#these came out really well much better than i was expecting for the first time ive done this much drawing in one sitting in like a few week

[slaybinnie]

ALLEYWAY BOY

╰┈➤ sieun x fem!reader

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), violence, explicit language, no sexual protection.

about: while at your new school, one student catches your attention. when you help him during a fight you’re welcomed into his friend group. now in university, sieun begins to open up more, emotionally and physically.

⤷ WORD COUNT: 5k

The classroom was loud with chatter as everyone waited for the teacher to arrive for the first class of the day. You had transferred to Eunjang High School just a week ago and were still trying to find your place among the complex social hierarchy. 

No one really stood out except one person. You noticed him immediately. A boy sitting alone by the window, his face expressionless as he stared outside. Something about him drew you to him. While everyone else moved in groups, laughing and talking loudly, he existed in his own bubble. You had occasionally seen him hang out with three other boys but most days he was to himself. 

Oh. You’re looking at Sieun?” Whispered the girl sitting next to you, catching you staring. “He doesn't talk much. He transferred a little before you. Apparently he killed someone at his old school.”

You nodded, trying to look disinterested even as your eyes kept drifting back to him.

Your chance to actually meet him came a few days later. You had stayed late at school to complete a makeup test and were walking home alone when you heard yelling in the ally way. You should’ve taken that as a sign to turn around and take a different way home but curiosity got the better of you. 

You looked around the corner and saw four guys surrounding someone. When they moved around, you caught a glimpse of Sieun, standing there with the same frown on his face.

“You think just because you took down Seongje means we’re scared of you?,” one of them was said.

Sieun's voice was quiet but firm. “No.”

What happened next was so fast you barely registered it. One moment one of the guys was lunging toward Sieun and the next moment he was on the ground clutching his stomach. The others rushed in but Sieun moved with a quickness, fighting back. 

In less than a minute, all of them were on the ground. The first guy Sieun took down pulled out a small knife, and that's when you gasped involuntarily. Everyone froze. Sieun's eyes snapped to where you stood, and in that moment of distraction the knife-wielder lunged. Without thinking, you shouted, “Behind you!” 

Sieun dodged it just in time, the blade missing his face by inches. He grabbed the guys wrist and twisted until the knife fell to the ground.

All four boys fled and Sieun turned to you. You expected him to show anger for you interfering but his face didn’t show anything actually. 

“You should go home,” he said finally. “It's not safe here.”

“You're bleeding,” you pointed out, noticing a cut on his cheek.

He touched it softly. “It's nothing.”

Instead of leaving, you dug into your bag and pulled out a packet of tissues and a small first-aid kit your mother had insisted you carry. “Let me help.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you. Then, to your surprise, he gave a single nod and leaned against the wall, allowing you to dab at the cut with a wipe.

“Why did you warn me?” he asked suddenly. “You don't even know me.”

You focused on cleaning the cut, avoiding his intense gaze. “Should I have let him stab you instead?”

He exhaled a breath. “Most people would have run away.”

“Well I didn’t want to see a fellow Eunjang student hurt,” you replied with a smile on your face.

“Yo, Sieun!” a voice called. Three boys approached, the one with a basketball jersey frowning when he saw the signs of a fight. “What happened?”

“Nothing important,” Sieun replied, straightening up.

The basketball jersey boy's eyes shifted to you, suspicious. “Who's this?”

“A classmate,” Sieun said before you could answer. “She helped.”

The introduction was short and sweet. You learned that Baku was the one with the jersey on. Junate and Gotak were the other two boys. These were the boys you had seen Sieun hang out with every now and then. 

From this moment you were cautiously accepted into their friend circle. Sieun rarely spoke to you directly at first but sometimes you would catch him watching you when he thought you weren't looking.

It took months to break his walls down with you. You had slowly earned his trust and got to learn about the story behind his fighting skills and the way he kept everyone at a distance. You learned about his troubled past, his friend in the hospital, and got to know his personality more. 

By the start of your senior year everything was starting to look up. Suho, Sieuns hospital friend, had woken up, Eungjang high was no longer bothered by the union and your friendship with Sieun developed into something more.

One year later and you’re all now in University. The campus coffee shop was loud with voices and machines as students rushed to grab their caffeine before afternoon classes. You sat at a corner table, textbooks spread across the surface as you tried to make sense of your class assignment.

University life had been treating you well, balancing classes with part-time work and a social life was challenging, but manageable. 

Sieun hadn't changed much since high school. His face still carried that same deadpan expression, sharp eyes that softened only for you, and a quietness that intimidated most people. What did change was your goals for him and you. 

Since starting university, you'd made it your mission to get more reactions out of him. It had become something of a game between you and him trying to maintain his composure while you tried your best to break it.

Sieun walked in the coffee shop, his dark hair slightly messy from the breeze outside. He looked so good. Despite being your boyfriend for almost six months now, the sight of him still made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you. “Sorry I'm late. The professor wanted to discuss my project”

You smiled, pushing your untouched ice tea toward him. “No problem. How did it go?”

“Better than expected.” He reached for the drink, his fingers brushing against yours. Even after months of dating, these small touches still sent electricity through your body. “He thinks I might be able to submit it to receive a full ride scholarship.”

“That's amazing” Your genuine excitement made him bow his head slightly, still unused to praise despite his talents.

Sieun took a sip from your drink, using the same straw you had been using. When he realized what he'd done, a faint blush crept across his cheeks. He quickly set the drink down.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at your face.

You couldn't help but laugh. For someone who had faced the craziest situations in high school, it was interesting how flustered he could get over such small intimacies. 

“Sieun…” you started, taking another sip from the same straw, “ you know sharing drinks is what couples do.”

His blush deepened. “I know that.”

“Do you?” You leaned forward, resting your chin on your palm. “Because sometimes I wonder if you remember we're dating.”

Sieun's eyes met yours, embarrassment written all over his face.  “Of course I remember we’re dating.”

“Then why do you still get so flustered when I do this?” You reached across the table and gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. As expected, he stiffened slightly before relaxing into your touch.

“I'm not flustered,” he insisted, though the color in his cheeks said otherwise.

You laughed softly. “Sure baby.” 

Honestly, you found his shy reactions adorable. Sieun had always been reserved, even after you'd started dating. Breaking through his walls had been a slow process but every small victory felt significant. You loved to see him gradually allow himself to be vulnerable with you.

“How's your assignment going?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

“It’s going horribly,” you admitted dramatically. “This subject makes no sense to me.”

Sieun scooted his chair around to sit beside you, his shoulder pressing against yours as he looked at your textbook. “Let me see.”

As he began explaining concepts  you found yourself watching the movement of his lips more than listening to his words. When he paused to see if you were following, you impulsively leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening. “What was that for?” he asked, voice slightly cracking.

"I just wanted to kiss you,” you replied with a shrug. “Is that okay?”

Sieun swallowed hard. “Yeah... it's okay.”

You smiled and turned back to the textbook, acting as if nothing had happened, though you could feel the tension radiating from him. You had to have a nice balance with Sieun, pushing just enough to help him become comfortable with affection without overwhelming him.

For the next hour, you studied together, gradually shifting closer until your thighs touched under the table. Every so often, you would find excuses to touch him. You’d reach across to point at something in the book and let your arm rest against his. Each touch left him momentarily flustered before he composed himself again. 

“We should get going,” he said, closing his textbooks and glancing at his watch. “We're supposed to meet the others for lunch in twenty minutes.”

You groaned, remembering the lunch plan. “Do we have to? I was hoping to have you to myself today.”

A small smile played on his lips. “They'll never let us hear the end of it if we bail.”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, gathering your books. “But you owe me.”

“Owe you what?” he asked, helping you pack up.

You leaned in close, your lips nearly brushing his ear. “Time. Just us. No interruptions.”

The blush returned full force, spreading from his neck to his ears, and you couldn't help but laugh softly. There was something addictive about making Sieun flustered.

As you walked across campus to meet your friends, your hands occasionally brushed until Sieun finally took the initiative and laced his fingers with yours. It was a small gesture, but knowing how much he disliked public displays of affection, it meant everything to you.

The campus restaurant was crowded when you arrived, but you spotted your friends immediately. Baku was gesturing wildly, telling some story that had Juntae rolling his eyes. Suho noticed you first, waving you guys over. 

“Finally!” Baku exclaimed as you sat down. “We thought you two might have gotten distracted.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“We were studying,” Sieun said simply. “Unlike some people.”

Gotak laughed. “He's got you there, Baku. When's the last time you stepped foot in the library?”

“Libraries are for people who have to read to learn,” Baku said with a big grin, tapping his forehead. “Me? I just stand near smart stuff and it jumps into my brain!”

“Is that why you're failing statistics?” Juntae asked dryly making the whole table laugh,

As your friends fell into their usual banter you noticed how clam Sieun was. This friend group was good for him. Everything felt right. 

“How's the new apartment?” Suho asked Sieun between bites of his lunch.

“It's alright,” Sieun replied with his typical shortness.

You rolled your eyes. “What he means is that it's great but he's still living out of boxes because he refuses to properly unpack.”

“I have a system,” Sieun defended himself.

Sieun had moved into his own place just a month ago, leaving the dormitories for a small studio apartment off-campus. You had helped him move, shocked by how few items he actually owned.

“You should see it,” you told the others. “The only decoration he has is a plant I bought him, which is somehow still alive.”

“It's just a place to sleep,” Sieun shrugged. “I don't need much.”

Baku leaned forward. “So, Y/n, how often do you stay over at this minimalist paradise?”

You kicked him under the table while Sieun suddenly became very interested in his food.

“None of your business, Humin,” you replied sassy.

The truth was, while you had been to Sieun's apartment many times, your relationship had progressed slowly in physical terms. Sieun wasn't one to rush, and you respected his pace. You were fine as long as he was by your side. 

As everyone prepared to leave for afternoon classes, Suho pulled you aside briefly.

“He seems good,” he said quietly, nodding toward Sieun who was arguing with Baku about something. “More settled.”

You smiled, watching your boyfriend's rare animated expressions. “I think he is. You being here is definitely a big reason why”

“It’s not just me. It's because of you too,” Suho continued. “He was always so... contained back then. Even with me. You've given him something the rest of us couldn't.”

“What's that?”

“Permission to be a normal guy,” Suho said simply. “To care about something besides survival.”

Before you could respond, the others joined you, and the moment passed. But Suho's words stayed with you as you and Sieun split from the group to head to your next classes.

“I have to finish a lab report tonight,” Sieun said as you guys reached his next class. “But maybe after…”

“After?” 

He met your eyes, something determined in his gaze. “Maybe you could come over. We could watch that movie you've been talking about.”

You smiled, knowing the invitation was not just to watch a movie, but to spend time together in his personal bubble. “I'd like that.”

For a moment, he stood there, seeming to debate something. He looked around quickly to ensure no one was watching and leaned in to kiss you briefly. Before you could react, he had already pulled away, a flush spreading across his cheekbones.

“I'll text you when I'm done,” he said rushed, then turned and walked into the building, leaving you standing there with a surprised smile.

It was 8:30 when you got the text from Sieun, "Lab done. Come over if you still want to.”

 Pf, of course you still want to. You quickly washed up and headed over to his apartment, giving his door a soft knock. The door opened almost immediately, revealing Sieun in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His hair was damp from a recent shower. He looked so handsome. 

“Hi,” you said, suddenly feeling a little nervous without knowing why.

“Come in,” he replied, stepping aside to let you enter.

The apartment was indeed minimalist, just as you'd described to your friends. A bed in one corner, a small seating area with a couch and coffee table, a tv stand with a tv, a cute small kitchen, and a desk with a laptop, the plant you gave him, and neatly arranged textbooks on it. 

But something was a little different. You noticed immediately that he had finally unpacked some of the boxes. A bookshelf now held his small collection of books and a few framed photos, including you in them. One of the two photos with you in them was from the end-of-year festival in high school.

“You unpacked,” you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

Sieun shrugged, but you could tell he was pleased that you'd noticed. “Had some time after finishing the lab report.”

You moved to examine the photos more closely. “I can't believe you kept this,” you said, picking up the festival photo.

“It was a good day,” he said simply, coming to stand beside you.

You remembered it well. A day full of fun. The day had ended with him awkwardly asking if you wanted to “maybe go out sometime,” his confidence completely absent as he stumbled over the words.

Setting the photo down, you turned to face him. “I can put on the movie,” you said picking up his remote and turning on  the TV, “but I'm also fine with just talking if you're tired.”

“I’m good with the movie,” he replied, “I made food. Nothing fancy, just ramen.”

“Fancy ramen or instant?” you asked with a smile.

“Somewhere in between.” He gestured to two bowls on the coffee table, steam still rising from them. You noticed he'd added eggs, green onions, and a few other ingredients to elevate the simple dish.

After putting the movie on you settled onto the small couch suddenly aware of how intimate the space felt. You had been here before, but something about tonight felt different. Sieun joined you on the couch, sitting close enough that your shoulders touched. 

For the first twenty minutes, you both ate and watched in comfortable silence but as the main characters in the film shared their first kiss, you became hyperaware of Sieun sitting beside you.

Setting your empty bowl aside, you casually leaned into him. After a brief moment of tension, he lifted his arm and placed it around your shoulders, allowing you to rest against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, slightly faster than normal.

“Is this okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head to look up at him.

Instead of answering, he surprised you by leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle but lingered longer than his usual hesitant kisses. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with an emotion you rarely saw him display.

“More than okay,” he finally answered, voice slightly rough.

You reached up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. He remained perfectly still under your touch, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“I've been thinking,” you said softly, “about us.”

“What about us?” His voice was quiet.

“About how far we've come. From that day in the alley to here.” You continued tracing patterns on his skin, moving to his neck where you could feel his pulse jumping beneath your touch. “You used to flinch when I got too close.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I wasn't used to it.”

“And now?” you asked.

Instead of answering with words, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hand moving to the small of your back to pull you closer. The movie continued playing but it was completely forgotten as you lost yourself with Sieun's lips against yours.

When you finally broke apart you couldn't help but smile at the cute look on his face.

“I'm still not used to it,” he admitted quietly. “But in a different way now.”

“Explain,” you encouraged, your hand now resting on his chest.

Sieun took a moment to gather his thoughts, “Before, it was unfamiliar. A little uncomfortable. Now it's unfamiliar because it feels too good. Like I don't deserve it.”

Your heart ached at his words. Despite all your time together, parts of his past still haunted him.

“You deserve every good thing, Sieun,” you said firmly, taking his face in both hands so he couldn't look away. “Every single one.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “I'm trying to believe that.”

“Let me help you believe,” you whispered, and kissed him again.

The kiss deepened quickly, a year of careful restraint giving way to something more urgent. Sieun's arms tightened around you, pulling you practically onto his lap as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His usual composure was slipping, and you reveled in it, your hands sliding under his t-shirt to touch the warm skin beneath. You felt his muscles tense at the contact, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he made a low sound in the back of his throat that sent heat flooding through your body.

“Sieun,” you breathed, needing to hear his response, to know he wanted this as much as you did.

“I'm here,” he mumbled against your skin, then pulled back slightly to meet your gaze. “I'm always here with you.”

Something about those simple words, the sincerity behind them, made your heart swell. This was Sieun. He was a man of few words but had deep feelings. He expressed himself through actions rather than speech. You loved him.

Slowly you moved to straddle his lap, careful to make sure he was comfortable with your weight on him. Your eyes never left him to ensure this was okay. His hands settled on your waist, his breathing was noticeably uneven now.

“Is this too much?” you asked, knowing his boundaries had always been important to respect.

He shook his head, but still looked slightly overwhelmed. “Just give me a moment.”

You stayed still, watching the emotions play across his face. His hands tightened on your waist, then relaxed again.

“I've wanted this,” he admitted softly, the confession clearly difficult for him. “For a long time.”

“Me too,” you whispered, leaning forward to press your forehead against his again. “We can go as slow as you need.”

A small smile pulled at his lips. “We've been going slow for years.”

The observation, so accurate and yet so unexpected coming from him, made you laugh. “True. But that's okay.”

His smile widened slightly, and in that moment, he looked younger, lighter, and unburdened by the weight he always carried. You vowed to yourself to make him smile like that more often.

Sieun's hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you closer until your chests pressed together. “Maybe,” he said, voice low, “we could go a little faster now.”

Your breath caught at his words. “I'd like that.”

Siuen grabbed your hand and dragged you towards his bed. He gently pushed you down on the bed and followed you down. He captured your lips once again and you sighed into the kiss. Your hands found their way under his shirt and traced his stomach. Sieun shivered at your touch. 

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and he understood, pulling his shirt over his head. The sight of him shirtless wasn't new to you. You had seen him like this before but the context was different now. It was more intimate. Your eyes traced his chest, faint scars littered all around, reminders from his past.

 Sieun watched you look at his chest, heat rising to his cheeks. “Your turn,” he said softly, his fingers playing with the edge of your top.

You sat up, allowing him to remove your shirt. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you in your bra. His hand came up to trace your face all the way down to the curve of your cup. His hand found the clasp of your bra and hesitated for just a moment until you nodded.  He unfastened your bra, the straps sliding down your arms.

Your chest was bare in front of him and your nipples hardened when the cool air touched them. Sieun reached to touch your breast, gently gliding his hand against them. You couldn't help but shiver at the contact, your body responding to his exploring hands. 

“You're beautiful,” he whispered. 

You reached up to touch his face, drawing him back to your lips. The kiss deepened as his hand continued to caress your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple and pulling a soft moan from your throat. The sound seemed to embolden him, his movements becoming more confident.

Sieun broke the kiss and moved his head down towards your left breast. He looked up at you, making eye contact before kissing your nipple then sucking it into his mouth. 

The pleasure that crashed through you was immediate and intense. Your back arched slightly, pressing your breast further into his mouth. Sieun's free hand moved to your other breast, thumbing over your nipple as his tongue swirled around your other nipple.

“Sieun,” you gasped, your fingers threading through his dark hair, holding him to you.

His mouth moved to your right breast, giving it the same attention while his hand replaced his mouth on the left. 

Sieun pulled back and thumbed at your nipples to make up for his mouth moving away. He was breathing hard and his eyes were full of lust. Sieun kissed your nipples one more time before his hands moved to your waist, his fingers tracing the waistband of your pants.

 “Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed, lifting your hips to help as he carefully slid your pants down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

Sieun took a moment to look at you, his eyes traveling over your body with such intensity that you could almost feel it like a physical touch.

“Your turn,” you said with a small smile, copying his earlier words. 

He removed his sweatpants, leaving both of you in just your underwear. The sight of him nearly took your breath away. His erection was evident and you could see a tiny bit of pre-cum seeping through his boxers. 

“Sieun.” 

“Hm?”

“I want your fingers so bad.” You said while grabbing his hand and placing it to where you needed him the most. 

Sieun leaned in to kiss you. His hand slipped beneath your underwear and you gasped against his mouth as his fingers found you wet and waiting.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his movements slow and careful.

“More than okay,” you assured him while you guided his hand to your core. 

Sieun was a quick learner. He watched your reactions carefully, noting what made your breath hitch, what made you moan. When he finally found your clit a moan was ripped out of you. “Fuck Sieun! Right there! Keep going.” 

Sieun nodded, feeling emboldened by your response he grew more confident in his movements. He rubbed your swollen clit a bit faster and harder, making you squirm more and more. He lowered his head to your breast, lips closing around your nipple as his fingers worked between your legs. The dual sensation had you moaning his name, your hands tangling in his hair.

Siuen pulled off your breast and moved his fingers down towards your hole, circling your entrance. “Tell me what feels good,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving your face as he kept circling your entrance.

“Everything you're doing,” you breathed, gasping when he slowly slid a finger inside you. “Oh Sieun…”

He added another finger, stretching you gently as his thumb continued to work your sensitive bud. The dual sensation had you moaning beneath him, your hands clutching his shoulder. 

“Sieun. Baby,” you gasped, “I'm close.”

“I got you,” he murmured against your skin. The tenderness in his voice combined with the movement of his fingers sent you over the edge. Your body shuddered as waves of pleasure washed over you with Sieun's name spelling out your lips. 

As you came down from your high, you opened your eyes to find him watching you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. “Did I do good?” 

You smiled lazily up at him, getting cuteness aggression from him wanting approval. “Of course you did, baby.” 

You then reached for him, wanting to bring him the same pleasure he'd given you. Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping around his cock. Sieun's breath hitched, his eyes closing briefly at your touch.

“You’re so hard, baby. Did you get turned on making me feel good?” 

Sieun just nodded. 

You smirked, and guided him onto his back. You removed his boxers then straddled his thighs before stroking him again. His eyes never left yours as you stroked him, learning what he liked by the subtle changes in his expression, the way his breath caught, the tension in his muscles. 

You pulled your hand away making Sieun whine. He quickly shut up when you leaned down and kissed his tip. You licked from his tip to his base, then backwards, teasing him before finally taking him in your mouth fully.

Sieun's head fell back against the pillow, a low groan escaping his throat. His hands hesitantly moved to your hair, not pushing or guiding, just connecting with you as you sucked him off. The sounds of soft gasps and quiet moans encouraged you to continue, taking him deeper.

“Y/n,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “That feels...ah. So good.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, the vibration making him tense beneath you. His breathing grew more erratic as you continued. It was intoxicating to see him like this. 

After a few minutes, his hand tightened slightly in your hair. “Wait,” he gasped. “I'm close. I’m going to-”

You pulled back, wiping your mouth as you looked up at him. “Sorry. I want you to cum inside of me.”

Sieun’s eyes widened but he nodded, complying with anything you said. You pulled him in a heated kiss. “I’m going to ride you.. With no condom, okay?” You whispered against his lips.

“Okay.” Sieun agreed, straightening himself against the headboard. 

You positioned yourself above him and lowered yourself slowly until you were stuffed with his cock. Both of you gasped at the sensation. You stayed still for a moment to adjust. Sieun's hands gripped your hips, his eyes locked on yours.

“You okay?” he asked, always concerned for your comfort even in his own pleasure.

“Perfect. You?” 

“Good but, fuck. You’re so tight.”

You giggled before moving your hips up a little, careful not to pull off of him, then slammed back down his cock. The both of you moaned, Sieun moving his head into the crook of your neck. 

You again started to slowly go up and down, Sieun was still hiding his face on your neck. He was biting his lips, trying to keep himself from moaning too loud. You were so tight around him, he thought he was going to die as you continued your motion on his cock.

You started to get a bit winded and Sieun noticed. Sieun surprisingly rolled you guys over and took charge, pushing into you softly. You both were close, desperation evident from the way you were whining and on the way he was sloppily rubbing your clit while thrusting. 

“Sieun, I’m close. Please. Let’s cum together.” 

Siuen nodded and sped up his hips, his thrusts becoming even more desperate as he chased both your pleasure and his own. His fingers worked faster against your clit, his movements becoming more pleasurable with each of your soft moans.

Sieun nodded and sped up his hips, his thrusts becoming more desperate as he chased both your pleasure and his own. His fingers worked against your clit with renewed determination, his movements becoming more confident with each of your soft moans.

“Y/n,” he gasped, his voice strained. “I can't hold on much longer.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “Then don't,” you said, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Let go, baby.”

His rhythm faltered as he drove into you one last time, burying himself deep. You felt him pulse inside you as he came, the sensation triggering your own release. Your walls clenched around him as waves of pleasure washed over you both. Sieun's mouth found yours in a messy, passionate kiss that swallowed your cries of pleasure.

For a moment, you stayed locked together, hearts racing, bodies trembling with aftershocks. Sieun's forehead rested against yours, his breathing gradually slowing as he came down from his high. When he finally opened his eyes, they were filled with such tenderness that it made your heart ache.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. 

You smiled, still feeling the pleasant hum of satisfaction throughout your body. “More than okay.”

He made and a move to pull out of you but you wrapped your legs tighter around him. “No stay.” 

Sieun laughed a little, “Y/n I need to clean you up. My cum is still inside you.”

You pouted, “I don’t care.”

“You’ll care when we’re getting plan b from the pharmacy,” Sieun joked. 

You punched his arm jokingly while laughing, “Stop. I’m on the pill anyways.” 

Sieun visibly relaxed at your words, a small smile playing on his lips. “Still I need to clean us up.” 

He carefully pulled out of you and rolled you to face him. His arm draped over your waist, keeping you close as his dark eyes studied your face. 

“I love you.” He said it so quietly you almost missed it. 

Your heart skipped a beat. Those three words. He'd never said them before even though you’d known how he felt for a long time. Sieun showed his feelings through actions, not words, but hearing it spoken aloud made tears well in your eyes.

You tilted your head up to look at him. “I love you too. So much.” You pressed a sweet kiss to his chin “And I am so happy.” 

You laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, occasionally stopping to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Stay the night?” he asked after a while, his voice hopeful.

“Obviously.” You replied, content.

────୨ৎ────

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to message me and request stuff! I havent written in forever but WHC woke me up from the dead. <3

[cypressure]

two theropods and a wolf for flocking i'm feeling blessed

Juravenator, Monolophosaurus, Aenocyon dirus, Zuniceratops

[phagodyke]

really horribly anxious this morning and can't seem to shake it off :-(

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |

Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -

The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.

Was currently trembling under his wife pointed look.

"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.

In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even more with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thought on how many lives were lost.

But, for some reason he wanted to go again.

"Im going with you"

His glass of wishky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.

"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.

"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"

"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"

"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"

In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.

"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious

"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"

"On it, love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.

"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"

"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.

"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.

He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.

But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.

Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.

"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"

You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive

"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.

In-ho was having too much fun.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.

"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"

He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.

"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"

"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"

She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thought all you did was be in your office and give orders"

In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.

However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.

"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone

You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.

"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"

In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.

"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Whatever you say Honey"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.

You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.

He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.

"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.

"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.

Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.

"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.

"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.

You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"

The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.

The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 

"And what do you propouse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.

Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.

You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"

You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.

"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.

"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.

Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.

Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.

A cold scream left your mouth as the fork pierced your shoulder.

You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.

"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.

"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.

Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.

It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.

"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.

You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.

"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.

"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.

"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?

In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.

"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.

"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"

"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"

"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"

"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"

Finally you accepted.

"I love you In-ho"

"I love you too Love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.

"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"

The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.

Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.

Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.

He removed his mask to look at you properly.

"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice

"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.

"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"

You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[darkbluekies]

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer. 

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him. 

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again. 

But he did. Somehow, he did. 

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one. 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you. 

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other. 

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase. 

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights. 

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back. 

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says. 

Me neither, you think. 

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe. 

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered. 

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine. 

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke. 

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes. 

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank. 

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”. 

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint. 

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry. 

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away. 

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” 

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping. 

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly. 

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter. 

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling. 

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away. 

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him. 

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead. 

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold. 

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty. 

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.” 

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused? 

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in. 

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks. 

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish. 

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him. 

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you. 

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you. 

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder. 

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning. 

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m not hungry”, you say. 

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing. 

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears. 

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks. 

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers. 

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled. 

His words send icy shivers down your back. 

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky. 

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls. 

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure. 

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside. 

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court. 

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole. 

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body. 

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole. 

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command. 

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries. 

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start. 

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 

It drives Tyler insane. 

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 

Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!” 

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

[alexispunkkk]

back where we started

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: dark!joel x fem!reader

- summary: joel is a horrible partner post-outbreak. he yells. isn't too nice. fucks.

- warnings: dark!!! dubcon, slapping, choking, hair tugging, unprotected piv (don't do this guys!), smut smut smut smut, degrading, yelling, no established relationship, rough sex, crying, unsafe sex, angry sex, joel has crazy anger issues, blood, huggeee nasty age gap (legal, though! your choice for age), public / outdoor sex, size kink, joel's got a massive dick lols, power imbalance, submission, no aftercare, squirting, dirty talk, thigh riding if you squint, manhandling, joel is just incredibly mean. total asshole.

- word count: 4.5k

- author’s note: feining for mr joel miller recently so i wrote this... my first joel fic!! its gross yall. have your fun though!

—————————————୨ৎ

Partnering up with Joel Miller wasn’t ideal. He’s always looking at you like you’re some problem he doesn’t know how to solve – like you’re just cargo he’s exhausted of having to drag along. 

You don’t want to admit it, but he’s honestly an asshole. A real fucking dick, a mean bastard. To everyone else you meet, you’re a well loved, sweet girl. To Joel, though, you’re a burden. He’s a miserable person, and hanging around him only came with the positive that he knew how to hunt, how to keep you decently safe. But, hey, it’s better to be stuck with a brute of a man than to be infected. Right?

For whatever reason, the frustration has been building worse than usual for the past few days. You move like you’re on eggshells, do anything to not upset him, stay quiet when you’re asked and obey his every order. But it’s Joel fucking Miller. Nothing is ever enough with him. 

You’re young, but that's not a valid excuse for Joel. He expects as much out of you as he would another man his size and seniority, which is totally unfair of a girl your age.

So every little mistake ticks him off. Really riles him up. His temper is really fired up today for whatever reason, and you’re trying your best to not exacerbate it. 

—————————————୨ৎ

Joel should know now your most common flaws – he does pay attention, but that mind of his was too preoccupied with his fresh plan to head east to remember just how forgetful you tend to be. 

You remember twenty minutes after you leave. Everything is packed up, rifle on Joel’s thick shoulder, sleeping bags taken from Bill and Frank’s now deserted house strapped to your backs. Everything but one thing. And arguably, the most important thing for the new change of route. 

“Can y’get me out the map, girl?”

Girl. He always insists on calling you that. Rather derogatory, like he doesn’t wanna address you by a human name. Just girl.

At the question, your steps stutter. A little patch of dirt kicked up from your shoe hits the back of Joel’s calf, earning a soft grunt. “You fuckin’ deaf now? I said gimme the damn map.”

He knows what your silence means, and in that moment he's about to lose his goddamn mind. His feet stop bluntly, his large, brooding frame turning to face you. 

Your pace slows soon after him, halting to a nervous stop while your gaze flickers from its usual spot on the ground up into his dark eyes. A warning look.

“Better not tell me you lost the fuckin’ thing.” 

No words come out of your mouth, let alone even pop into your head; all you can seem to do is stare up at him like a mindless idiot, his height towering over yours when he takes a small step closer.

Again, your steps follow, this time backward. You stumble back half a foot, a twig cracking under the shift of your weight. Out of nervous habit, your left hand reaches for the right wrist, gently stroking the skin to keep yourself somewhat calm.

“Joel, I didn’t–”

His movements match your own, his large, calloused hands lurching forward to rip your hand off your wrist. It gets replaced with his own grip, but much tighter. Aggressive. Taut. Outraged. 

“Y���didn’t what? Didn’t think for once how t’not be a goddamned idiot?” He snarls, his untamed fingernails digging into the skin for a moment and leaving tiny crescents into the first layer. “Why d’you always gotta be like this, girl? Fuckin’ stupid…”

He trails off, removing his tight grip on your forearm, but not without hostility. He lets go but ends it with a good yank. Not hard enough to pop it out of place, but hard enough to get a quiet whimper out of your shy throat.

You never know what to say when he gets like this. Whether to defend yourself, whether to stay shut up and take the tirade. But you sure know well enough not to fight back – that’s how to get your arm pulled out of the socket.

“I–I swear, Joel. I had it, I don’t know where it went.”

He never takes your stupid excuses. They’re useless, he’ll never believe you. He knows that you know you forgot it at the last spot you camped out. And this time, the excuse was a pathetic mumble, your eyes glued at your wrist and the mark he left when he gripped it. Even more to make your pitiful case unconvincing. 

“Yeah, the hell you do. Quit lyin’, you know damn well where that map is.” He scoffs, brushing past you with a shove to the shoulder, his larger figure knocking you a few inches with a soft oof. “Back in the woods where you left it, ain’t it?”

Of course, you can’t plead your case anymore. You give in, nodding in submission and trudging after him once he turns around, back in the direction where you surely left the damn map. 

“...Yeah.” You murmur, rubbing a dry hand across the bottom half of your face, against your snotty nose. Not because you’d been crying, this is nothing from Joel yet. Just because the month has been terribly cold and sleeping outside every night isn’t doing you well. “At our last camp. M’sorry.”

“Always fuckin’ sorry. Sorry for almost gettin’ yourself killed, sorry for forgetting somethin’ again and again. M’sick of your shit.” He grunts, readjusting the rifle strapped over his shoulder. 

When you first met him, words like that got to you, as much as you hate to admit it. But now, everything seems to fade together. He’s just Joel. That’s how he is. And you’ve gotta live with it and try your best to not piss him off. 

To your luck, he shuts up and stops berating you – at least until you’re close to the previous camp spot. Just silence, interrupted only by the awkward shuffling of your steps behind him, desperately trying to keep up with his longer strides and stay quiet to not worsen his anger.

But when you get close enough and he has to start looking for the damned map, his mumbling and annoyance boils over once again, infiltrating the somewhat comfortable silence that your ears just got used to.

“Map was the only fuckin’ thing getting us around… no goddamn compass.” Joel mutters under his breath. Not at you, for once, but just a natural spilling of his frustration. He’s always gotta be mumbling about something, even in his sleep. “Slow me down enough as is. Gotta lose everythin’, too.”

You joined aimlessly behind him, searching around the patchy grass, anywhere for the map that was stressing him out so terribly. 

Minutes go by. He’s getting angrier by the minute, his hands flexing while he crouches down and searches. Mad, but still pretty tame for a pissed-off Joel Miller. 

That is, until he glances up and actually gets a look at you for the first time in an hour. He normally avoids any eye contact, avoids even peeking over at you. At that damn little frame… so much younger, sweeter. He seemingly hates having you around because you always tick him off, but what he hates more is the temptation that comes with having a pretty little girl by his side at all times.

He finally lets his eyes fall on you. But this time, he can’t even get his usual peek at your lips or neck, because something else catches his eye. A familiar shred of paper – just the fucking corner – poking out the zipper of your backpack. 

He genuinely slaps himself in the face, eyes turning dark and fists curling up in pure rage at the sight.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

He growls. Not a question, but a threat. His eyes are black at this point, breath speeding up while he takes another step toward you. Not cautious like he’ll sometimes let himself be, but warring. 

You’re confused for a bit, as you hadn’t seen the map in your own bag. Or even thought to look before you turned around and walked a half hour back, a complete waste of your time. “Oh…”

He starts again, his voice much lower than usual. Dangerous.

“You wanna tell me…” Joel breathes, stepping towards you even more until he’s got you backed against a tree. Bark pushing your shirt and jacket up, scraping at the bare skin of your lower back. “Why the hell we just wasted an hour of our time, when the map was practically right in your fuckin’ hand!”

As he curses, your heart drops. You don’t have time to react before his hands are up, flying at you. You flinch, thinking they’re coming to hurt you, but they’re reaching into your backpack. 

And sure enough, there it is. The map you spent so much valuable time fussing over. Right on your damn back. 

‘I didn’t know, Joel. Didn’t think to check.” You whimper and choke out from the back of your throat, weak and apologetic. Again, he’s not one for excuses and apologies. He’s on you before you can even think, hand forcing the map in your face.

His palm hits your mouth when he shoves the paper, a direct blow to your jaw. Your lip comes in forced contact with your bottom row of teeth, tearing the skin and swelling instantly. The only thing that can escape your mouth now is a pained whimper, which agitates the furious man on top of you worse. 

“Fuckin’ idiot. Wastin’ my damn time like always. Do you ever think?” He scoffs and backs up, maybe half an inch. 

When he notices your slightly busted lip, it brings him a sense of triumph. You ticked him off and now you’re gonna pay for it. And you sure enough feel guilty enough to not stop him, so he’s got you trapped now.

You’re frozen in place against the tree, refusing to move or utter out even the smallest of another noise. Suddenly, Joel’s mind is more occupied by the girl under his grip, shaking like a damn leaf with a bleeding and busted lip. 

“Asked you a question, little shit.” He grunts and lets his hand venture up to your jaw, pushing it around like a toy before settling with a tight grip, squeezing your cheeks and watching how the blood oozes from your lip at the pressure. “Said, do you ever fuckin’ think?”

Sure, he’s yelled at you plenty, disciplined you, maybe put his hands on you out of frustration a couple of times before. But it never feels like this. His hands usually let up after they land on you, but now he’s squeezing at your face and looking into your hazy eyes as if this is a challenge.

“Mm.” You whine, throat bobbing while you adjust to the feeling of his huge hand gripping your face. “N-no.” 

Your voice is only the softest of a mutter. 

“Speak up, girl. Didn’t hear ya’.” He rolls his eyes, giving your face a nice knead and jerking it to the side to jolt you up more. 

A shuddering breath leaves your mouth, head jerking to the right at the flick of his wrist. He holds it against the tree, your ponytail getting caught on the rough edge of the bark, the lumber scraping your ear.

“No. Don’t–don’t ever think enough. M’sorry. Wasn’t… wasn’t thinkin’.”

You sigh, head lifting up while you feel the familiar sensation of your throat tightening up, eyes starting to burn. But you keep it in. 

Joel hums, jerking your head again and shoving it harder onto the hard bark. “Damn right. Don’t think. A fuckin’ burden on me.”

He’s not doing it because he’s mad anymore. Hell, he’s already forgotten about the stupid map that caused all of this. He’s doing it to get a rise out of you.

And you know that’s all he wants.

His gaze is different, his tone similar to but not matching the genuine anger you hear from him most of the time. There's a hint of more challenge in it, maybe even passion. The hand on your jaw only confirms that.

“Shoulda’ left you behind when I got the chance.” He mutters, knowing that threatening to leave you really gets under your skin. Honestly, he’s all that you have, and you’d be dead without him. So that always seems to hurt a little more than some name calling. 

You don’t react, gulping and keeping still at his arduous words. Getting no reaction from you riles him up worse, his free hand coming down to strike at the wood above your head. You flinch, and a tear unpromptedly rolls down your cheek. You don’t feel it until Joel curses, laughing in disbelief and moving his hand from your jaw down to your throat.

He squeezes. Not tight, not yet. A groan escapes his throat, low and almost pained. And before you know it, he’s got his body pressed against yours, rubbing you uncomfortably into the rotting tree. 

“Such a fuckin’ mess.” He grunts, one hand around your throat to cut off any words and the other moving to your chin to move your gaze up to him. “Cryin’ like a baby when you were the one that lost the map.” 

Your pulse jumps when he degrades you, and he swears he sees something else in your eyes this time. Not the usual fear, but something that looks like arousal. 

It sparks something in him, and he wants to see it again. His hand tightens on your neck, earning a pained gasp from your pretty throat. Your eyes lock, and he watches your head tilt back against the tree, your eyes fluttering slightly.

He can’t take much more. A tiny whimper comes out of you when his knee presses against your thigh. 

That’s it. That’s fucking it.

Joel growls. Low. Frustrated. He gives up on the choking, instead gripping the back of your head and taking hold of your messy ponytail. He tugs, tilting your head more, his big aquiline nose moving down to bump under your ear and rub along the cold curve of your jaw. 

“Fuck’s wrong with you?” He whispers, his unkempt scruff that he calls a beard brushing up against you, scratching deep into the skin he just had a hand wrapped around. “Feel you gettin’ turned on. Fuckin’ slut, getting all worked up when I’m angry with you.”

You can’t do anything but take his advances and cry softly, feeling the cotton of your panties dampening each time his gruff voice comes out against your ear, his harsh breath biting at your neck. 

“Don’t got time for th’shit.” He mutters, but you hear his resolve dropping. He’s getting less and less frustrated over you wasting time, but more frustrated over the fact that he’s got his knee between your legs and he can feel the heat seeping through the fabrics, even in the biting cold weather. “Don’t got time for you makin’ me… makin’ me–ngh.”

His words stop, replaced by a low grunt into your ear the second your body even twitches against his. The grip on your ponytail tightens, tugging backward and earning a needy whine from you.

As much as he wants to keep degrading you, making you feel worthless under him, he’s feeling pretty pathetic himself. And he never gets like this with women.

His nose bumps your ear one more time before he can’t take it – his lips crash into yours. It’s not friendly. It’s not intimate. It’s fucking rude.

He intrudes, letting go of your hair and grabbing your body instead to push you against the damn tree harder. Mouths battle, and he wins, nipping hard and tasting the metallic blood from where he busted your lip earlier. Yum. 

“Joel.” You whimper, finally. It’s music to his ears, but he can’t show that. He has to be tough, not show that he’s into this. Not into the young girl he’s supposed to be training.

Joel grumbles, bringing a hand up to mindlessly slap at the side of your face at the sound of your whimper. 

“Shut up.”

And you do.

You’d do anything he told you right now. The feeling of him slapping you, biting your lips, pressing his thick knee between your thighs has got you absolutely pathetic. It’s fucking disgusting, you know that. To be so grossly into the fifty-six year old man that’s been taking care of you, the one that relentlessly bullies you and makes you feel like a worthless burden.

But you like it. You’d be anything for him, even if it meant being a worthless, pathetic burden. 

Joel’s got control. Obviously. His hand that slapped you runs over the heated skin in the same spot, almost to soothe it. What a gentleman. His lips slow on yours for a moment, latching onto the neck he had his hand around earlier instead.

In the deep woods, the only sounds heard are the birds above and his angry gasps against your skin, breathing like a madman. The softer sounds are interrupted by one of his belt clinking, being unbuckled mindlessly. And then the rustle of fabric. And then the unfamiliar sound of denim against Joel’s rough skin.

He’s straining against his boxers. Hard. Harder than he thinks he may ever have, but you don’t know that. You can tell he’s big through the fabric. It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind maybe once or twice, but you would never have expected for it to be pressed against your thigh, dangerous amounts of precum slowly leaking through the thin fabric of his briefs. 

You distract yourself while he gets busy attacking your neck and working your pants off – you don’t wanna believe it. Joel Miller is about to fuck you. He slapped you, choked you, degraded you, sure. That’s believable. But now he’s going to fuck you with that giant cock of his. 

As if it helps you not give in too much, you look everywhere to try and distract yourself. Down. His boxers read CALVIN KLEIN at the top. Up. The top button of his flannel came undone. He’s got a lot of chest hair. Behind him. There’s a bird watching him gnaw at your neck and tear your pants off, watching his bulging cock rub against your covered thigh. 

And the map is on the ground behind him.

“Fuck you lookin’ at?” He finally interrupts your private session of ‘I spy,’ breathing heavy against your skin and cupping your clothed cunt through your panties. “Look at me.”

You look up, gaze locking with his again. His eyes are equally as dark, but not with anger anymore. Desire. 

He’s gripping extra hard, hands splayed across your waist – almost big enough to wrap around, to grip you real good. Joel’s eyes travel all down your body in ways he’s only ever dreamed of, your pants torn down and now discarded on the forest floor. 

“Gonna fuck the stupidity right outchya’, yeah?” He chuckles, hoisting your body up to keep you settled between him and the tree. “‘N I want you lookin’ at me while I do it, kay’, girl? Eyes up. C’mon now.”

You can do nothing but oblige. Your eyes dart up, staying on him, even when he pulls his cock out that you so badly want to get a look at. The sound of him stroking himself, little grunts escaping his throat mindlessly, is so fucking tempting. 

But you listen, eyes staying on him, hoping to get some kind of praise from him for the first time in your life. Or maybe you want to keep getting debased. Maybe both. You seem to like the shame of it. 

“Gonna fuck you s’good you never forget anythin’ again. M’still pissed about that map, y’hear me?” He grunts, lifting you effortlessly to move his cock up into place. He’s so strong, and you’re so little. He can manhandle you however he wants, use you for his pleasure. And maybe you want that. 

From your mouth slips an obedient hum, your head shaking in a little nod so he knows you’re listening. You swear you see the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, but he replaces it within half a second with a grumble to maintain the tough guy look. 

His cock meets your slick after he pulls your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off. You’re not worth the time. Not after wasting that time with the map debacle. 

The pulsing head of it drags along your slit, collecting a bit of you on the tip, making a filthy mix with his precum. It’s been a minute since any intimacy for Joel, but he can’t let you know anything. Can’t show any kind of vulnerability. He keeps it in, biting his lip and grunting to avoid any embarrassing soft noises.

“Ain’t stoppin’ if you can’t take it, by th’way.” He grumbles into your ear, his tip just barely edging into your soaked cunt. You whimper, and he squeezes your waist in warning. If he didn’t have to be holding you up, he’d have hit you again. 

But, the soft noises you let out make him want more. You seem to let them out when you’re scared – or maybe it's out of arousal. Only from when he totally degrades you. He doesn’t care, he just wants to fuck you senseless.

“Could break ya’ if I wanted. Little… tight fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, head hitting the tree next to yours when his cock finally slides in. It was a fight to get in, your tight walls not stretched enough for his fat dick to fit due to your lack of experience. “Take ya’ how I fuckin’ want.’

If this was any other man, you’d cry and beg for him to stop. But Joel. It’s Joel. Joel fucking Miller. 

It hurts, but his threatening words seem to egg you on. They prod you to take it, try harder to take the thick cock that’s splitting your body right in half.

He doesn’t start slow like some guys. Joel doesn’t start slow. Ever. Joel Miller fucks, and he fucks how he wants. This isn’t about you, this is about him getting his worth back after you wasted all his damn time. 

His hips slam into you at an alarming pace, no time for you to stretch out and adjust to the movement. He’s already hitting deep enough to where, if your shirt was off, you could see the print all the way in your stomach. But no. Your shirt is on. Joel Miller doesn’t care enough to worry about a shirt, that’s foolish. He just wants pussy – no, needs it. He’s a man with priorities. 

You’re screaming, pain and pleasure. Usually he’d tell a woman to ‘shut the fuck’ up for being too loud, but you’re in the middle of the woods. Nobody around, except for the same fucking bird that’s continuing to watch you get destroyed and ripped open by a fifty-six year old. Great.

“God, baby. You’re fuckin’ helpless.” He grunts into your neck, resolve slowly slipping more. His noises get worse, louder. He doesn’t care enough anymore to pretend like this is some chore. 

He’s fucking you and he means it. 

Joel’s hips stutter after a few minutes, just in time with your own. Synced up perfectly. His rhythm is getting out of pace while you feel the pull deep in your core you haven’t felt in so long – white hot pooling in your stomach. You clench around him.

He can’t speak anymore, just like how you haven’t been able to for minutes now. All he can manage out are little grumbles into your hair, squeezing your body while he struggles with words. Getting pathetic himself.

“Fuckin’-- mm. Baby. Baby. Gon’cum soon.” 

At least he warns you. 

You could tell, anyway. The stuttering of his hips, the way he’s only hitting nice and deep now. But you’re in worse, you can’t warn him because your mouth is hung open entirely, spilling out the most pitiful string of moans that doesn’t seem to ever end. 

Without warning, you clench again. He groans, but gets louder when he feels you spill. Burst. All over his aching cock. 

“Shit, shit. You – you squirtin’?” Joel grumbles out, body spasming at the feeling of your liquids all coming out at once. Your legs are shaking, and he feels his own limbs join in. It was too much for him. 

He cums. Hard. Maybe harder than he ever has before, but you don’t have to find that bit out. 

The moment melts into a disgusting mess of simultaneous moans, whimpers, even from Joel. Despite the cold weather that was almost making you sick earlier, you feel hot. Sweaty. Both of  you.

Joel’s head comes to rest atop yours, stroking the back of your ponytail that he’d been tugging at the whole time. And for a moment – just a short moment – you thought he’d maybe take care of you after. Like a real man. 

But no. Apparently, you don’t know Joel well enough by now. He’s his own kind of man.

Once his breathing returns – somewhat – he’s back to ole’ Joel Miller. Grunts, huffs and drops you down by the tree. Tucks his spent cock back in. Before you know it, before you can speak, his pants and belt are back in place and his rifle is strapped back on his shoulder.

Your eyes shut, back scraped up from the rough tree he fucked you relentlessly against. Taking a shuddering breath, you rest for a moment, thinking that if he didn't give you any aftercare he’d at least let you have a moment to breathe. 

But again, no.

“Fuck you doin’?” 

Your single moment of silence is rudely interrupted by his southern drawl, entirely back to normal as if he didn’t have the most intense sex of his life only two minutes ago. As if forgetting it ever happened. 

And the map is back in his hand. And he looks so normal compared to you. And it makes you want to cry for whatever reason. 

There’s nothing else to do but hold back a pained whine from the soreness already building in your body, the blood you feel dripping on your back from the tree, and the metal taste of blood where he hit your lip. The slap on your cheek. The handprint on your throat. Fuck.

“C’mon, little shit. Gotta hurry. Now you wasted an hour of my time.”

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:

❤︎ « next story

“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”

“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”

“They’re at it again already, huh?”

“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”

College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!

But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.

Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 

And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.

However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”

“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”

“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 

Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 

Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 

“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”

“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”

“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 

She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 

You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 

You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…

You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 

It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!

“…hear me?…Y/n?”

You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”

She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”

Huh? “Where are you going?”

“To Haibara’s get-together?”

Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”

The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”

“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”

Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”

The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 

Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”

“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 

“Are you going?”

“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 

Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”

You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”

But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”

“Small group of friends, huh?”

“Yes!”

“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“

“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 

“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 

Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.

That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”

Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”

All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 

Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“

If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.

Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.

Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.

You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I regret this so fucking much…

Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?

The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.

Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 

So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.

But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?

Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.

The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.

You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.

Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”

Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”

A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 

“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.

“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 

The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”

Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”

You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”

“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”

Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“

“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”

You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 

He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”

Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.

The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.

The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 

You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 

When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 

You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…

And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—

“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“

“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”

“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”

This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”

“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”

You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 

“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“

“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 

“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 

Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 

“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 

You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”

“…Is that a bad thing?” 

You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?

That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.

What the…Is he being genuine right now? 

You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”

Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.

Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 

Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??

“You look nice.” 

You—……I’m sorry, what???

The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.

“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 

He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”

When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.

You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”

Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 

“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”

You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”

“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.

“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”

“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 

You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”

His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 

He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”

You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 

“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”

“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”

Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 

Oh fuck.

“...”

Don’t.

“….Y/n,”

Don’t say it.

“You never had your first ki—“

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 

With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”

A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”

And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.

Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 

Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 

Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.

Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.

But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”

It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”

He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”

Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”

Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“

“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”

Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“

“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 

It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.

He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”

You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”

“….I don’t hear a no.” 

You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?

However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 

“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.

Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.

In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust. 

Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”

He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”

Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 

But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”

He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 

“Trust me, pretty.”

Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.

With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.

Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 

He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”

“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.

“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”

Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.

“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“

And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.

It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.

“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”

Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.

Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”

And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.

You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 

He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”

You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 

It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.

“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed. 

“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”

He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 

His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 

Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 

You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?

And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 

I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”

It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 

Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“

“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 

“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”

Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”

Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”

It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”

“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.

You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.

You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..

….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.

“Y/n!”

But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.

Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”

“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“

“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 

You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”

“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”

Huh? “Hurry where??”

“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”

We!? “Together!?”

“Yeah?”

“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”

He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”

“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”

“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”

“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 

“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”

“….Yeah.”

“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.

Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”

His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”

“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”

What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”

“….No.” 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.

His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”

“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.

“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 

You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 

Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 

You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 

The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 

Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 

That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.

Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.

The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”

“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”

“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 

He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.

Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.

“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 

Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”

“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…

The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”

“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 

Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”

“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”

Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”

“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”

It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”

He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 

He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.

You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 

It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.

“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”

Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.

The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 

“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”

He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.

And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 

Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”

And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.

The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”

You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 

Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.

Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.

Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 

“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 

“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”

“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.

But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”

“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”

He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 

Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 

The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”

And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.

The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 

When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 

“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”

His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”

That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”

A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”

“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”

You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 

He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”

“You better.” 

BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!

Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 

You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”

“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”

The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”

Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”

Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”

“Okay, okay—“

“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”

“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”

You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”

“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”

The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”

I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[militaryapple]

AINT NOBODY TAKIN' YOU AWAY FROM ME.

sypnosis. going to an event with caleb was supposed to be fun - but teasing him & making him upset is even more fun!

cw. fem!reader, degradation, fingering, pet names (usage of wife, husband, baby & honey), somewhat voyeurism, p in v stay protected babes. aw hes like really insane i love u babe  

add ons. for @rcvcgers #1 supporter and bestie i know ur reading this btw stupid says what? lol i got u LMAOOO

wc. 2k

"you aren't going - no." caleb scowled. he looked at you, his gaze looking you up and down, scoffing. "cmon pip-squeak, you really don’t believe in taking you to the fleet’s get together. you remember what happened last time - i can’t let it happen again. stupid mistake of me.” he waved you away and you couldn’t help but letting out a ‘hmph!’ noise. so what you could’ve died? you do that all the time - it’s literally your job.

“you’re doing it again” you nudged him. “you don’t need to protect me, i can handle myself just fine caleb. also, it was just an unfortunate event that happened. even if i don’t leave with you i’ll find a way in.” you chipped. you notice caleb clenching his fists and dating his eyes around his uniform. he was thinking.

caleb turned to you, sighing.

“you aren’t leaving my side.” his gaze shifting away from you.

“wasn’t planning on it.” you squeezed his shoulder before walking away.

it took you a while to find an outfit. black? god that was plain, green? too much. through all the tossing and 'eughs' you finally found the dress. it was gorgeous. a red dress, long and silky, how It seemed just so right for a day like this. honestly you were a bit proud of yourself for having something like this in your closet, you didn't expect it but it was a pleasant surprise.

when you walked out the door, caleb tensed. god how he wanted to ravish you in that moment. how pretty you looked and how the dress connected to every single curve in your fucking body. the way it made your face pop out more, your hair done and set. how couldn't help but think about how much he wanted to ruin you. that pretty face, that hair, and the dress that hanged perfectly over you.

his pants tightened, and he let out a shaky sigh.

"so how do I look?" you spun around happily. for him? you were beautiful. you couldn't compete with anyone in the world - no the entire fucking galaxy. his pretty little thing, how he hated the thought of other men looking at you. he knows them, he knows what vile nasty things lay in their mind. yet he was no better than them when it came to you. the only difference is that, he had you. they didn't.

when you both left the house caleb made sure you were well protected. he stood by you, never leaving your side. his eyes staying around pretty you. it made you feel somewhat excited. come on, you dressed down like some actress going to an award winning show! well.. the fleet gala and an award show were practically the same thing! pearls, jewels, and a personal bodyguard? you were living THE life.

by the time you and caleb arrived, the scene was beautiful. the building was glistening, while you could see people come in and out of the large doors. caleb stood at the door, helping you out before leaning down to your ear. "beautiful isn't it? I know. I need you to remember to stick with me." he tugged on you.

you latched your arm around his and in you went. it was loud, bustling and most of the things you didn't understand. caleb was in a conversation, looking over at you occasionally to make sure you were okay. god you were BORED. you knew it would be a little boring but not this bad.

after a while you had slipped away, getting a drink. Caleb followed loosely behind you just to keep you in eyesight. so when he saw some random guy walk up to you, he couldn't help but tense. fuck, but it was impolite to step away from a conversation.

at first, you weren't interested. you were happily with your date, yet you couldn't help the fact that caleb looked like he was going to tear the poor guy to shreds, or the fact that you loved making caleb angry.

you started sipping on your drink, turning to the man and talking to him. he complimented your dress and you were sooo flattered. your face smiley and happy - while caleb couldn't do anything but clench his fist. he hated how happy you seemed with some other man. how polite you could be with someone while he wasnt there.

god.

did you know what that man was thinking? how nasty and vile he wanted to get with you? you weren't fucking stupid, you knew. you fucking knew how badly that man wanted to take advantage of you, yet here you were. feeding right into it. the thought just making calebs blood boil.

the man had gotten closer to you, too close for caleb's liking. putting his hand around your arm, how he moved around your body. not touching you - but enough to know that he was trying to make a move on you. caleb scoffed, this was as much as he could take. he needed to shut this down.

caleb made his way towards you, grabbing your drink from your hands and coming between you and the filthy man. "I'm sorry honey, i got a little caught up." he smiled, towards you. turning back to the man. "i hope my wife didn't cause too much trouble for you." he looked down at the man in front of him. with that, he scattered away. leaving only you and caleb.

he was quick to grab your arm and bring you to his office. closing the door and locking it. you didn't know he had an office here - was this his building? you moved back, shaking him off. "what? we were having a friendly conversation." you pout out.

caleb scoffed at you little act, grabbing your arms and pushing you against the wall, his hand behind your head making sure you didn't hurt yourself. "don't you fucking do that. he wouldn't have let you go if I didn't introduce you as my wife." caleb scowled. he moved back, pressing his hands against his temples.

"we're going home, I cant trust you here." caleb turned, making his way back to the hallways. you rushed to him, grabbing his arm and tugging him back. "it'd be a bad look for the colonel to send his wife back home. you don't want them targeting me and thinking that I'm weak, right?" he stopped and stiffened. turning back to you. you didn't realize how tall caleb was until he was actually towering over you.

he let out a simple "ha", looking away then back at you. "target you? are they really stupid enough to target someone I call my wife? how about I show them who you belong to. so when you go home, people know exactly who you're with." caleb grabbed your arms and moved you to his desk, sitting you up on it before kissing you. he didn't waste time having his hands around your body.

"caleb," you whimpered, holding his back and digging into his uniform. "we shouldn't be doing this here" you wiggle under him, yet his hand keeps you seated on his desk. he moved back away from you, "so then tell me to stop, baby." is hands moved under your dress, feeling around your thigh before moving up to your panties rubbing small circles around your cunt.

he leaned down to your neck, biting and sucking on it while his fingers rubbed your nub. "no one can make you feel like this anyways, it was stupid of you to even try to provoke me." he whispered, moving up and kissing around your face. you whined and jolted at his touch, looking at him.

caleb looked back at you, his hand that was once on your hip now caressing your face. "oh baby," he coo's "what's the matter? is your husband making you feel good?" his face feigned uneasiness, while his fingers poked and rubbed your soaking heat. you nodded in response, grabbing on to his arm and clutching it tightly. "wait baby please 'm gonna," you begged out, eyes starting to tear up.

he wiped your face, coo'ing you. "go ahead, cum for me, let the whole building know how good your husband makes you feel." he hummed. he moved you up and flipped you over. your head pushed down on his desk while your legs dangled off it, pushing your panties to the side. "what? come on honey, you didn't think that was it right? what about me? and you're not even well prepared yet." he sighed.

his hands rubbed your slick, then he put one digit in your cunt, then another. his pace was agonizingly slow as he pumped in and out of you. it practically made you sob. you begged for him to go faster, to make you feel any better, yet your pleas were ignored. caleb laughed, holding your back down.

"after that little show? why should I make you feel good?" he scoffed, his fingers slipping out of your wet cunt. "no! please, please baby make me feel good - we'll have a little family, yeah? my husband."

it was like something in caleb had turned, he slid his fingers back inside your needy cunt, stretching you. you coated his digits with each slip. his hands moving faster making you shake and grab on to the desk. with that, caleb had slipped out his fingers and you could hear shuffling in the back.

he undid his belt, pulling out his cock. he lined himself up before planting a kiss on your neck. "need you to relax for me okay hon? just for a moment." with that, he slid himself in. his pace slow as he thrusted into you. oh fuck the feeling of you making him want to cum on the spot.

he couldn't help but think of you, with his kids and a ring on your finger, calling him your husband for real. fuck, he would love that. love a little family with just you and hi,. you couldn't need to go anywhere - you wouldn't need anyone else. just him and you.

calebs hands made their way to your hips, pulling you back on his cock. "fuck baby," he groaned. "cant wait to make you mine, show everyone who you fucking belong to - who you need." he whined. he leaned down, biting your shoulder and neck, kissing and licking over the spots.

"my pretty wife," he moaned, moving your hair away from your face while he picked up the pace. he didn't care who heard you both - fuck he didn't even care about the event. so what if people heard? you were his wife. he could touch you, make you feel good. no one could make you feel the way he does and you know it. he's made sure of it.

his hands slipped under your dress, he fondled your bra, then your tits. they were so soft, and just right for him. fuck he loved that about you. he loved everything about you.

he loved your scent, how you talked and stood for yourself, how you make sure he's okay daily and how fucking good you can make him feel - how he thinks about you every time he's in the office bathroom trying to make himself feel good. you were crucial to his life.

his pace quickened and you whined "baby - wait - cum gonna cum soon," you moaned, hearing this caleb moved a hand down to your sobbing cunt, rubbing your nub while his hips slammed into you.

you tensed around him, your eyes rolling back as your legs curled up. god did he make you feel good. "my husband - fuck fuck i love you." you groaned before twitching. caleb rolled his hips, smacking against you before slowing down and kissing your body all over. then fixing your dress.

"once you go home, wait for me honey, okay? i'll be home with some extra things for me and you." he said, kissing your cheeks then lips. he moved away getting some towels for you and water, fixing himself before leaving.

yeah - maybe you could get used to being a housewife.

[backtothefanfiction]

First Impressions | Joaquin Torres

Summary: the first time Sam introduces you to Joaquin

Warnings: flirting, fluff, playful banter

A/N: I fell in love with this man during Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Completely forgot about him until I watched the new Cap the other night. So here’s this little before going to sleep drabble. As you will quickly be able to tell I love the idea of a Carol Danvers niece reader given the whole air force thing. Hope people enjoy. May write some more in the future.

Joaquin was smitten the second you walked into his house. When Sam said he was headed over with “some new recruit” he hadn’t expected you. A roughed up baseball cap on top of your head, faded baseball jersey, baggy oversized jeans and sneakers, dripping from head to toe and almost shivering.

“What happened?” Joaquin asked Sam as you tentatively stepped through the sliding door, not wanting to drip too much on this strangers carpet.

“He dropped me in the lake.” Your voice blurted out, completely unamused, shooting daggers at the still newly appointed Captain America.

“Yeah, well, still better that than a 40ft drop onto hard ground.” Sam retorted.

“Or you could have just not dropped me at all?!” You stressed, hands raised in the air, still in complete disbelief over this turn of events. “That’s the last time I’m ever flying with you.” You muttered and you saw Joaquin let out a little chuckle over the situation.

That’s when you really took him in. The guy who Sam sung the praises of. His supposedly best recruit, not that he would actually tell him that.

“Come on, I’ll get you a towel.” Joaquin said, leading you upstairs and to the bathroom.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, do you?” You asked him, as he handed you a couple towels.

“Umm, yeah, of course, I’ll just go find you something.”

You didn’t wait for him to return before you whipped off your clothes and immediately jumped in the shower to wash the murky lake water off of you. You were grateful that it was an old tub and shower curtain situation and not one of those see through glass cabinet shower situations, not that it didn’t stop Joaquin from blushing when he came back into the bathroom a few minutes later with some clothes in hand.

“Oh, sorry- I didn’t realise you were- I’ll just leave these- uh- yeah.” He rushed out before quickly shutting the door again.

He hesitated a moment as he stood with his back to the door, his brain fixated on the small glimpse he got of your naked back from behind the shower curtain. He could feel the flush in his cheeks. The smile that threatened his lips. He fought to hide it as he went back down to Sam in the kitchen.

“So who is she?” Joaquin asked as he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and passed it to Sam before picking up his own previously discarded mug to finish.

“She’s a Danvers.” Sam said, as if the surname alone held a lot of weight, but Joaquin still didn’t bite. “As in Carol Danvers… Captain Marvel.” Sam said, walking him through it slowly until Joaquin’s face began to flicker with recognition. “Carol’s her aunt. Before she became Captain Marvel she was one heck of an Air Force Pilot. Kid saw what her aunt did and decided to pick up the mantle.”

“And she’s good?” Joaquin fished, a flame for the woman upstairs really taking hold as Sam kept adding more fuel to the fire.

“Yeah, she’s fucking great. Best female pilot I’ve ever seen.”

“So you looking to set her up with a pair of wings?” Joaquin asked, even though he had a hint of jealousy to his tone. He enjoyed being the only person other than Sam who had access to the now not so secret military wings, but he also couldn’t deny the new found need to go flying with you on a sunny afternoon and treat you to a picnic on the top of a mountain or something.

“We’ll see.” Sam said sceptically, but Joaquin knew from the way Sam had even brought you to meet him he thought you had what it takes.

“What are you two girls talking about?” You asked as you came striding back into the kitchen in a pair of Joaquin’s joggers and his old air force T-shirt. You were using a towel to squeeze out your hair and Joaquin couldn’t deny you looked right at home in his house, wearing his clothes.

“Lover boy here was grilling me about you.” Sam joked, taking in the way Joaquin looked at you.

“Was he now?” You asked feigning interest and playing up to the little bit in order to embarrass him, but as you sat across from him at the table and really took him in for the first time, you couldn’t deny he was handsome- and if the T-shirt he gave you had anything to say, you definitely had a lot in common to bond over.

“Uh- um- no- I-“ Joaquin began to stutter bashfully.

“It’s all cool dude,” you reassured. “I know he’s just messing. You really shouldn’t let him rile you up like that.”

Joaquin sighed before he leaned in closer to you, “How do you stay so calm around him?” He asked as if Sam wasn’t there and you had all the secrets.

“Eh, when you grew up being told about your badass aunt with actual super powers, some guy in a read white and blue bird costume is nothing.” You joked.

“Hey!” Sam pointed at you, “don’t you dare turn him against me or I’ll drop your ass in the lake again.”

“So you admit it! You did it on purpose.” You said, slamming your hand on the table animatedly.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What are you gonna do about it?” He asked back, but you didn’t say anything more. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You rolled your eyes at him before fixing them on Joaquin instead as Sam’s phone began to ring. You both turned your eyes on him as he checked the caller ID. “I need to take this.” He said, before getting up and dismissing himself, stepping out the back door to take the call outside.

“Would you like coffee?” Joaquin asked to break up the silence the two of you were left in.

“Umm, yes, that would be great.” You said with a smile and he got up to pour you a cup full from the pot.

“It looks good on you.” He said as he came back over a moment later and handed you the mug.

“What, now?” You said confused.

“Uh, my shirt,” he said with a shrug, as he committed to the statement. “It looks good on you.”

You couldn’t help but blush slightly under his gaze. He was cute and confident and oddly endearing. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he sat himself back down. “I guess I’ll keep it then.” You joked.

“The only way you’re keeping that thing is if you were my girlfriend.” He replied, half as a joke, half as a way of informing you just how much that shirt meant to him.

“Well I guess you better ask me on a date then.” You smirked playfully as he took a sip of his coffee and he almost choked as he spat it back into his cup. But before he could say anymore, Sam came back through the sliding door.

“Alright lovebirds, you can stop having your meet cute moment now, we gotta go,” he said to Joaquin.

“And what about me?” You said indignantly, feeling a little put out.

“He’ll be back in time to take you out on a proper date later.” Sam retorted, marching back through the house to get his shit from where he’d left it by the front door.

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” You asked, completely brushing over the rest of what he’d said. “I don’t even live anywhere near here!” You stressed. “You just brought me here and now you’re gonna up and leave me here!” You said indignantly.

Joaquin froze in the middle of the hallway next to you, looking from his mentor and back to you as he tried to keep up with what’s going on. He felt conflicted. “I mean, can’t she just come with us.” He offered. “I mean, you brought her out here because you wanted to see what she could do. So I say let her.”

Sam looked between the two of you slowly, before he conceded. “Uh, fine. But if anything happens with her it’s on your head.” He warned but you were both smiling.

“So, is this technically our first date?” You ribbed him as he began to usher you out the door so he could lock up.

“We’ll see. Depends if you like it or not.” He mused and you had to admit, his cheeky smile did make you swoon.

“And if I don’t?” You asked with a playful twinkle in your eye.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you with just as equal playfulness and innuendo, “you will.”

[cheriladycl01]

hey babe💗 could i please request a stedad!fernando x stepdaughter!reader? like her reader doesn't have a very good father figure and she's really into figure skating so when her mom starts dating fernando he's like learning how to be a good dad for her he could like learn about figure skating and happily show her skating to the other drivers on the grid just be like the father she deserves it's okay if you don't do platonic requests :))

I’ll be better for you - Fernando x Step-Daughter! Reader

Plot - Fernando has the biggest girl dad energy. And he’s never been able to use that until he met your mother and you came along.

Growing up, your father had been incredibly absent and he was never around. You knew off him and you saw him on rare occasions, but he always seemed too busy.

Your mother filed for a divorce with him when you were 14 and even though you'd been expecting it eventually you didn't take to it very well. You were angry at your dad and couldn't understand why he was never there for you.

The time it upset you the most was when you'd really got into ice-skating because it was your only memory with him, once a year in winter he'd take you skating. You thought it was a hobby of his and tried to get into it more assuming he'd be around more if you took on one of his hobbies.

However he never turned up for your competitions or tournaments and it broke both yours and your mothers hearts. When a competition went well, you just wanted to run up and hug him but he was never there, your mood immedleity slumped from false promises as your mum attempted to apologise on his behalf as you snatch your phone to see the shitty 'Sorry got caught up with work, ill be there next time' text.

When your mum moved on, you pretty much cut contact with your dad happy that it was just you and her because at the end of the day she was all your thought you needed.

But then she met him.

And you werent the nicest to him at first, being an angsty teen and seeing a new man with your mother after someone who claimed he loved her was so very absent.

He attempted to form a bond with you, considering he loved your mother more than anything and you could genuinely see how happy he made her.

But he too was absent at first. And you got it, he was this big name F1 driver who went from the sands of Bahrain one week to the Cherry Blossoms of Japan the next. But unlike with your dad, he never missed anything your mother asked him to come to.

A work christmas dinner? He was there. Parents Evening? He was there. Grocery Shopping? He was there! And you saw the change in your mother. She felt appreciated and loved. But it was still hard for you to warm up to him.

He understood this all too well.

He tried to come to any important thing your mum asked him too that was to do with you. He was at every ice skating competition you had and he would try his hardest to pick you up from school, despite your initial embarrsement of the boys in your year who fauned over your mums boyfriends car.

He was in the house more and more and you observed him.

The way he'd always offer you his food, or to help you clean your bedroom when you came down overwhelmed. If you wanted to go shopping but your friends had told you they werent up for it, he'd offer to go out with you.

And you started to fall in love with the idea of him being more than your mum's boyfriend, or a stable male figure in your life.

This idea was solidified when you'd been invited to come to a race with him while it was your half term. He didn't know when you were going to get there but you were adamant to see the whole weekend and surprise him. When you walked up seeing him sat outside the Aston Martin MotorHome with a few other drivers you were close enough to hear their conversations.

"Yeah look this is her at her last competition, she did so well im so proud of her but she was robbed of first place i think the judges were biased, like look, look at that spin!" he says as he moves the phone closer for Lewis, Lando and Carlos to see.

"Woah, she's really good! Have you suggested like ... her going further?" Lewis asks looking at you spin.

"Mmmm we've talked about it! And she was really excited when i said is support her the whole way, which is nice as sometimes i cant tell if im being a good enough role model for her" he sighs, swiping through some pictures he had of you or the two of you and your mother.

"Dude, by the looks of it... thats your family now!" Lando expressed.

"I know, but i don't want to force my way in. Im happy ... just being there for her yano?" Fernando smiles and you decide now is a good time to make yourself know despite trying to hold back your tears.

"Hey!" you call out jogging up and Fernando spins round face lighting up as he hears you.

"Y/N?" he exclaims looking over you before pulling you into a tight hug and kissing your forehead.

"W-What are you doing here?" he asks, looking over you.

"I asked mum if we could come early and she let me have the day off so we could get here earlier!" you grin at the older man and he pulls you back into a hug.

"Where is she?" he asks looking round with his eyes wide at the promise of your mum being close.

"Just putting the bags in the room, she thought id want to come see you!" you grin and he smiles.

"And did you? Want to come see me!" he asks, and you can tell theres a bit of insecurity behind their so you do something you haven't dared to do in the years he's been with your mother. Even once he married her.

"Of course i did! Now come on dad! I want a drink!" you smile taking his hands, you don't miss his friends faces light up at what you called him. And even he's a little stuck for a minute before he follows you.

The rest of the weekend was looking good, apart from the fact that it was seeming like a wet weekend where anything could happen. Fernando had been looking quick all weekend, due to the specific motivation of his family being there.

"You're looking quick this weekend!" you grin as you have lunch with your mum and Fernando.

"Yeah. I've got to impress both my girls don't i?" he grins and you nod enthusiastically.

"Erm, i have a competition coming up, its in three weeks. Do you think you can make it?" you ask in a slight mutter, knowing you had to bring it up at some point and the sooner the better.

"You know i will! What's its for?" he asks taking a bite into his wrap .

"To see if i can get into the Olympics" you say nervously.

"WHAT?" he exclaims his eyes lighting up.

"Y-eah" you offer, trying not to maintain eyecontact with him.

"Oh my god! Why - why didn't you tell me this is incredible Y/N!" he says happily taking your hand and pulling you closer to him to hug you.

You felt so loved around Fernando and you knew that this weekend was the weekend you had to ask him.

And that proved easier the minute he got a podium! You'd involved the whol Aston Martin Team in it. The plan was to stand behind the camera man while they take the group photo of the podium position and points position for Lance with a sign asking him to officialy be your dad.

You had the paper work, you had it for months actually but you hadnt had the courage to ask him in fear he wouldn't want to.

So here you were, sign hidden behind your back as you nervously watch the team get photos. Someone was filming Fernandos reaction and someone was filming you, it was all so exhilarating and nerve wracking at the same time.

You held the sign up and Fernando looks at you before reading it over taking in the words. He cocks his head to the side in confusion before you hold up the papers. His eyes widen and he shoots up nearly knocking over the trophy until a team member grabs it as he jumps over all the stuff in front of them.

"Are you serious?" he asks looking over the papers to see the legitimacy of them.

"Yes" you say in a whisper. He picks you up twirling your round kissing your forehead.

"Yes of course. But i dont need papers to show you ill be there for you when you need me!" he says, tears in his normally stoic eyes.

You hold him tightly, sobbing at the relief he had said yes. Your mum stays to the side filming the moment letting you two have your moment before you and Fernando reach out to have her join the hug. He kisses her on the lips before holding you both closely.

"My girls" he smiles.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[randompiecesofwriting]

Coffee Snob

Summary: Robby meets his neighbor in the middle of the night on the rooftop of his apartment building, quickly establishing a relationship he wasn’t fully expecting and finding it to be more serious than originally thought when she shows up in his ER a few days later

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Reader gets stitches but process isn’t described at all, Author has absolutely no medical knowledge, Robby’s a worrywart

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone who read my Jack fic Wrong Name! It got way more love an attention than I ever thought it would and that means the absolute world to me! This is my first Robby fic so of course let me know what you think and I hope you like it!

Part 2

There was a man in your spot.

You’ve been up here nearly every night for the past few months and never had there been a man in your spot.

Usually you crave the silence this spot gave you, the peace of nighttime, the calm connectivity of the city below you. A man in your spot threatened to burst that bubble.

But seeing this man, in his fraying hoodie, with his legs dangling over the edge, drinking a beer, didn’t bring you any bitterness or disappointment. Rather you felt strangely calm.

Before you could fully process what you were doing you gave the handle to the roof access door a little jiggle and kicked the rocks beneath your feet softly, letting him know you were here before calling out “You know I’m not an expert but I’m pretty sure heights and alcohol don’t mix well”

He pivoted around slowly, your loud entrance having the desired effect of warning him of your arrival rather than startling him.

Soft brown eyes connected with yours in silence for a moment, you taking the opportunity to see just how downtrodden the man before you looked before his eyes flickered down to your hands, noting the beer that dangled from your fingers with a quiet huff “not an expert huh”

“Not an expert” you confirmed, taking a slow step forward “I practice this as an amateur”

He snorted under his breath at that. Turning back to the city before him, you taking that as a silent invitation to join him, planting yourself just far enough away to avoid making it awkward. “You know that’s my spot”

At that a dejected chuckle came out of him, an acknowledgement of an inside joke you weren’t apart of before shaking his head “not an expert but you have a spot”

“Never said I usually drink up here” you tossed the comment out as you twisted the top off your drink, giving his abandoned can next to him a toast before taking a swig.

The silence blanketed the two of you for a moment, somehow avoiding ever being oppressive or awkward, before he broke it “usually my spot’s at work”

“ahhh” you hummed, watching the lights of the city below you “so you’re the expert here then”

He laughed at that, a big sigh coming out of him as his shoulders finally fell slightly “never said I usually drink up there”

You let your eyes drift over his form for a second, taking the time to finally properly appreciate the man beside you “Honestly I kind of hope not, you strike me as someone with a job I wouldn’t want alcohol mixed with”

Another chuckle left the man, his chin tucking down into his chest as if to hide it “What gave that away, the scrubs?”

You smiled mischievously at him from behind the lip of your bottle, taking the time to take another swig, letting the silence between the two of you settle a bit before speaking “since you’re not offering the information that mean I get to guess?”

A deep breath left him as he looked you over for a second, clearly debating how much further he really wanted to venture into this conversation before answering with a shrug “give it your best shot”

You shifted slightly to better face him, picking your knee up and brining it onto the rooftop with you to fully look at the man before you, giving a dramatic hum before answering “Well the rooftop viewing is hinting at you being a bit of an adrenaline junkie, posture screams that you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, eyes tell me you’ve seen far too much tragedy in your time, dark scrubs to hide bodily fluid stains” you scrunched your nose up slightly at that,  pointedly ignoring the man’s startled gaze as you continued “and finally zip-up hoodie to help you contend with both inside and outside temperatures when necessary. I’m going to go with ER doc”

You tried to bite back your shit eating grin as the man before you froze on the spot, his entire body seeming to go through a system-reboot before a shocked huff escaped him, his neck forcing his head to bring his gaze back to the city as a chuckle finally escaped him “alright that was impressive”

“What can I say it’s a gift” you shrugged humbly, taking another swig before continuing “plus Ethel on the second floor will not stop talking about Michael, the handsome ER doctor who’s single and would really benefit from getting to know a nice girl like me”

At that a real laugh spilled from his lips, his eyes casting up to the sky as he sighed, giving his head a soft shake as he did so “I didn’t realize Ethel was so worried about me”

“You are alone in the middle of the night on the roof drinking”

He snapped his gaze over to you at your words, throwing a pointed look at the bottle in your hands before raising a single brow.

“Didn’t you hear I’m a nice girl”

Another sharp exhalation through his nose, another soft shake of his head, another comfortable silence wrapping around the two of you.

“Robby”

“hmm” you hummed back the silent question, raising a brow of your own in response.

“Most people call me Robby”

“Y/N” you offered your own name in response, extending a hand to him “nice to meet you Dr.Robby”

He smiled at that, the first honest one you had gotten all night, before he slipped his hand into yours “It’s nice to meet you Y/N”

-

You were there again the next night.

Robby wasn’t sure whether he had been hoping you would be or not.

Originally he had sought out the rooftop for the quiet it would offer, for the solace of it all when things got too overwhelming, another person being there threatened to ruin that.

But for some reason in his head you didn’t really count against that.

“So does the alcohol and heights thing still apply if someone else brought it”

You threw your gaze over your shoulder at his words with a warm smile and he couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t seem at all surprised to see him there, couldn’t help but wonder if you had been looking forward to this as much as he had.

“You’ll have to tell me, I thought we had decided you were the expert here”

“I believe that is what you decided” he volleyed back, handing you one of the cans as he sat down beside you, watching you crack it open and take a sip, scrunching your nose up slightly at the taste before looking down at the label.

“Okay if you’re going to start supplying the beer for these we’re going to have to work on your taste” he tried not to attach too much weight to the implied invitation in your words.

“what’s wrong with these?”

“They’re so one note, so flat, so quintessentially IPA” you spoke with heightened dramatics and he couldn’t help but note just how much he appreciated the lightness of the conversation, the inconsequence of it all, the opportunity to finally talk about something other than the hospital. “I’m fairly certain if you were to look up wheat beer in the dictionary the entry would just be a photo of this can”

“So your problem with it is that it tastes like beer?”

You glared at him at that, Robby unable to fully bite down the smirk that grew on his lips at the expression “My problem is that it tastes like beer stripped of anything that could make it interesting.”

“So it’s not bad it’s just boring”

“That’s arguably worse”

“mm no I’m fairly certain I’d rather drink a boring beer than a bad one”

“You willing spent your own money on this swill you no longer get to have an opinion” he couldn’t help but laugh at that, shake his head slightly as you went on “It’s like coffee. You know when you brew it poorly, or use a shitty machine and instead of getting the subtle fruity or chocolate notes of the beans you just get bitter brown water”

And a part of him was almost excited to be the butt of your next joke, to reveal what he had to say next, something you seemed to be able to read in his eyes. “No”

“You’re going to hate me for this”

“Michael please”

He was grinning at the use of his first name, at the sheer desperation in your tone “I’m fairly certain the only coffee I drink comes from a ten dollar machine that’s as old as I am”

You reacted as if you had been physically struck, hand going to your chest as you winced “I can’t believe you’ve never had good coffee”

“I’ve had good coffee before”

“Never experienced a proper pour over”

“I just said that’s the coffee I drink day to day”

“Never taken the time to appreciate the subtle flavors of a good brew”

“Some days it’s just about the caffeine”

“I’m making you coffee for your next shift” Your words yanked him out of the conversation suddenly, his brain taking a few seconds to fully comprehend your words.

“Wait what”

“What time do you leave? 7? 8?” You steamrolled right through his confusion, the favor already a done deal in your head.

“No you don’t have to-“

“I’ll put it in a to-go cup for you” You cut him right off, the sentence coming off so matter of fact-ly it had him chuckling.

“If I’m rushing to work I won’t have time to properly enjoy it”

You shrugged at that, throwing him a cheeky wink as you spoke “guess you’ll have to stop by early then”

A silence settled over the two of you at that, Robby taking the opportunity to properly look at you for the first time that night as you gazed over the city. “Coffee snob, can’t stand boring food, old burns on your forearms. I’m guessing chef”

You grinned at him from his periphery and Robby found himself reciprocating the expression easily. “Ethel’s such a gossip”

He snorted at that, taking a sip of his drink, suddenly a bit more excited for what the morning held for him than usual.

-

You had tried to convince the rest of the kitchen you would be fine, that surely if you just held pressure against it for another ten minutes that the bleeding would finally stop on its own.

None of them of course believed you, but in your opinion it was a valiant effort that should be noted.

You’d at least been able to fend them off from trying to go with you, the poor kid who had accidently cut you looked like he was ready to carry you there himself with the way he carried the guilt of your injury on his shoulders.

But you made it to the PTMH on your own, packed into a waiting room holding more people than it felt like it was fire rated for, and finally taken back to a room after a doctor had caught sight of the shade of red you had stained the once white prep towel you had been using for pressure.

As you were led back a part of you wondered if you should ask for him. This was afterall his hospital, you probably could’ve been seen sooner if you had pulled that card. But was it really your card to pull? You’ve sat on the roof a few times with the man, made him coffee once, did that somehow entitle you to specifically request him?

And even if it did was that really fair? The staff clearly had a system in place, prioritizing, as they should, the most severe cases first you absolutely weren’t going to mess with that.

So instead you kept your mouth shut and followed the doctor who had introduced herself as Mckay and the med student Javadi back to a bed in the ED.

You sat up on the bed as you had been instructed, Dr.Mckay moving to the computer and typing away immediately while Javadi moved to prep a suture kit, the two working together in surprisingly good tandem.

“Now Y/N since this is a teaching hospital do you mind if I let my med student take over here?” Dr.Mckay asked with a comforting smile, gesturing to the girl who didn’t look like she was old enough to be out of high school let alone a doctor.

“No I’ll happily be your pin cushion” Javadi froze at your words, giving you a wide eye look before looking over at Dr.Mckay for direction who only laughed good naturally from behind the terminal and gave her student a small nod to continue.

The rest of the appointment passed without a hiccup. Javadi stitching you up like an absolute pro and sending you on your way with instructions on how to care for it and to see a doctor in a week to get them removed.

You had almost made it through your entire visit without seeing him when on your way out you heard your name being called from behind you.

With one hand still on the door you spun around to look at who had called your name, the rapid sudden movement making you lightheaded and slightly woozy on the spot, your legs starting to wobble beneath you.

Two strong arms caught your own before the world could tilt too much, the new grounding force as well as the stillness more than enough to keep you upright and centered to the spot.

The soft, brown eyes now staring deeply into your own, however, clearly hadn’t picked up on your newfound steadiness. Snapping sharply back and forth between your own, calling your name urgently as his grip on you tightened.

“Robby I’m fine” you tried to brush him off but the man before you wasn’t having any of it.

“What’s wrong are you-“ he paused suddenly, his thumb catching on the bandage on your forearm drawing his gaze down “are you a patient?”

“I was a patient” you corrected him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling your arms back from him “just a few stitches I’ve already been discharged”

“Few stitches and you’re feeling dizzy did they even have you on fluids?” He asked with a frown, barely listening to your “no” in response before he was pulling you into the nearest empty room by your hand.

“I don’t need fluids” you protested weakly as he ignored you completely, helping you up onto the bed and immediately going to the terminal in the room and logging in.

“Can’t believe they would send you on your way without any fluids who patched you up?” his complaint was spoken gruffly under his breath, just soft enough you weren’t entirely sure if it was a question for you or the computer.

“Robby please”

He finally paused at that, finally looked up at you and made proper eye contact, peering at you from above his glasses with a clearly displeased expression.

“Ask me the questions” His brows furrowed slightly in response, his head tilting ever so slightly to one side making you dramatically roll your eyes “fine I’ll do it. Are you experiencing any light-headedness, dizziness, or nausea?” You pretended to think on it for a second, humming softly before answering, ticking each response off on your fingers as you did so “no, no, and no”

Robby looked nothing short of completely unimpressed by your skit, merely raising a single eyebrow in response.

“I just turned around too fast” you tried to explain with no small amount of exasperation in your voice “world went off kilter for a second because of it but that’s it”

At that he sighed heavily, taking off his glasses and giving his eyes a tired rub before he straightened his posture, crossing his arms over his chest before gesturing down to your arm “what happened”

You huffed a little at how the words were less a question than a command “accident at work, got sliced by a knife. Bleeding wouldn’t stop so I came here”

He clearly wasn’t completely placated by your answer but let it slide anyway, taking a seat on a rolling stool and coming up next to you “can I see?”

Wordlessly you placed your arm in his hands, watching his fingers delicately undo the dressing Javadi had just wrapped for you minutes before. He took a deep breath once the stitches were unearthed, taking a moment to properly look at each of them as his thumb stroked softly back and forth over the skin around it.

“Stitches look good”

“Javadi did a good job”

His sharp gaze again cut up to you with a small frown on his face, his thumbs back and forth movement halting “you had a med student working on you”

“You just said she did good” you shot back with a tired laugh, a sound that finally had the corners of his lips tilting up.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Your own small smile dropped instantly at his question, at the rawness of it, the vulnerability.

“It was no big deal. I didn’t want to bother you with it”

“Bother me with it” he repeated almost bitterly under his breath with a shake of his head, pivoting slightly to reach for a new set of dressings, getting ready to start wrapping up your arm again before speaking louder this time “how long were you waiting out there”

You shrugged at that, choosing to focus your gaze down on your arm as he started to wrap it rather than the man himself “Not long, there were people who needed-“

“And yet you’re lightheaded from blood-loss”

He took in a sharp breath right after the words slipped out of him, Robby recognizing the sharpness in his tone before you could point it out to him and giving himself a deep breath to try and reset before continuing “Just- next time bother me okay. I don’t care how small it is”

“Okay” you agreed blindly, Robby seeming to notice your lack of attention and giving your wrist a soft squeeze, physically pulling your gaze up to meet his.

“I mean it. No matter what. You find yourself in the Pitt I want you to ask for me okay. Or Jack Abbot if I’m not here he’ll take care of you”

And you couldn’t help but smile softly at his concern, nodding along with him before repeating yourself with more conviction “okay”

He mirrored your smile with one of his own, giving you a nod before softly placing your arm back in your lap and backing up a bit, you having not noticed how close he had gotten over the course of looking you over. “Now you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine” you assured him “promise I’ll find the juice with the highest sugar content the minute I get back to work”

He smile fell instantly at your words, head going back into his hands as he groaned dramatically “of course you’re going back to work”

And you couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics “dinner rush, they need me. I’ll cut back though, won’t do anything with this arm scouts honor”

“were you even a scout?” His tone was nothing short of unamused making your snort.

“I’ll send someone by with dinner for the whole staff” you tried to distract him with a grin, Robby unable to bite down his own in response.

“At least tell me someone is coming by to pick you up”

“nah I walked here”

Another dramatic groan, one you weren’t entirely sure wasn’t fully for your benefit “You’re killing me here honey”

He started to stand at that, as if he hadn’t thrown your entire world off kilter again with a simple pet name, and started to take off his gloves “Text me when you make it back to the restaurant okay” he paused after that, seemed almost unsure of his next words before he forced them out “and come by mine tonight when you’re done I’ll change your dressings for you”

“I can change my own-“

“Let me” he interrupted with a soft a plea.

You couldn’t help but pause at that, to look the man before you over once, to note the sincerity in his expression before answering “I may be pretty late” you tried to warn him, playing it off like you were trying to get him to back down, fully knowing you were hoping he wouldn’t.

“doesn’t matter” his answer came quick and without any real thought behind it, as if the conclusion were obvious “I know where to get a good coffee if I need it”

“make a guy a cup of coffee once and all of a sudden he thinks he’s entitled to more” you teased with a smirk

He chuckled softly at that, hiding his gaze down in his hands briefly before looking back up at you “You’ll come right?”

“Yeah Mike I’ll be there”

A lopsided smile grew on his face at the nickname “good” he pushed the door open behind him and stood slightly off to the side to allow you to pass, letting his hand fall to the small of your back as you did so “now get out of here before I hook you up to an IV anyways”

You laughed off the threat. Ignoring the tingle left behind from his touch as he ushered you forward, not making it very far before a blonde woman in scrubs came rushing in, nose buried in a tablet.

“Robby there you are we have a-“ she cut herself off as she raised her eyes to the scene before her, her gaze zeroing in quickly on the hand Robby still had on your spine, on the closeness between you two, a grin that could only be described as downright wolfish growing on her face as she cut her eyes to meet Robby’s “this blue tumbler?”

You raised a brow at the question, cutting your eyes up to meet Robby’s only to see his cheeks starting to go pink as he ducked his head ever so slightly with a soft sigh “Y/N this is Dana, the only person able to keep this entire ED running in something resembling order, also the person who stole the coffee you gave me the other day”

Immediately you were grinning at the woman, relishing the way she was able to make Robby sweat from beneath her gaze “You tried it? What did you think?”

She took a second longer to pull her gaze from Robby, relishing the way he squirmed before her before she smiled warmly at you “best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had”

“Thank you!” You exclaimed in relief, giving Robby a pointed elbow in the side as you said it “this man doesn’t properly appreciate a good cup of coffee I swear. You ever been to Brewsters on Canton?”

She shook her head at your question, popping one hip to stand more comfortably as if she were settling into the conversation “that where you get it from?”

“Where I got he beans from” You nodded eagerly “you go on Tuesdays ask for Joey he’ll hook you up with the freshly roasted shit”

“Okay Dana did you need something” Robby cut in before she could respond in pure exasperation, sending the woman a silent glare that you couldn’t help but giggle at.

She seemed to bite back her own laugh as well, her smirk sent at Robby filled with mirth as she nodded “asthmatic kid’s family in asking to see you. Not an emergency I think they just got questions”

“Thank you Dana I’ll be right there” he sent her what was obviously a dismissal with a pointed glare, Dana taking the whole thing in stride and fading back from the two of you, never going too far and looking much too interested in her tablet to really be doing anything productive.

“I like her” You chuckled up at him, the corners of his own mouth tipping up despite his obvious best attempt to remain stern.

“Yeah that’s what I was afraid of”

You grinned back at him at that, reaching out almost instinctually to give his arm a soft squeeze as you started to drift towards the exit “alright doc I’ll let you get back to it”

“I mean it you feel even slightly dizzy I want you back here for an IV” he called after you, staying rooted on the spot as you parted.

“Aye yai cap” you mock saluted with a smirk “tell the woman eavesdropping in the corner I’ll send you in with a cup of coffee for her tomorrow”

“Thank you sweetheart” Dana called back with a grin, not even bothering to pretend she wasn’t doing exactly that.

You grinned back at her and with a final nod left the ED, the door barely swinging back shut behind you before Dana was beside Robby once again, the two of them watching the door close fully with vastly different expressions.

Dana chuckled under her breath, pressing the tablet in her hands to Robby’s chest as she clapped his shoulder and gave it a shake “you are so screwed Robinavitch”

Almost numbly Robby grabbed the tablet from her and peered down at it, barely noting the words that came out under his breath as he said them “yeah I know”

Dana cackled loudly at that, leaving her attending in his spot as she started to make her way back to the nursing station “oh I cannot wait to tell Abbot”

That seemed to knock Robby out of his stupor, his head whipping around to watch the charge nurse disappear around the corner. “Wait Dana”

Part 2

[uzurimisery]

love thy neighbor. / john price x reader

Buying a house to use when you’re never home is a stupid idea, but John Price has done it anyway. He doesn’t think much of it after 10 years, til you move in behind him, and then suddenly it’s not so bad.

warnings: MDNI, John “talk her through it” gentle dom Price, unprotected sex, piv, oral sex (fem receiving), reader is called girl, praise kink, light biting, implied pregnancy, you have a child at the end

w.c.: 5.6k

It’s not often that John finds himself so… distracted. With a job like his, that means certain death.  Never let your head wander. Never let your eyes drift. Stay focused. Ready. Out in the field, your head swivels for a bird like his is and that's a bullet to your temple. Hopefully, the shot kills you right away and doesn’t leave you bleeding on the floor. Slow and painful way to go. Choking on your blood, teammates around you just watching, wishing they’d finish the job, and you wouldn’t have to fade away.

But there’s something about you that’s got him distracted. 

Your garden backs up against his, property lines defined by an old wooden fence that's been there since the 60s. Not much to look at for his side.  He keeps his grass cut short with minimal landscaping. Few large paver stones between the patio and the slab of concrete the hot tub sits. He’s rarely even home to see it. 

The house had been a purchase he felt he had to make when he hit 30. Soap joked it was his midlife crisis since every crisis could be their midlife one. He guessed it gave him a weird sense of normalcy that never sat right. Like shoes that are ever so slightly too tight. They fit, could even fit better if you took the time to stretch them out, but he doesn’t. Told himself it’d be a better fit when he retired. If he got the chance. 

 Now he’s 40, a homeowner for a decade, and it’s barely used, and he’s barely there. Hell, the weekly cleaner and gardener had been there more since he bought it than he had. John’s only ever there when he’s got an extended break between missions, but well and truly, how often is that?

He hadn’t even noticed when the old couple who used to own the end of the terrace house passed away, and you moved in. Meredith and James. It had happened eight months ago, right at the end of autumn. Tells you how much of a good neighbor he is. John didn’t learn about it until April hit, and you came knocking on his door. 

You had a black oversized jumper tucked into some dark wash high-waisted jeans with a big hole on the left knee. Hair held back with a claw clip, brows drawn ever so slightly together. Like you were nervous as you shifted side to side holding a plate of cookies. 

It was one of those gross British spring days where the air starts to get muggy as the sun hits its peak. Past the part of spring where it’s grey and drizzly for weeks straight, the cold still clinging to your bones. 

He’d barely been home for 13 hours. Came in and passed out, only woke up about 20 minutes ago, and turned on the TV in the lounge to listen to the news while he made a late lunch. Still in the groggy headspace of jetlag, but he swore you looked radiant. 

“Hi! I wanted to introduce myself.” You had a soft voice. Gentle. Like you were afraid of spooking him. “Meredith told me that you’re often overseas, and… well, this is the first time I think I’ve seen you home.” You gave him your name and told him you owned the house behind his now. 

John was pleasant for the whole interaction, chatting with you for about 15 minutes before you excused yourself. Smiled and said all the right things like his mum raised him to, still not really all there mentally. Didn’t even really click for him that you shared the fence with him until two days later, he saw you in the garden, taking a hammer to the fence with a mean look on your face. 

Good opportunity for him to be neighborly. 

“You alright?” He’s leaning out the first-floor window, arms resting on the windowsill. 

John didn’t expect you to startle so much, dropping the hammer with a shriek before your head whipped up to him. “Fucking hell you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, love,” he chuckles, “Something wrong with the fence?”

“Yeah,” there's sweat beading down your forehead that you swipe away. He has a wandering thought about licking it off you. “I think the wood’s rotted through. I leaned something against it yesterday and it about gave through.”

Great opportunity for him to get closer to you. 

“I’ll come down and have a look.”

Turns out the wood was rotted through for more than half the fence. The whole thing was one bad wind day away from falling over. John had removed some of the worst parts that day with plans to remove the rest on Tuesday morning. That was until you both got hit with a stop-work order. One of the neighbors had called the council and complained. Something about protecting historic areas, and the boundary of the two properties not being legally defined. Not their place at all, but regardless, neither of you could do anything about it now. 

They did at least let John finish taking the fence down for safety concerns, so the two of you spent that time getting to know each other better. You were 34, worked as a fashion buyer, but you really wanted to be a designer, liked holidays with your girlfriends where you could try new wines, and were perhaps the sweetest bird he’d ever met, hidden behind a layer of fierce sass. 

Then the council told the two of you it’d be another eight to ten weeks for them to assess the new fence and then another three for them to do an impact report on whether it’d require the other fences to be changed. Typical British bureaucracy. The fence was being built in the same way it had looked prior to it being torn down.

But now it meant the two of you shared one big garden. One big, ambiguous green space only defined by how much landscaping you had done and the numerous planters full of growing veggies you had. Not a big deal for him. While he liked his space, a week or two of shared garden wouldn’t kill him. 

Then the pandemic hit and no one was going to approve jack shit or build anything. It was like the council fully vanished, emails going unanswered. 

John had been deployed shortly after the lockdowns were announced and told you to email him if anything important came up with the council. You laughed, told him you would, and followed it up by demanding he stay safe lest you have to deal with a new neighbor and no fence. 

True to your word, you did email him. It was never any updates regarding the fence. Rather, it was you checking in on him and telling him about the local gossip. Turned into penpals. Between bouts of violent warfare, he got to know you, and hell, he’d say you’re bordering on friend territory now, which isn’t a title he gives out often. He tried to be polite and cordial, but the image of you sunbathing never left his mind. 

When he came back 12 weeks later in the dead of night, he climbed into his bed in the primary suite on the third floor and passed out. Bags dropped by the front door, half blocking it from opening. Maybe he was finally getting too old for this. 

 He didn’t wake up until 1 pm, sunshine making the room uncomfortable and hot. He hadn’t programmed the aircon to come on yet. Sweat clung to his back, t-shirt fabric uncomfortably damp, and he pulled himself out of bed.

Trudging to the window, he throws it open in the hopes that the jet stream might bless him with some breeze before he hops into the shower. He might have opened it with more force than needed, hinges creaking, now squinting from how bright the sun was.

Then he saw you. Lounging on a beach chair. 

Now, remembering the lack of fence between the two of you, he didn’t think much of it until he rubbed his eyes as his vision cleared.

You were lying in the chair, sunglasses on as you listened to Jazz House, a staple of yours, he noticed, stretched out supine and basking in the sun. The glint of an anklet was the first thing he noticed before trailing his eyes upwards to your baby blue bikini bottoms and no top. Tits soft and supple in the sun. They shone, covered in what he assumed was tanning oil, jiggling as you raised your arms to cover your eyes. 

If he were a better man, he’d look away. Step back from the window and pretend he never saw anything. Unfortunately, he’s not a better man. John looks on a bit longer, memorizing every inch of your skin, before he walks to the bathroom. 

The shower he takes is ice cold.

It’s a couple of days later, right before the sun starts to wane, the light turning golden, and the squad has shown up for a barbecue. You’ve spoken to him briefly, claiming you’d catch up more when you weren’t so busy. 

Price’s place became the de facto grilling spot a few years back. It was probably the most use it had ever gotten. Helped, he had a big garden, a high-quality grill, and guest rooms for the lads to crash in if they drank too much. 

Ghost and Soap had brought four packs of Carling. Pure shite in his opinion, but Soap was a fan and at the end of day free beer is free beer. John’s on his third can, enjoying the build of a buzz as he stands over the grill flipping kebabs, lamb, and beef with some veg, listening in on a story Ghost is telling him. There’s an old 80s rock playlist one of the lads found on Spotify that’s agreeable enough. Soap and Gaz are wrestling while Ghost intermittently laughs at their attempts to pin each other. 

He almost forgets there’s no fence between your places till you come out bounding over in a short little white dress that scrapes the tops of your thighs, struggling to open a jar of olives. You looked like a goddamn angel. 

“Hey John,” he places the tongs down as you come closer.  “Could you help me open this jar? The girls and I are making martinis, and I can’t seem to—oh. Hello!” 

You’ve crossed the imaginary threshold and are only a few feet away from him as you look up, still trying to open the jar. 

“Take it this is your squad?” Your eyes flick between him and the group of very large men near him. 

“Aye, love,” he motions with his head towards them. “Lads, say hello.”

Like the well-trained dogs they are, a round of “You Alright,” and “Evenin’” rings out. 

You smile and give a small wave. “Sorry, I won’t interrupt for long.” You draw closer to him, holding out the jar with one hand and the other curling around his bicep. “Could you open this? We’re dangerously low on olives, and we’re making martinis.” 

You smell like coconut cream, vanilla, and sunscreen as the tips of your French manicured nails catch on his skin. 

John smiles,  takes the jar, and opens it before sealing it again and passing it to you. You beam up at him, lips shiny with gloss. “There you go, love,” he tries not to look down the front of your dress, but from this angle, it's hard not to. Especially once he notices you’re not wearing a bra.

“Ugh, my hero!” Sighing dramatically, you give his arm another squeeze before holding the jar with both hands. “I’ll bring you a martini as payment. What are you making?”

You’ve leaned across him, pulling your hair to the side as you inspect the grill. From the corner of his eye, he sees Gaz give Soap a nudge. 

“Kebabs.” You lean a bit too far forward and he puts a hand your your waist to steady you. “Have a few steaks to put on if the occasion calls for it.” 

You gasp and smack his chest. Mock betrayal and hurt with a smile. It’s light and playful, and you don’t make any move to get away from his hand on your waist. “Where was my invite?” 

John raises a brow. “You told me you were with the girls tonight.”

“Yes, but if I had known you were grilling I would have told them to sod off.”

One of the boys, surprisingly, Ghost, laughs. It’s a real laugh too, which is a bit mental coming from him. 

“Don’t be cruel to your friends now.” 

“They’d understand,” you’re quick with the reply. “We’re only having martinis and cheese.” 

You do this thing he’s picked up on. Leaning a little too forward and looking up at him through your eyelashes, lips in a slight part. Intentional? Maybe. Innocent? Probably. Dangerous? 100%. It’s the kind of look that gives him pause.  Stabs him in the heart and weasels its way into his bloodstream. Gets his thoughts going a bit too fast.

Makes him wonder what you’d look like with his cock in your mouth. 

“Tell you what,” he offers, clearing his throat. “You go to Tesco and get some more, and your lot can join us.”

“Would you guys mind?” You direct the question to the squad, peaking over John’s shoulder.

Even if they did, with the hunger Price has in his eyes for you, they’d never have said no. There’s an intensity there they’ve only seen in the field, and they aren’t stupid. They can tell that he’s itching to fuck you. He had been glued to his inbox when they were deployed and evasive about answering them about who he was emailing. Easy to put two and two together.

20 minutes and one Tesco Express trip later, you and two of your friends, Joanne and Marcy, had pulled up your two garden chairs to join the men, bringing with you enough martinis for everyone. The three of you go the rounds teasing one another, breaking into fits of giggles, and you all get situated once the food is done cooking. He didn’t expect it, but your friends get on well with his squad. 

Rather than bring one of John's dining room chairs out, you’ve taken to perching on his knee. One arm draped across his shoulders, toying with his shirt, and the other holding a skewer that you pick at in between talking. You’re acting like it's the most natural thing in the world, so he does the same, resting a hand on your knee.

Once the food is done and you girls have moved onto a wine, unmotivated to make more martinis, you get looser. The sun has fully set now, and everyone's been well fed. It's reaching the point where you know that once someone says they’re heading home, everyone will naturally see themselves out, but no one’s making the first move.

He’s painfully hard and every time you wiggle, giggly from the alcohol, your ass brushes against him and makes it worse. Maybe it’s the alcohol getting to him or maybe it’s the pent-up sexual frustration, but when you move again, he can’t help but whisper in your ear, low and slow. “Careful there, love.”

“What do you mean?” Voice soft and teasing as you turn towards him. 

 He likes the sweet and innocent act you put on as you rock back against him. At first, he thought you weren’t aware of it, but now it’s clear you knew.

It’s a quick, sharp breath he draws. “You know exactly what I mean,” John’s lips brush your ear. The low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your core. 

“Hmm…” you rock backward again. “Maybe I need you to spell it out for me?” 

There’s a coy smile on your lips that makes him want to fucking bend you over the table. But he’s barely a gentleman and wouldn’t do that in front of your friends. One hand grabs at your waist, stilling your movements. The tension between the two of you feels electric. You’re hyper-aware of every place his bare skin meets yours. It’s not quite a warning, not quite a promise. Just enough to make you realize he’s barely holding onto his composure.

Joanne laughs loudly, pulling your attention outwards. 

Ever aware, Ghost notices what's transpiring between the two of you and stands. “Right then, time for me to head home.” 

Price watches as Ghost ushers the lads up, and your friends follow. He leads them all to the back door, turning to Price and nodding before heading through himself. You catch the look he gives John as he goes. A subtle little note.

Behave. 

The door shuts and the garden falls quiet. 

Now alone, nerves start creeping through you. Doesn’t help that John doesn’t move. He sits there for a minute, hands on your waist, thumbs brushing at the fabric of your dress. You’re 99.99% sure that he wants the same thing you do, but god forbid a girl feels nervous. Feels like your heart is loud enough he could hear it as well as he felt it through your clothes. 

He exhales, slow and controlled. 

Then, his grip tightens on your waist. 

“Nervous?” he noses at your shoulder, mustache tickling slightly. His voice is low and rough, like he recently smoked a cigar. 

You nod, small and shy. “A bit.”

John hums, happy he has that effect on you. Almost like he’s purring. One of his hands slides up your front, brushing past your tits, before settling on your jaw and turning your face towards him. The look in his eyes is one you’ve never seen before. It goes beyond hunger, he’s starving. 

“Don’t be.”

You crash into him. The kiss is heavy, all-consuming, and leaves you lightheaded. John’s hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers enmeshing themselves in your hair, tilting you as he sees fit. His other hand roams your body, grabbing your breast and squeezing it. You moan, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him. 

When you break apart, panting slightly and leaning back against him, you giggle as he presses open-mouthed kisses against your exposed neck and shoulder. “Been thinking about this for a while, pretty girl.”

He lets go of your hair to pick you up at the waist and reposition you better on his lap. “Thinking about ‘ow pretty you’d sing for me.” John settles his hands on your hips now. “‘Ow sweet you’d taste.” 

Strong hands pull your hips back before pushing them forward. It goes to your head a bit, and you're stunned as he repeats the motion.

“Don’t be shy now. Had no problem doing this earlier, did you?” 

“No,” you stuttered out, grinding your hips down as instructed. 

“That’s a sweet girl,” he continues to guide your hips. 

Each bump and grind pulls you further and further into a corner of debauchery you thought you left behind in your 20s. It sends waves of pleasure through your body. John’s hands grip you tighter, driving you into a steady rhythm with him. His erection strains against his shorts. 

“That’s it,” he growls. “Just like that, love.”

Your breath is short gasps drawn in a haze as the friction builds, panties soaked and clinging to your folds. Price’s lips find your neck again, pressing more hot kisses to the strip of flesh. Feels like you’re burning up as his teeth graze your pulse point, and you whimper. 

“John,” you plead. For what you aren’t sure. 

He takes his hands off your hips to push the straps of your dress off your shoulders. It falls softly off them, exposing your tits, nipples hard. John tweaks one, rolling it between his fingers, and your head falls forward with a soft cry. You don’t stop moving your hips, lost in the feeling as he continues to palm your chest. He cups them, kneading them as you continue to rock your hips.

“Love… Sweet girl,” he bucks his hips up to meet yours, grinding himself against your aching core. “Tell me you want this and I’ll take you inside and give you what you’re begging for.”

“I want it,” you stutter out. “Please, John.”

His grip on your breasts tightens. “That’s it.” He stands, picking you up bridal style in one fluid motion, your body pressed firmly against his chest. The night air is cool as it hits your bare breasts. John is swift as he takes you inside, closing the door with his foot as he brings you into the lounge. He knows he doesn’t want to make the trek upstairs yet. He’s gotta fuck you on the couch before he takes you upstairs and fucks you in his bed or he might burst at the seams and fuck you like a wild animal. 

Price deposits you on the chaise part of his sectional so he can lay you out as you pull your dress off, leaving you in your panties. You look goddamn delectable. 

He pulls off his shirt and shorts, leaving himself in his boxer briefs as he moves towards you. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling your leg up and pushing you onto your back. John kisses your ankle and drops your leg, before he grabs the waistband of your panties and pulls them off you.

“Look at this,” he brings your panties up. The white’s gone transparent in the light. “Soaked through.”

Price gets down on his knees and pulls your pussy towards him. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt. Just look at you. So wet and ready for me.”

He runs a finger through your core, chuckling with a full smile as his finger comes back glistening. Parting his lips, he brings it to his mouth and moans at the taste, watching as it makes you wiggle in anticipation. “Delicious. You going to be good for me and let me eat you out?” 

You nod diligently. Submission looks good on you. 

His hands grip your thigh, pushing them further apart as he settles between them. He leans forward, presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, and then drags his tongue against you in one long, smooth stripe. The groan he lets out comes from deep inside him, echoing in the hollow of his chest. And he buries himself in your pussy. 

He focuses in on your slit, sensitive from the lead up and circles it with the tip of his tongue. John sucks it into his mouth, passing his tongue over it. Your hips buck, jagged, and stuttered as he does. It feels like he’s got you on display, and the rapt attention goes to your head. Each pass of his tongue pulls you closer and closer to the edge as he devours you. 

A finger prods at your hole, sliding in with no resistance. He pumps it in and out, warming you up, before adding a second. The sound of his filthy slurps and your moans fill the room as he pumps in and out of you, angling his fingers to bump your G-spot. It's obscene. You’re so wet it sounds like the set of a porno. 

John wants nothing more than to consume you. Wants to watch you come on his tongue and clench down on his fingers. He can feel your body tensing, muscles pulling tight as your climax draws nearer. Your hands fly to his head, pulling on his short hair, as you grind your pussy against his face, and Price moans. 

“Sweet girl, cum for me.” He pulls away for a second to speak before going right back to working you to a fever pitch.

“John,” it comes out as a broken gasp. “I’m gonna cum.”

He hums in approval, and it sends you over the edge. Your clamp down around his fingers like a vice, and it washes over you. Price doesn’t let up, doesn't stop. He continues to pump his fingers at the same steady pace, extending your orgasm. Your nails dig into his scalp, spurring him on as he sucks on your clit harder. 

John can feel your juices gushing out, getting caught in his facial hair, and soaking the couch. He wants to break you, make you fall apart completely, to build you back up with the knowledge that there’ll never be another man like him. So you keep wearing those tiny little dresses around him. You’re pushing at his head now, and he takes his mouth off you with a wet pop. When you lock eyes with him, you whimper.

“Fucking gorgeous love. Prettiest I’ve ever seen.” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your clit, making you twitch from sensitivity. “You want more?”

“I want you to fuck me,” it’s a breathy whisper as you come down from your high and he swears he’s never heard something so erotic before in his entire life.

John remembers that he hasn’t had a hook-up in years and that there are no condoms in the house. “I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable, but I don’t have any condoms.”

You’ve scrambled up from your back.  Propping yourself up on your knees, chest resting on the back of the couch. 

“I don’t care,” the way the eye contact you make with him from over your shoulder makes him feel should be criminal. “Fuck me.”

He stands up, left knee popping from an old injury, and he looms over you. Big, beefy frame taking up all the space behind you. John reaches down and pulls down his boxer briefs. It’s not lost on him how you lock in on his erection as it bobs up and makes a soft plap against his stomach. His cock is thick, probably the thickest you’ve ever had, with an angry red swollen head leaking pre-cum.

Price grips your hips, pulls them closer to him, and deepens the arch in your back as he settles between your spread thighs again. The thick length on him meet your slit. He gives an experimental thrust, grinding himself against you and coating himself in you. 

“You’re a dangerous one, aren’t you?” John quips, reaching down and grabbing his cock to line up with your entrance. His head catches, pushing ever so slightly in, but not enough. 

At this, you push your hips back, pushing more of his length inside you, and the stretch is delicious. He’s prepped you so well that there’s not even an ounce of discomfort— the sweet growing feeling of being full. 

“Worst criminal you’ll ever meet,” you hum, pushing back further. “Show me the error of my ways?” 

The teasing lilt gives John the encouragement he needs to let go and fully enjoy this and finally he thrust forward, sinking himself fully inside your drooling cunt. He pulls out to the tip and then buries himself to the hilt. 

“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained as your walls flutter around him. “Tight ‘n’ warm cunt made for me.”

Price sets a steady pace with long, full strokes. Skin meeting skin fills the room as you meet his thrusts. He leans down, breath hot against your shoulder as he kisses your shoulder, relishing in your soft pants before biting the skin. It makes you tighten around him as a sharp moan breaks through. 

One hand slides around your hips to your front where he finds your clit and starts rubbing it in tight circles. His voice is low in your ear. “That’s it, love, can feel you getting tighter ‘round me.”

He punctuates each word with a deep thrust. 

“Such a sweet girl, been so welcoming for me. Taking it like you were made for it.”

The praise makes you dizzy, your head falling forward on the couch. He’s quick to wrap his other arm around your chest and pulls you upright, flush against his chest. The new angle lets him push even deeper inside you while he continues to play with your clit, your orgasm quickly building.

“Christ, you’re like the gift that doesn’t stop.” Sparks of pleasure shoot through you as he bites the shell of your ear. “Feel how deep I am inside you? How your tight little pussy clings to me?” 

Price kisses along your jawline, beard scraping your skin. “Can tell you’re close. Cum for me love. Want to feel you cum on my cock.” 

Your skin feels prickly. Like you’re too hot and too cold at the same time.

“That’s it, dove. Let it happen,” he urges you on, letting your chest rest back on the couch and cementing his hold on your hips. “So sweet for me.”

And you let it happen. It’s slow and builds itself up, and he continues to thrust up into you til it reaches a fever pitch that makes your whole body shake and writhe. The loudest moan you've ever let out comes past your lips, your fingers digging into the couch cushions. 

“That’s my girl,” he growls, thrusting faster. “Tell me where you want me.”

It’s hard to speak as he doesn’t let up. 

“Inside.” 

“What was that?” John teases you, bending down like he can’t hear you. 

“Inside, I want it inside,” you cry out. 

John’s happy to oblige, rutting into you like a wild animal. His thrusts are harder than before, your ass jiggling everytime his hips meet yours with wet paps. The force rocks your entire body, and all you can do is take it. With a final thrust, he sinks all the way inside you, cock pulsing. Ropes of hot cum fill your insides and it feels like the world goes blurry and you aren’t sure what happens next.

You’re groggy when he gets you to come to. A lazy, satisfied smile spreads across your face when you’re able to focus on him. He’s got a warm washcloth and is cleaning you up. He’s so soft and gentle as he goes, kissing your knee. The room is quiet, filled with an intimacy that feels far too real, like something between lovers, for the first time you’ve slept with him.

“You alright?” He asks, his tone is tender and soft.  The look in his eyes is so tender, like you carry the moon and stars. It tugs at your heart and nestles itself in your chest next to it.

You nod, still a little dazed, still in the afterglow of a really good orgasm. “I’m good. Really good.”

That smile he has makes you clench. “Want to take me upstairs and fuck me on a real bed?”

John laughs a full belly laugh. “Bossy woman, you are.” 

The complaint is one of nothing but jest. A barking dog with no bite. He’s already picked you up and crossed the threshold to the stairs and starts heading up then. 

────────────────────※ ·❆· ※──────────────────

TWO YEARS LATER…

It’s another sunny Saturday, so everyone's once again at the Price household for a barbecue. Feels routine at this point. You’re in the kitchen finishing up a cheese board and drinks, he's out at the grill. The lads are doing what they always do, except now, Soap is doing it to impress Joanne. She sits on one of the now-plentiful outdoor chairs and pretends not to be impressed. Mundane and peaceful. Not something he thought he’d ever experience. 

Marcy opens the back door and comes out with the cheese board. You’re trailing behind her with a fat nine-month-old on your hip. Rhys, named after John’s very Welsh grandfather, takes after his father and is perhaps the biggest baby anyone's ever seen. He’s also an incredibly happy baby. 

The second John sees you’ve come outside, he's placed the tongs down to come kiss you. Every morning he’s not on base, he wakes up next to you, but he still can’t believe it’s real. Rhys starts babbling excitedly as he walks closer. Price bends down to press a kiss to his head before kissing you. 

“Your son is heavy,” you shift, hiking Rhys up to get a better seat on your hip, and look at him. “You get that from your daddy.” 

You boop him on the nose, and the baby erupts into a fit of giggles. 

“You calling me fat, dove?” 

“One of us was the biggest baby in the county history when we were born, and the other one is mummy, isn’t that right, Rhys?” You attack Rhys’ cheeks with kisses, giggles continuing from the little boy. He’s losing it now, little hands grabbing at your face as he squirms and wiggles.

John can’t argue with the facts. He was the biggest baby, still to this day, to have been born in his home county. So he smiles, kisses both of you again, and goes back to grilling. 

The meal is how it often is. Loud and full of laughter. Plates passed around, drinks passed around, Rhys passed from person to person. The sun is warm on everyone's skin with the scent of sunscreen hanging in the air. 

In the lull between bites, Gaz pipes up.“Are you two ever going to fix the fence?”

Everyone's head swivels to the back of the property, fence fully gone, where they can see clearly into the other lounge. It’s covered in baby toys and fashion mannequins. It’s the smaller of the two houses, so when you got married, it turned into your studio to work on your brand.  

You giggle, sipping from your glass. “Ah, right.”

Rhys slaps the table, the glass making little hollow sounds. 

John looks out fondly at your back door before facing you. Fuck the fence.

It can stay down.

©️ uzuzrimisery

thank you cas for beta reading :)

[unluckilyimnot]

Hihi!!^^ Could you please make a bllk and/or bonten hc where she has a friend who always tries to one-up her to get her bf?

You can include all the characters you like and if you do, have fun writing it!!^^

Friend trying to win your bf over/talking shit behind your back

Characters: rindou, ran, mikey, chifuyu, wakasa,

Note : Hiii! Thank you sm for this request! I hope I did it well and you'll like it ! I did both bllk and tr but I'll do it for more fandom I write for bc I like it lslsls like genshin and windbreaker

Tell me if anyone want one with a character in particular (hc / one shot...)

Bllk ver.

m.list | rules

Rindou

Acts sarcastic around her all the time

Fake being interested then stop listening and ignore her

"Is that so ?" With a eyebrow lift and his face unbothered

He wants her to feel bad and like shit, seek attention she'll never have because he's more busy with anything else than her

He wants to feel 10 time worse than what she tried to make you feel

He's mean about it, giving her false hopes

But he never hides it from you, you know it all and honestly you're the one feeling bad for her

He has to remind you himself the shitty friend she is and that she deserves it

Ran

He's not that mean, he knows you like her dearly and does his best to not sighs when she talks

No needs to say that from the start he doesn't really like her

But when she starts talking shit about you behind your back, with him around ? He really got that she was on another planet

It got worse when she speaks to him directly, how she put herself above you, with a fake empathic smile

"Weird way to flirt with a taken guy, talking shit about his girlfriend"

He sounds unbothered but his eyes are cold while he drinks

He probably drink it in one shot and move back to you and tells you

Wakasa

Younger Wakasa would've probably killed her on spot

Older him is more composed, but not without thinking the same

He feels you tensed when she starts speaking about your common dance class, his arm tighten around your shoulders, as if he was asking what's up

His eyes turn cold when she ask him how bad you were at it after he came once

"Excuse me ?"

She sits up straight and, sadly, couldn't turn her gaze away from her when she wishes she had

"I think you're the only one remembering it that way."

He's not joking around when it comes to you, and she for sure regretting it when everyone stopped listening to her around the table

Chifuyu

He's silly and kind, it's good to be around him you get that and all your friends feel safe around him for this reason

But you never expect to one of them to turned it against you when he's just nice and making sure they're safe

You're choked the first time you heard her talking like this about you while you were go for a few minutes, with him sitting next to her

"I've never noticed though, I have no idea what you're talking about"

He plays dumb but you can tell in his voice is not joking around anymore

She's doesn't insist when you came back, but he makes sure to mention it so you can defend yourself

And when everyone take your side you felt slightly better, even more with him taking your defense without hesitation

Mikey

That's the worst idea anyone can have

Mikey thinks so highly about you, maybe a bit too much but that makes him your number one supporter

Looking down on you to try to win him over is the dumbest thing to do

He's quick to react, the second she pushed you down to her up, his eyes are on her and he's moving closer

"Talk shit about my gf one more time, I dare you"

He doesn't do anything else, doesn't touch her but that's because he respects woman and don't fight people who can't defend themselves

Or else he would've hit her in the face

"Get out while I'm still being friendly"

No need to say you never heard of her again

[nylqnder]

FALLING FOR YOU WILL SMITH

pairing: will smith x marleau!daughter!reader

summary: a visit to the guest house, in an attempt to comfort will after a grueling loss, brings you two closer together than ever.

warnings: friends to lovers, pretty detailed make out scene, talks of being insecure

wc: 2.02k

notes: !!IMPORTANT!! i absolutely do not agree with the politics of the marleau family, they are simply being used as a plot device in this. pretend for the sake of this that the family are not bigots.

The house is silent except for the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of old wood settling in the night. Shadows stretch long and languid across the hallway, cast by the dim glow of the streetlamp filtering through the curtains. You move with practiced stealth, each step careful. Years of navigating this house have taught you exactly which floorboards creak under a footstep, which door hinges squeak in protest when nudged too far. Even still, your breath stills in your chest as you slip past your parent's bedroom door, past your brothers' rooms, your heart beating a steady rhythm of anticipation. The guest house isn’t far — just across the backyard — but trying to tiptoe in absolute silence past your parents' bedroom door and past your brothers' doors makes it feel like an eternity away.

Will had looked wrecked when he came home. The Sharks game had been brutal, a 7-2 loss to Florida, and not even his highlight-reel goal could shift the dejection that settled over him like a heavy coat. You saw it in his posture the moment he stepped off the rink: the slump of his shoulders, the tight line of his mouth, the way he avoided the gaze of everyone in the locker room. You had seen it in the post-game debrief he always did with your dad, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against his thigh. You didn’t have to ask to know what was running through his mind. You felt like you knew his thoughts as though they were your own.

It wasn’t always like this. When Will first moved in, things had been awkward. He was polite — too polite. He made his bed with military precision, thanked your mom after every meal, and practically sprinted out of the room whenever he sensed he might be intruding on family time. You weren’t sure if it was out of respect or if he was just trying to survive in an unfamiliar house. Either way, it took weeks before he loosened up, before the sharp edges of his formality softened into something more comfortable.

Somewhere along the way, he had become your closest friend. He was the person you whispered late-night confessions to, the one who could tell when you needed someone to listen rather than someone to talk. And it went both ways. You had spent hours sprawled across the couch in the guest house, talking about everything and nothing. You told him about school, about how you weren’t sure if biology was what you actually wanted to study. It was supposed to be the safe, responsible choice, the thing that made sense. But the more you immersed yourself in it, the more it felt like wearing a sweater that didn’t quite fit. He listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel like you weren’t overthinking things. And in return, he let you see the parts of himself he hid from the world.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he had admitted one night, voice rough with exhaustion. “I mean, I know what I should be doing. I know what’s expected of me. But every time we lose, every time I don’t produce, it feels like — I don’t know. Like I’m letting everyone down.”

You had seen the articles, heard the analysts questioning whether he was adjusting well enough to the NHL, whether he was living up to expectations. You knew he heard them, too, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise.

Will knew he was living with Patrick Marleau so he could be moulded into a better player, something like what the Sharks legend once was. But some nights, it felt like you had done more for Will than your father ever had.

The guest house is dark except for the thin sliver of light spilling beneath the door. You knock, softly. A pause. Then the rustling of movement before the door swings open, revealing Will standing in the dim glow of the lamp inside. His hair is damp from a shower, curling at the edges, and he’s wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you, surprise flickering across his face before he steps aside to let you in.

“You should be asleep,” he says, voice rough with exhaustion.

“So should you.” You cross the room, your socked feet near silent against the hardwood. “But we both know that’s not happening.”

He exhales, a ghost of a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. He collapses onto the couch, the television murmuring in the background showing a post-game analysis droning on about the Sharks’ mistakes. He doesn’t mute it, but his focus is entirely on you as you settle beside him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

The room is heavy with unspoken words, the kind that settles in the air and refuses to dissipate. Will’s eyes flick to the television, then back to you, his jaw tight.

“Tough game,” you say softly.

Will’s jaw tightens. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I know I played like shit.”

You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “I don’t think you did.”

Will shakes his head, eyes dark with frustration. “We lost by five. Doesn’t matter if I scored, doesn’t matter if I had the best shift of my life. We still lost.”

Your heart clenches. “Will, the team is rebuilding. You knew that coming in.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think I’d be a part of the problem.”

“You’re not.”

He shakes his head, jaw tight. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he leans back, tilting his head against the couch cushions, eyes slipping shut. His breathing evens out, slow and measured, but the tension in his shoulders doesn’t fade.

You shift slightly, resting your chin on your knees. “You’re a rookie in the NHL. You’re playing against the best in the world every night. No one expects you to carry this team, least of all yourself.”

He scoffs but doesn’t argue. “You’re getting better every game,” you continue, voice gentle but firm. “And the guys in that locker room? They know that. This season isn’t about wins, it’s about building something. And you’re a part of that foundation.”

Will lifts his head and shifts slightly, angling his body toward you. His eyes search yours, dark and unreadable. “How do you always know what to say?”

You shrug, offering a small smile. “I pay attention.”

A beat of silence. Then you notice it — the way his gaze lingers on your face, tracing over your features with something heavy and intent. You suddenly feel warm, hyper-aware of the fact that he’s shirtless, toned torso on full display, and the way his breathing has changed, now slightly uneven.

“What?” you ask, your own voice quieter now.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his tongue flicks out, wetting his lips, and his head tilts slightly. His gaze lingers, sweeping over your face with an intensity that makes your pulse stutter. The air between you shifts, thickens, as if something unspoken has settled into the space, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Will,” you say softly, trying to decipher the look in his eyes. “What?”

He exhales slowly, shaking his head with a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Spell what out?”

His eyes darken, and his fingers twitch slightly where they rest against his thigh. He leans in just enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the heat radiating off his skin, the scent of clean soap and something undeniably him.

“You know I want you.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. Your lips part slightly, but no sound comes out. He watches you, waiting, giving you a moment to react, to pull away if you want to. But you don’t. You can’t.

Because you want him too.

The realization hits you with startling clarity, and before you can second-guess it, you close the space between you. It’s tentative at first, a brush of lips, a question unspoken. But the moment his mouth moves against yours, the hesitation dissolves. His hand comes up, cupping the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheekbone as he deepens the kiss.

Your fingers settle against his bare shoulders, the warmth of his skin beneath your touch making your head spin. He kisses you like he’s been waiting for this, like he’s thought about it just as much as you have. There’s something desperate in the way he pulls you closer, something that tells you he’s afraid this might not be real.

You pull back just enough to whisper against his lips, “Will.”

His forehead rests against yours, his breathing uneven. “Yeah?”

Your heart hammers against your ribs. “I want you too.”

His breath hitches, and then he’s kissing you again, slow and deep, like he wants to memorize the shape of your mouth against his. Will pulls away, but barely, his eyes searching yours.

“You sure about this?” Will’s voice is rough, barely more than a whisper, his breath mingling with yours in the space between you.

You nod, barely, but it’s enough. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes. He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time, and then he’s kissing you again. This time, there’s nothing hesitant about it. It’s deep and slow and intoxicating, like he’s savoring every second, like he’s afraid to rush something he’s wanted for so long.

His hands find your waist, warm and firm, fingers flexing as if grounding himself in the moment. You shift instinctively, moving closer until your knees are brushing his solid thigh, until there’s no space left between you. Your hands slide over his shoulders, tracing down to his chest, resting on him as you lean closer. He shivers under your cold fingers, just barely, and the realization that you affect him just as much as he affects you sends a thrill through your veins.

Will’s hands move down to the backs of your thighs, pulling you into his lap in one fluid motion, his strength effortless. You let out a surprised gasp, breaking the kiss for just a second, but his hands splayed against your back, holding you close. He grins, eyes dark with something wickedly fond.

“Better?” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement.

Your lips curl into a grin, but your heart is racing. “Shut up.”

His laughter is quiet, a vibration against your chest, but it fades as his gaze dips to your lips again. He kisses you like he means it, like he’s wanted to do this forever. His hands trace slow, soothing patterns against your back, anchoring you to him.

The television drones on in the background, forgotten, the post-game analysis long past. The only thing that exists at this moment is the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his hands cradle your face like you’re something precious. He kisses you with an aching sort of tenderness like he’s memorizing you, like he never wants to forget what this feels like.

When he finally pulls back, just enough to look at you properly, his expression is unreadable — something caught between wonder and disbelief. He exhales a quiet, breathy laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he admits, voice rough with emotion.

You run your fingers through his hair, smoothing the damp curls away from his forehead. “I can.”

Will's lips curve into a slow, lopsided smile, something soft and unguarded. His fingers trace lazy patterns against your back, like he’s committing the moment to memory.

“Yeah?” he murmurs.

You nod, brushing your nose against his. “Yeah.”

For the first time all night, the weight of the loss seems to ease off his shoulders. He exhales, a quiet, content sound, and lets his forehead rest against yours.

“Stay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. “With me… tonight?”

You don’t hesitate. “Always.”

And as he pulls you closer, the Sharks' loss feels like a distant memory — because for once, in this tiny, quiet moment, Will Smith isn’t thinking about hockey at all.

[dior-luxury]

Pretending You Didn't Know Their Birthday Was Today

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff/drama - no prns .

- [𝐜𝐡.] deuce . ruggie . jade . floyd . epel

- [𝐩:𝐬] Mild emotional distress . Romantic themes . Light teasing/pranks .

Note: This is such a mean prank to do on them guys (ﾉД`) But yk me, I LOVEEE writing drama (; ω ; ).

Deuce Spade

At first, Deuce tried not to take it personally.

You had been acting totally normal all day—sweet, attentive, just like always—but… that was the thing. Just normal. Not a single “Happy Birthday” from you. Not a cupcake, not a “Hey, wanna do something later?” Nothing. And at breakfast, when Ace loudly tossed Deuce a small box and yelled “Happy birthday, dumbass!”, you just… smiled politely and went back to your juice.

He told himself you probably had something planned. That maybe you were just being subtle. But as the hours passed, his confidence started to crumble.

By mid-afternoon, he couldn’t even focus in class. Every time he looked your way, his stomach did this weird, anxious twist. Maybe you were mad at him? Maybe he’d forgotten something important? No… your smile didn’t look fake. You laughed at his jokes. You walked to class with him like usual. But still—nothing.

By the time lunch rolled around, he couldn’t take it anymore.

You were sitting together under a shady tree in the courtyard, sharing fries from a bag. He stared down at his lap, fingers fidgeting, his voice awkward and small.

“H-Hey… um… did you… maybe forget what today is?”

You blinked at him, biting into a fry. “Hmm? Oh… is something happening today?”

The color drained from his face.

“…O-Oh. No. Never mind. I just thought—no, forget it,” he said, trying to hide the flash of hurt in his eyes. His posture stiffened, clearly trying to pretend like he didn’t care, but it was so obvious he did.

And that’s when you pulled out the surprise.

From your bag, you retrieved a small, neatly wrapped box and set it in his lap. “You’re so easy to mess with, Deuce. Happy Birthday, baby.”

He stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it.

“…You knew?!”

You giggled as he turned bright red, torn between relief, embarrassment, and this ridiculously bashful happiness. “Of course I knew. You really thought I’d forget my favorite person’s birthday?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, still stunned. “I… I thought I messed something up. Man, you’re evil for that,” he said with a pout, even though he looked like he wanted to hug you and never let go.

Later that night, you surprised him again with a little party in Ramshackle with his closest friends and a handmade cake. And as he sat beside you, eating your lopsided but delicious creation, he leaned close and whispered in your ear:

“You scared the hell outta me today. But… that just makes this even better. Thanks, babe.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie had been dropping hints for weeks.

Not because he expected much—he never really did on his birthday—but because the idea of you remembering something special about him… it made his chest feel warm.

So when his birthday finally came around, and you—the one person he thought would for sure say something—didn’t, he didn’t know how to take it.

The sun had barely risen when he bounced into your dorm with a grin. “Mornin’, babe! Sleep well?”

You nodded, still wrapped in a blanket burrito. “Mmhm. Wanna grab breakfast in the cafeteria?”

“…That’s it?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

You looked at him, head tilted. “What?”

“Nothin’, nothin’,” he said with a wave of his hand, brushing it off with a chuckle. “Just thought maybe you had somethin’ special planned for today. Like… a surprise churro. Y’know. For, uh… no reason at all.”

You blinked innocently. “Why would I do that?”

“…No reason,” he muttered, a little too fast.

As the day went on, he kept waiting for something. A “Happy Birthday!” A present. A note in his bag. Anything. But there was nothing.

At some point, he began to seriously wonder if you just… didn’t care.

That stung more than he wanted to admit.

By evening, he sulked into his dorm, only to find you waiting inside with a bright grin, his favorite snacks on the bed, and a banner that read Happy Birthday, Hyena Boy!

He froze in the doorway. “Wh-What the—?! You knew?!”

You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “Of course I did, silly. You’ve been hinting at it all month. I just wanted to mess with you a little.”

“Jeez, and here I thought I was bein’ subtle…” He rubbed his temples, a smile cracking through his flustered expression. “You little sneak. I almost cried in the middle of laundry duty.”

“Aww, don’t worry. You can cry now—in happiness!”

“Pfft, yeah right,” he scoffed, turning away dramatically… only to spin around and tackle-hug you onto the bed. “Okay, maybe just a little happy cry. Maybe. Don’t look too closely.”

That night, as you both lounged on the bed sharing snacks and laughter, he kissed your cheek and mumbled, “No one’s ever done something like this for me before… Thank you, babe. Seriously.”

And just like that, all the teasing in the world couldn’t hide how much he really appreciated it.

Jade Leech

Jade is not the type to let his emotions slip so easily.

So when the morning of his birthday came and you greeted him with your usual serene smile and a sweet "Good morning, Jade~," he returned it effortlessly—mask flawless, voice calm. But the second you walked away without even a hint of birthday acknowledgment, he blinked once… and a curious smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

How… intriguing.

He didn’t say anything. Not then. Not at lunch, either, when you asked if he wanted to go herb-hunting later like it was any other day. Not even when you kissed his cheek in the hallway and said “See you after class!”

But every time you looked away, he was watching you. Observing you in the same way a predator watches prey, fascinated and a little amused. The wheels in his mind were turning.

You had to know, didn’t you?

…Or did you forget?

He couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t nervous. You weren’t acting strange. No subtle glances, no hidden smiles. Your performance was suspiciously perfect—which only made this more entertaining for him.

By the time evening fell, Jade accompanied you into the Mostro Lounge for "a quick drink," following along with that same soft smile on his face. You chatted like always, sat in your usual booth, sipping tea. Nothing seemed different.

Until the lights dimmed.

And Azul’s voice came over the mic—“Happy Birthday to Jade Leech”—and a cake was brought out, decorated with ocean-themed shells and pearls, your handwriting proudly scrawled across the fondant.

And that’s when Jade laughed.

Not a quiet chuckle. A genuine laugh, melodic and laced with amusement. He turned to you with sharp but delighted eyes.

“Oh my. So you did remember.”

You gave him an innocent blink. “What? Of course I remembered. I was just having fun watching you squirm a little.”

He placed a hand over his chest, mock-wounded. “Me? Squirm? Dearest, I was merely observing your fascinating acting skills. Though I must admit… I nearly believed you forgot.”

You smirked. “Then the plan worked.”

Jade leaned in closer, his voice a silky whisper near your ear. “You’re quite the mischievous little eel, aren’t you? I might have to return the favor someday…”

And though he wore that ever-pleasant smile the rest of the night, you could tell—underneath it, Jade was thrilled. Not just because you remembered, but because you played his game so well.

Floyd Leech

Floyd was hyped for his birthday.

He didn’t say it out loud, but everyone could tell. He was unusually bouncy that morning—tossing students over his shoulder with more enthusiasm than usual, humming a weird little tune while walking to class. Even Azul was keeping a safe distance.

So when he spotted you coming down the hallway, his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

“Shrimpyyyy~!!” he beamed, immediately throwing his long arms around you in a tight squeeze. “Guess what day it isss?”

You blinked, looking puzzled. “Umm… Tuesday?”

He froze.

You tilted your head. “Why? Is something happening today?”

His arms slowly dropped away. His smile faltered. “…You serious?”

You gave him your most convincing innocent look. “Did I miss something?”

“…You serious?!”

Now he looked genuinely offended—like someone had just told him there were no snacks left in the vending machine. “You forgot my birthday? My own girlfriend?! What kinda low-tide tragedy is this?!”

He slumped dramatically over your shoulder like a dying fish. “Shrimpy doesn’t love me anymoreee~ I’m gonna cry…”

“Floyd—”

“No, no, don’t talk to me! I’m gonna go sulk and punch a wall or something…”

And off he went, dramatically dragging his feet down the hall.

…Only for you to text him twenty minutes later with “Emergency in the Lounge. Come quick.”

He came stomping in like a storm cloud, pout still fresh on his face—until the moment he saw the room.

Balloons. Streamers. A giant cake shaped like a sea turtle. And you, standing in the center with a party horn in your mouth, grinning.

“Happy birthday, big guy~”

His mouth opened. Then closed.

“…You LIAR!” he laughed, bolting forward and sweeping you off the ground in a bone-crushing hug. “You tricked me, shrimpy! That was so mean!”

“You deserved it,” you giggled, arms wrapped around his neck. “I had to keep you on your toes somehow.”

Floyd nuzzled into your hair, tail practically wagging. “I was this close to crying real tears! You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He spent the rest of the night showing off to everyone, dragging you around and introducing you like you were the best gift of all. And before bed, he curled up beside you with a satisfied little sigh.

“You’re lucky I love ya, shrimpy. Next year, I’m pranking you. Hardcore.”

Epel Felmier

Epel didn’t like to make a big fuss over his birthday.

He wasn’t the type to announce it to the world, parade around the dorm, or demand gifts. Still… he was kind of hoping you’d remember. Just a simple “Happy birthday” from you would’ve meant everything. He didn’t want something fancy—just… you.

So when the day arrived and you didn’t say anything, he tried to play it cool.

Tried.

“‘Mornin’, sugar~!” he greeted with a bright grin, brushing his hair behind his ear the way you liked.

“Mornin’, Epel!” you chirped back casually, linking your arm with his as you both walked down the hall.

He waited. One second. Two.

Nothing.

“…Anything special goin’ on today?” he asked, trying to act nonchalant.

You blinked. “Uhh, I don’t think so. It’s Tuesday. Why?”

He felt his heart sink a little.

“…No reason,” he mumbled, gaze flicking away. “Just… felt like today was s’posed to be important or somethin’.”

You tilted your head. “Did I forget a test?”

Epel forced a smile. “Nah, nah… forget it.”

But he didn’t forget it.

All day, he kept sneaking glances at you, silently hoping you were just pulling his leg. Maybe you'd jump out with a cake or tackle-hug him and yell, “Surprise!” But each hour that passed without so much as a cupcake made that hope dim a little more.

He tried to laugh it off with his friends. “Guess I ain’t worth rememberin’, huh?” he joked, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

By the time the sun dipped behind the walls of NRC, he had retreated to his room, lying face-down on his bed, arms folded beneath his head.

“…It’s fine,” he muttered to himself. “Ain’t a big deal. Birthdays’re for kids anyway. I ain’t soft.”

But just as he was wallowing in his disappointment, there was a knock at his door.

“…Epel?” your voice called softly from the other side. “Can you come with me for a sec?”

He rolled over, groaning a little. “Not really in the mood, darlin’.”

“Please?”

He sighed. “Fine…”

You led him outside Ramshackle—under the stars—into the courtyard where the fountain glowed soft gold. And that’s when he saw it.

Fairy lights strung up between trees. A little picnic blanket with two slices of apple pie and warm cider. A small, wrapped box sitting atop a folded note with his name written in your handwriting.

“…You didn’t forget,” he whispered.

You turned to him with a gentle smile, a flicker of mischief in your eyes. “Course not. I just wanted to see your pouty face. You’re so cute when you sulk.”

He gawked at you, cheeks burning red. “Y-you—! Ugh, I oughta put you over my shoulder and shake the mischief outta you!”

You laughed and took his hands, pulling him toward the little setup. “Happy birthday, Epel. I love you.”

The tension melted from his shoulders all at once. He dropped down beside you, arms wrapping tight around your waist as he buried his face into your shoulder.

“Dang it… You really got me,” he muttered, voice muffled. “Thought you forgot. Thought I didn’t matter…”

“You matter to me every single day,” you whispered back. “Today’s just an excuse to prove it.”

And under the starlight, as you fed him a bite of pie and leaned on his shoulder, Epel couldn’t stop grinning. He might not be the kind to shout it from the rooftops, but tonight—he felt special. Loved. Yours.

“…Next year, I’m gettin’ ya back for this, y’know,” he said with a playful smirk. “Hard.”