#this is like such a long shot but whatever

[chosok-amo]

THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.

warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.

the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.

they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.

the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.

“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.

gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”

“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”

toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.

gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”

geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”

toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”

there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”

toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.

“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.

the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.

sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”

but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.

“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.

“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.

“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”

the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.

gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”

geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.

sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.

“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”

the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.

gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.

toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.

it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.

today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.

“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.

you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.

but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.

“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”

you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.

his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”

his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.

you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”

his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.

he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.

you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.

you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”

his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.

gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.

“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”

he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.

and that’s where you are . . .

gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.

“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.

he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.

gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.

his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.

“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.

you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.

“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”

despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”

his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.

gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”

with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”

the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.

“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”

despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.

gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.

you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.

“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”

“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.

gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.

he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.

but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”

you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.

“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.

gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.

“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.

“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.

gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.

“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.

gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.

“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.

“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.

you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.

as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.

next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.

gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.

“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.

with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.

“perfect.”

gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.

without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.

you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.

“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.

gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”

gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”

his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.

“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.

“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.

“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.

gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.

“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.

you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.

when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."

his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.

gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.

with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.

slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.

“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.

you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.

gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.

you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.

“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”

gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.

gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.

“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.

once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.

your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.

gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”

you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.

“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.

gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”

but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.

gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.

gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”

he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.

“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”

gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.

“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.

he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.

when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”

gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”

he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.

gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”

gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.

his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.

you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”

your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.

“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”

he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.

gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.

a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.

but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”

your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.

“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.

gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.

gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”

gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.

your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.

a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.

a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.

“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”

gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.

as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.

the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”

gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.

overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.

after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.

his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.

a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”

you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.

gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”

he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.

gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.

gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.

his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.

gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.

you simply nod.

gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.

he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.

once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.

“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.

gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.

he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.

gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.

as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.

he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”

the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.

he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.

as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.

geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.

toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.

and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.

a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.

sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.

“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.

gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.

“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”

the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.

then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.

their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.

you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.

the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.

toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.

sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”

toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”

geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”

gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”

the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.

gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.

gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”

lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.

each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.

toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.

gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.

you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.

[lovelookspretty]

erase me

exboyfriend!rafe cameron x exgirlfriend!reader

— “ and i wonder who will erase me? ”

content: unhealthy relationship post-breakup, hookups, sexual themes, drinking, toxic cycles, SMALL ONE-SHOT idc

authors note: “erase me” by lizzy mcalpine has been my hyper fixation song lately n i was just watching the music video when i thought to myself huh. this would so fit with rafes character !

his lips are soft against your skin, pulling slowly away just to dive in again. he’s savoring every noise, every taste, every sight, every part of you.

his back is bare, freckles scattered across the ivory that you’ve thought about tracing once or twice before, only if you ever stuck around long enough.

his fingers curl inside you, erupting a reaction that he chases after. you’re like a drug to him. his tongue grinds—swirling, flicking, teasing. he’s giving his all to you. to please you. to make you feel like you never have before.

but there’s just something off.

you lower your chin to look at him through heavy lids. his forehead is licked with sweat, cheeks soft red but his lips swollen from working on you. the realisation comes faster than you do.

for the past eighteen minutes you have not had a present bone in your body. he started eighteen minutes ago, and not once have you released yet, or felt like you wanted to.

it’s almost embarrassing, needless to say more for him and less for you, but you can still feel second-hand. your mind can wander but it doesn’t stray from the fact that he can’t give you what you need. but you know who can.

just as you look closer, he’s pulling himself off of you to flip you onto your stomach so he can fuck you. it’s raw, and he slips his cock inside of you easily—it’s just better than whatever the hell he was doing before.

his hips snap brutally against your own, his chest pressed against your back as he curves his hand around your throat, applying pressure. there.

that’s when you feel it. not him, but that familiar sense. a warmth you know all too well. you’ve been tossed, turned, flipped, thrown, all for the pleasure of a man. here, it’s no different.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, and all you can think about is him again. his grunts in your ear, encouraging you to keep holding yourself up so he can murmur how pathetic you are so that the praises hit better. you’d rather feel the tip of his cock finding your g-spot over and over again until you string out a moan, barely comprehensible but you know that he can make out his own name from your lips.

rafe.

you wanna say it again—rafe. but it’s fine. right here is fine. this guy’s fucking you in his bed. he’s surely some eye candy, and he’s been gentle with you all night. the sex can be rough though, and maybe that’s what you need.

still, something stirs in you, and you know that it’s not what you want.

you wake up to the pale yellow light filtering through unfamiliar blinds. the room is silent, save for the soft breathing of the guy beside you. he’s sprawled out, dead asleep, dark hair ruffled, face turned away. you don’t even remember his name—just that he’s neighbors with your friend who hosted the party last night.

your head throbs, a steady, unforgiving ache that pulses behind your eyes, and the sour taste of rum still lingers on your tongue. you shift slightly, feeling the rough fabric of his sheets against your bare skin, and suddenly, an emptiness sinks in, heavy and suffocating. you’re barely dressed, just his oversized t-shirt clinging to you like a ghost of whatever last night was supposed to mean.

you stare blankly ahead, your head propped on a pillow, but your body turns away from him, toward the edge of the bed. your arm dangles off the side, fingertips brushing the floor. it’s ironic, how last night’s distraction becomes this morning’s reminder of how desperate you are to erase him—rafe.

you stay like that for a moment, unmoving, letting the sting of it seep in. the room smells like cologne and stale alcohol. he’s nice enough, you think vaguely. kind eyes, a smile that had been warm just last night.

but now, it’s empty. meaningless.

you push yourself up slowly, carefully, so you don’t wake him. your fingers shake a little as you pull on your clothes from the night before, you don’t bother with anything else. you move quietly as you gather your shoes and slip them on, not daring to glance back.

when you step out into the early morning air, the street is quiet, the world still practically waking up. rafe’s name pounds in your head with each step you take.

your hand shakes as you pull your phone from your pocket, staring at his name in your contact list. you shouldn’t call him. you know that. but the ache, the gnawing desperation to hear something from him, is too much to resist. your thumb hovers for a second too long, then you press the call button before you can think better of it.

it rings. once. twice. you almost hope he doesn’t pick up, that you can hang up and convince yourself you were just being stupid. but then the line clicks, and his voice cuts through, sharp and unforgiving.

“what?” his voice is rough, low, the way it gets when he’s been up all night. you can picture him now, jaw tight, blue eyes dark and narrowed. your pulse quickens.

you swallow, suddenly dry-mouthed. “rafe,” you mumble. “hey.”

“are you serious right now?” he snaps, and you can hear the rustle of sheets, like he’s sitting up. “don’t call me, y/n. i don’t want to hear your voice.”

the words sting, but they don’t stop you. they never do. you almost smile, that twisted, sick part of you that craves this, the heat of his anger, the way it matches the storm in your chest.

“why not?” your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to, a little rasp from sleep and the lingering effects of alcohol. “you sound wide awake for someone who doesn’t wanna talk.”

there’s a pause, just long enough for you to think he might hang up, but then his voice comes back, clearer, like he’s got the mic pressed right against his mouth. “you’re unbelievable—‘hear me? un-believable. you leave that party with some random guy and then you call me? is this some kind of game to you?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you mutter, but it’s half-hearted. it was exactly like that. your shame burns hotter under rafe’s scalding words.

“no? then what is it, hmph? because lately, all you’ve done is show me just how fast you can try to replace me,” he spits, voice laced with something that sounds dangerously close to hurt.

your grip on the phone tightens, nails digging into your palm. “it’s not like you’re innocent,” you say, the words barely a whisper. it’s pathetic, you know it is, but it’s all you have.

“don’t turn this around on me,” he snaps. “yeah, i know what you’re trying to do, running off with random guys like it’s supposed to mean something. you think i don’t hear about it? but you call me? after all of this, you still call me?”

his voice cracks at the end, barely perceptible, and that tiny break twists something in your chest. you press your lips together, trying not to let him hear the way your breath shakes despite your smile.

“rafe—”

“no,” he interrupts, hard, a finality to it that hits you like a slap. “don’t call me again.”

the line goes dead, and for a moment, you just stand there, staring at the phone in your hand. you feel some strange, hollow satisfaction just from hearing his voice, hearing him angry, hearing him give a fuck, even if it’s in the worst way.

a bitter smile tugs at your lips, but it fades just as fast, leaving a dull ache in its place. your teeth graze your bottom lip, the embarrassment settling in, thick and heavy. what were you even hoping to get out of that?

you shove your phone back into your pocket, the regret sinking in as you start to walk.

the music pulses through the room. you dance, eyes closed, while two faces are close, dancing around you, their hands lightly grazing your hips, steadying you as you sway. you can feel the warmth of their laughter and the faint pull of their fingers, but your mind is elsewhere. you’re not thinking about them. you’re not even thinking about yourself. you’re thinking about him.

rafe stands across the room, one hand gripping a cup. his jaw is tight, eyes narrowed as he watches you from a distance.

he notices everything. the way your hair tumbles over your shoulders, the curve of your lips when you laugh at something someone whispers in your ear, the way your body responds, a subtle roll of your hips, when the beat drops. it’s infuriating.

you’re so far away, yet every move you make drags him closer to the edge. he hates it. hates that you’re pretending not to see him. hates that you’re acting like this—so carefree, so untethered, so far from the girl he remembers.

someone bumps into you, hard enough that you stumble slightly. rafe’s grip on his drink tightens, the glass groaning under the strain of his fingers. but then he sees it—how you turn and smile, an easy, genuine smile, and apologize to the stranger as if the fault was yours.

not even a hint of annoyance, not a trace of the sharpness he knows you have when provoked.

he watches, feeling the burn of it—how can you be so good, so kind, yet crave the venom he’s always fed you?

do they know you called him this morning just to hear him snap at you, that you needed the sound of him furious just to feel close? he doesn’t think so, but he’s in awe, and it makes him hate you, hate himself.

how do you still do this to him?

the trance is broken when sofia appears, slipping from the hallway with a playful smile. she says something—something about the line for the bathroom being longer than ever, that everyone’s probably considering the ocean instead.

he smiles, nodding as he pulls her in, an arm draped around her shoulders. the shift in his attention is deliberate, as if trying to convince himself he doesn’t care. as if touching someone else, being close to someone else, could drown out the low hum of you in his veins.

and that’s when you open your eyes, half-lidded and hazy, the world coming into focus with a few blinks. you glance around, a soft smile still curving your lips, until your gaze lands on them.

there’s no hiding the small, faint frown that pulls at your mouth. it’s barely there, but still is. you watch rafe let her take his drink, her fingers brushing his as she sips. your eyes flick down, betraying you for a moment as you take in their closeness, and then, just like that, you look away.

there’s a sting behind your eyes, but it’s not strong enough to stop you. you press your lips into a thin line, exhaling sharply as you turn back to the crowd. you don’t pause before reaching for the hand of a guy nearby, someone whose name you won’t remember tomorrow. again.

you lace your fingers through his and pull him with you, stepping through the bodies and toward the stairs. he watches, his mouth set in a thin line, but he doesn’t move. he just watches you walk away.

it all twists something inside you, bitter and raw, but you keep walking. maybe you and rafe are both pretending it’s over, trying to find where you begin without each other. at least you know now who’s painting over the last parts of you.

erasing you.

a/n: wanted to just leave it here and kind of quickly depict toxic cycles & the two POVs 😭 bc yea they are so NOT over each other

tags: @iiszaa @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0

[mochie85]

Have Mercy

One Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You're a powered being with healing abilities and you try to bring Loki back from the brink of death. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 1832 Warnings: Fluff, heavy kissing, slapping, mentions of death (close call), injury, a very flirty Loki,

You didn’t know how much time had passed since you all started the ambush. Tall sequoias canopied above blocking the setting sun. The air was thick with smoke and heavy from the fighting. You heard multiple teammates calling for healing, but none was louder than Thor. His troubled voice blasted through the comms, “Medic! We need a healer quickly!” His deep command tore you away from the battle you were in and you fought your way over to him. “Priestess, please! Come quick!”

Through fire and volley, you found Thor kneeling on the ground with Loki in his arms. Lifeless. Steve was circling them, trying to shield the brothers from a barrage of attacks.

You knelt on the ground. Your knees hit soft mud as your eyes scanned Loki’s body. His sharp face was paler than usual. Blue-ish tint had started to stain his lips. And your naïve-self hoped it was just because of the cold seeping from the wet ground. “Thor, I’ll take it from here. Go help Steve. I can’t worry about my life when I have to worry about his!”

Thor nodded to you. But before he laid Loki down, he whispered in his ear, “I know you are stronger than this, brother. But I swear on Yggdrasil if you are pretending, I will not hesitate to cleave Stormbreaker into you.” Thor sniffed and placed him down to the ground.

You nodded your head and patted Thor’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine,” you feigned, as you tried to get a better look at what had happened. You didn’t have the heart to tell Thor that you could feel how thin and fragile Loki’s life string was. A hair, compared to the cord that we all have. Worse, the thick rope that the Asgardian’s life used to be. You didn’t even know if you were skilled enough to weave it stronger.

There was a large gaping hole that tore Loki’s chest plate. His skin had burned and was raw from the impact. You couldn’t see any entry wounds. Nor blood. But the bruising and dent on his chest was not a good sign. A stray missile, perhaps? Maybe jumping in the way to save his brother. They vex each other constantly. But deep down they care for each other like most siblings do.

You straddled his body, holding your two hands out, placing them over his wound. A soft resonance emitted from your palm down to his skin. You kept your hands on him as the pulse of your powers worked their way through his body. You can see tiny mends of his scrapes and scratches. The raw skin around the wound had returned to their usual pallor.  He’s reacting at least. There’s still some life in him- whatever little is left.

You persisted. With every pulse, you can see his wounds healing. Ribs cracking back into place. The blue on his lips retreated ever so slowly. But his lifeline was stubborn. If you could hold out just long enough, his own regenerative powers might kick in.

Grasping at straws, your mind quickly raced with ideas to help speed the process along. You remembered that sometimes, shock was a good way of knocking someone back into the land of the living. “Ugh, don’t get mad at me, okay? I’m only trying to save your life,” you vowed out loud in case he was able to hear you. You quickly pulled your palm back and slapped Loki hard across his cheek.

Small capillaries burst where your hand met his face. Aside from the new hue, Loki had remained the same. Still and quiet. His line fading from your grasp. You panicked at your failed attempt.

You didn’t know what to do anymore. You didn’t know how to tell Thor that you couldn’t save his only brother. Ideas and thoughts ran past your mind all muddled and incoherent. Ways and spells. Teachings and theories you’ve learned on healing and regeneration.

You cupped Loki’s cheek, healing the bruise you had left. Your brows knit together, puzzled as to what to do next. Hopeless in feeling and thought. You didn’t want to look up. You didn’t want to see Thor’s face and have to tell him an awful truth. They had just reunited this past year. It wasn’t fair. And it would be all your fault because you couldn’t save him. You couldn’t save Loki. Your heart turned solemn as angry tears threatened to drop from your eyes.

By now the fighting had stopped. You didn’t realize how quiet the world had gotten around you. How still the air was from flying projectiles or weapons. The team gathered loosely. Giving you space to try and save Loki’s life, but the look on their faces betrayed the faith they were trying to offer you.

Your thumb brushed Loki’s cheek, wiping away the mud that speckled his face. He would’ve been appalled if he knew where Thor had left him on the ground. You smirked at the thought as your thumb rested on his chin and traced his lips.

His cold lips opened slightly at your touch, and you were struck with an idea.  You grabbed both sides of his leather collars and brought him to sit up towards you. His slack weight was heavier than you anticipated, and it took your remaining strength to sit him upright. You closed your eyes as your lips crashed into his, honing your powers into that desperate kiss.

You had never done this before. You had never needed to do this before. But you were hoping that your breath of life could pass onto him and carry him through till his own powers could take over. You sucked hard on his upper lip, not wanting to break any contact. Your fingers entwined themselves in his hair, desperate to keep him close to you. “Please. Please. Please,” you whispered into his mouth. Tears fell from your eyes and landed on his cheek. Your arms wrapped around his neck, unwilling to let go. Unwilling to accept the truth.

Still, you continued.

You felt a low rumble from his chest. A hopeful sign that it’s working. You just needed to hold on a little bit longer! You opened your lips for a breath of your own. And when you closed your mouth around his, your power pulsated in between you.

You felt his temperature return first. The warmth in his lips, the heat in his breath. You could feel his lifeline winding itself tighter and stronger.

His mouth returned your kiss. Sluggish and tentative. But they held on to your lips, tightly. His hands embraced your hips so delicately you didn’t even know they were there. You naturally leaned into the kiss more. Your power still pulsing through you. One last intake of breath and you passed it along towards Loki.

His grip tightened around you and he pulled you closer onto his lap. His arms snaked around you, holding your head close to his, unwilling to let you go.  You could hear small groans and heavy panting. But you honestly didn’t know whether it came from you or from Loki.

His tongue touched your lips, asking for entry. Catching your breath you opened your mouth once again and Loki gainfully ran his tongue inside against the roof of your mouth.

You didn’t realize that your powers had finished. With nothing left to heal, your powers subsided. But you were so lost in the kiss that you had forgotten where you were and what you were doing. Slowly, you pulled away. But Loki’s kiss followed you unwilling to release you. You bit his bottom lip as a warning, holding his face in between your hands.

“Darling, what an indecent way to ask me out,” Loki grinned from ear to ear. His voice was rough and garbled. He kept his face close to yours, running his nose against your cheek. “I accept!”

The world came crashing back around you. The time. The place. The situation. The shock froze you in place just staring into Loki’s blue-green eyes. “I always thought you harbored affections for me. But now I am certain,” he taunted.

You slapped him.

You couldn’t think of anything else to do. You felt betrayed somehow. Tricked. Even though you knew that he was genuinely in peril. The fact that he was joking about it even now, irked you.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. His brow furrowed as he slowly turned his head to face you again. His chin jutted out, trying to contain the smirk that was coming forth. “Is that how you like it?”

You tried to push yourself off of him. You’ve had enough of his antics. You were utterly embarrassed at being caught in this situation. Especially with the team around, surely watching.

He caught your wrists as you pushed on his chest, stopping you. “Do it again,” he commanded. His grin was out in full force now. Dazzling you to the last inch of your nerve.

“Ugh, the thanks I get for saving your life!” pushing him down as you stood yourself up. “Next time I’ll just leave you limp in the mud.” You sneered, walking away with your head held high and your face heated and red. From humiliation or from desire, you didn’t know.

“Well, that’s very hard to do when you’re kissing me like that, my angel,” Loki yelled after you. He couldn’t stop smiling as he watched you angry and flustered. All because of him. Oh, I’m in trouble.

“What do I gotta do to get a kiss like that?” Bucky asked teasingly as you stomped passed him.

“Die!” you growled back at him. The words felt mean as they left your mouth. And you regretted saying them instantly. He was only trying to lighten the situation. But you couldn’t help the shame you had inside you.

“Oh, c’mon doll. I was only teasing.” Bucky raised his arms in defeat and followed you back to the quinjet, laughing.

“Loki!” Thor scolded as he held his hand to his brother, helping him up. “I hope that you were not deceiving us just to try and gain favor with the priestess. I know you’ve been seeking her affections.”

“Brother! I am genuinely hurt! Did you not see me lying there at the last inch of my life?” Loki contended, pointing to the ground where he once laid.

Thor rolled his eyes but smirked, clapping Loki on the shoulder. He was glad to have his brother back once again. “She’s very talented that one. And I do not want to see her get hurt, Lo-. Loki are you listening to me.”

Loki was at a loss for words, watching you. “She gave me my life back, brother. I have felt her lips against mine and I’ll be damned if I don’t feel them again soon.” Loki smiled as he swatted away Thor’s hand on him. His eyes solely on you, plotting how to get you to kiss him again.

A/N: I know it's been awhile. I do plan on finishing my series' soon. Thanks for staying with me. Life has been hard and you guys get me through it.

🏷️ @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish @capswife @dangertoozmanykids101 @shadycloudcollection @annoyingsweetsstranger @alyeskathewave @xxjust-a-kidxx @tallseaweed @liliacdreamer @stevihj +more in the comments

[rnvsxo]

Ok. No. I’m really about to go tf off so bear with me.

I need to speak about this because WTF WAS THIS MASTERPIECE?! Like. No. Because this was beyond art. There’s no words for this beautiful ass story. Like I am truly speechless because you’ve done it every single fucking time @st4rbwrry 😭

There’s nothing more beautiful than when a man fully devotes himself to a woman and maybe I’m just projecting, but Eren in this story is literally my dream man. Like the way he loves reader wholeheartedly, and just went against all the obstacles to marry her and they’re just happy together with no kids mind you cause fuck them kids LMFAO. Your writing is literally so beautiful to dive myself into because I can clearly visualize the world that I’m reading about in your story regardless of whatever the story is.  i’m not sure if you’ll ever expand on this particular story with Eren, but I truly would not mind it. I would actually love for you to continue writing about them 🥺🥺🥺 I would give up my life savings just to get a weekly story, travel, one shot, etc. about forbidden love Eren. UGH it was so beautiful and I just need to rant and not make it too long about my love for this. I shall be coming back to the story every couple of weeks just to reread it. 



𝒟𝒜𝒩𝒢𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒰𝒮𝐿𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

꒰ forbidden love with a southern boy sounds fun. a pastor for a father, and living in a small town with god-fearing, gossipy folk was not. ꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 16.8k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, farmer!eren + bluecollar!eren, domesticity, established relationship, talks of religion, small mention of abuse and alcoholism, forbidden love, sneaking around, age difference + time skip, lotssss of arguments, oral sex ꒰ f + m ꒱, quiet sex (they try ;3), fingering, spanking, lots of kisses, eren’s rlly affectionate, foreplay, rough sex, size difference, spitting in mouth vv briefly, sub/dom dynamic, lots of dirty talk, multiple orgasms + overstim. minors do not interact. reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated. ♡

꒰ theme songz + mocha’s note ! ꒱ . . . i’ll be by edwin mccain + movie by avenoir. . . i rlly like this plot, didn’t mean for it to be so long srry. but it’s good so ;) very notebook themed.

 

getting married in secrecy was every family’s worst nightmare. the opportunity to see their creation speak soul-written vows to their lovers and part ways into unity. to laugh and dance together, snap photos, share cuisines and three-tiered intricately crafted fondant cake. helping their daughter pick out a dress, and their son a tux. all of those memories are delicate and forever cherished. to be ridden of that felt cruel. but, what family deserves that when they don’t accept who you're giving your love to? when they find the person you’re marrying selfish, undeserving of your love, and rude? those are the words people used to describe eren, your husband. 

the sun beats down upon the quaint southern town of georgia, casting long shadows across the freshly cut lawns and pegasus-painted houses. a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the ancient oak trees lining the streets, their gnarled branches stretching towards the cloudless sky. in the heart of this idyllic community, nestled between the town square and the bustling main street, stands a modest yet stately residence. this is where you resided years ago with your father, the reverend pastor kain. the house exudes warmth and tradition, its wraparound porch adorned with rocking chairs and potted azaleas. a white picket fence encircles the property, symbolizing the tight-knit neighborhood and the values upheld within these walls.

inside, the air is thick with the scent of pot roast bubbling within the choral blue dutchoven and the soft hum of gospel hymns drifting from the living room in soft symphonies from your sickly mother. diagnosed with kidney failure yet always ensuring the three of you had the warmest days. the cool interior provides a welcome respite from the summer heat. the polished hardwood floors creak beneath your feet, leading you past a formal dining room with a sturdy oak table and matching chairs. family photographs line the mantel above the fireplace, capturing moments of joy and love.

your father's study lies at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. through the crack, you catch a glimpse of his desk, cluttered with stacks of paperwork, sermons, and bibles. the faint aroma of pipe tobacco wafts out, mingling with the musty smell of aged books. despite the comforting atmosphere, an undercurrent of tension hangs in the air, a palpable reminder of the forbidden nature of your love and the stern disapproval of your father, the man of god who once guided you with unwavering devotion.

you’ll never forget the intensity of your heart racing as you held eren’s hand within your own and stood before your father proclaiming your love. the look of disappointment on his face with furrowed brows, smile lines deep as he frowned and stared unwavering. the stern posture he’d taken by leaning up in his chair and hearing the nonsense coming from both of you. the bickering between him and eren while he held your hand the entire time, silently telling you he’d protect you while you shut out the aggressive sound of your father’s voice. 

your love blossomed in stolen moments, snatched between the cracks of duty and expectation. in the hushed whispers of late-night phone calls, the furtive glances exchanged across crowded rooms, and the fleeting touches that set your skin ablaze with longing. the two of you would meet in secret, hidden away from prying eyes and ignorant tongues. in the shadows of the park, where the crickets sang their serenade and the stars twinkled overhead. or in the cozy confines of his pickup truck, parked along lonely stretches of highway, miles from home.

there, in those intimate spaces, you’d lose yourselves in each other. lips meeting in passionate kisses, hands roaming freely, exploring the curves and contours of your bodies. you’d talk with him for hours, sharing hopes and fears, dreaming of a future where you wouldn’t have to hide your love. 

you met on a warm evening on your way to the farmers market, finding him churning butter with broad muscles, naked from his upper body and inked out over his neck and dominant forearm. there’s a slit in his right eyebrow that also held a piercing. slightly wavy brown hair pulled into a bun with baby blue overalls clinging to his skin. 

when he locked eyes with you while you pushed a cute green grocery cart, your heart immediately bloomed. those slanted grayish-green eyes with long, brown lashes of his stealing your strength. his movie star smile with a toothpick lodged between his teeth as he finally caught your gaze. the sun shone down on him, casting a golden glow on his tanned skin and ricocheting off the silver dog tag around his neck making him look even more attractive. 

the man gave you a wink before returning to his task, a sly smile playing on his lips. his arms flexed as he churned a bit harder, obviously showing off now that he knew he had your full attention. shyly, you pull your eyes away from him and pretend you don’t notice him staring as you inspect the vegetables before you. once he had finished, he wiped his hands off on a cloth and strode over to you, his overalls hanging from his hips now after he popped them free in front of you, sweat clinging to his skin. he stood in front of you, a cocky smile plastered on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, a few beauty marks littered across his skin.

he waited for a moment before speaking up, his voice low. “you know, you’re not very good at pretending you don’t notice me.” he chuckled as he spoke. “i can see you stealin’ glances at me from the corner of your eye.”

goddamn, you nearly short circuit from hearing his voice. it’s deep and slightly raspy. the smell of him is almost natural and sweet. you caught a whiff of apple. or maybe butter given he’d been working on it for the past three hours. 

“and if i was?” 

eren’s smirk widened at your snarky response. he took a step closer to you, his body now mere inches away from yours as he looked down at you, tilting his head slightly. “then i’d say you have a thing for hot and sweaty country boys.”

“yuck, that was so corny,” you giggle in his face. 

he rubbed his forehead with his palm, feigning disappointment at your response, but he was secretly enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. “mhm, yeah. it was, wasn’t it? sorry, i’m not good with talkin’ to pretty girls.” 

you hum. “mhm, i bet you say that to all the girls. it’s a small town, and you’re attractive. i hear lies.” 

“y’know, a liar doesn’t usually apologize for his bad pickup lines. unless . . . ” his voice was a low, sultry murmur now, and his eyes held an intensity that made you feel as if he was peering into your soul. the heat from his body felt like it was seeping into your own, and the air around you seemed to crackle with electricity as he spoke. “he means it. and you aren't calling me a liar are you, darlin’?” 

the way he looked at you made your heart thump hard in your chest, and the fact that he was so close made it difficult to think straight. there’s no doubt that this man was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, in real time at least. 

“you’re staring awful hard, like what you see?” 

“maybe i do.” 

“only maybe?” 

“i do,” you playfully roll your eyes. 

“geez, w’na marry me already,” he jokes, and of course you laugh like a lovesick teen. “i like your laugh, it’s cute. teehee.” 

listening to him mocking you made you gasp and lightly hit his arm. “stopp, i don’t sound like that!” 

“do so,” he slowly licks his lips, scanning you from head to toe. “i’d like to get to know you, if you don’t mind.” 

you nearly choked at the suggestion. me? he wants . . me? no way. “uh, you don’t even know me. didn’t even ask if i had a boyfriend.”

“are you tryin' to say you have a boyfriend?” 

“no, i don’t. but, i'm not allowed to.” 

a frown briefly tugged at his lips as he heard what you said, the meaning behind your words sinking in. not allowed to? “how come? strict parents? celibacy? . . nun?”

“okay, asshole,” you scoff. 

eren throws his hands up in defense. “sorry, just honestly askin’.”

you began to fidget at the thought of telling him about it. what if he ran away because he wanted nothing to deal with it? he notices your reluctance, and almost says something to dismiss the conversation for your sake. “my father’s extremely religious, well known in this town, actually. pastor kain.” 

“oh,” eren nods, understanding clearly now. he tried to be as considerate as possible, even though part of him didn’t care. if he wanted you, he’d have you. “so you’re the daughter. funny, me seeing you only now. he’s that strict he don’t let you come out or sum?” 

“ ‘the daughter’. why do you say that as if i have some type of rumor about me going around?”

“no, no, it’s nothing too serious. maybe a little insensitive, but . . i’ve just heard people whispering about your family and whatnot. things like your father being up his own ass or you being a  . . i’ll dial it down to prude ‘cause i find other shit said derogatory, and i'm sure untrue.” 

pursing your lips, you hum at the things being spoken behind your back. it’s not surprising. “thank you for telling me that. i’m sure a lot of people have opinions about me and my family. my dad can be a bit of a hard ass. and i surely wouldn’t call myself a prude. just because my family is religious doesn’t necessarily make me feel the same.”

“you’re not christian?” he asks. 

“no, not at all. i mean, i believe in something. i pray, i talk to someone, but i don’t consider them god. personally, i call them my fairy godmother,” you smile sweetly, thinking that sounded kind of silly. “sorry, that must sound childish.” 

“it doesn’t, it’s cute,” he chuckles. “i feel the same. agnostic is the term for me. plus, i’m more of a spiritual person. crystals and shit.” 

your brows raise. “wow, that’s rare to hear a man say that, at least here. it’s refreshing.” 

"why's that? you not from here?"

"nah, me and my mother are from the city. philly. he ended up moving us here after getting the deed to his grandfather's house. we've been here since i was ten."

eren shifts where he stands, removing the hair tie from his hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. tucking a strand behind one of his ears and shoving his hands into his pockets. “so does he have you on lockdown for the summer?” 

“pretty much. he’s got me set on studying for college. any other distraction in my path he throws a fit. i usually have free time whenever my mom needs something, like groceries for instance. i have friends and shit, i promise.” 

eren rolls his tongue and plants another toothpick in his mouth, chewing on it and watching as you curiously observe. to do the honors, he answers before you ask. “cigarette addiction. tryna cut back.” 

“makes sense.” 

“how’s about we keep it a secret?"

his tone was firm yet determined as he spoke. he knew it wouldn’t be easy to keep a relationship a secret from the pastor, especially with how overprotective the man was of his daughter. but he was willing to do it, to give you a chance to be happy and not live the way your father demanded. life’s too short, and you’re young and pretty. the thought of sneaking around with you, being your dirty little secret, made his heart thump in excitement. he was never one to play by the rules anyway.

“you mean like . . sneak around?”

“yeah. with your permission, of course.” 

for some reason, his intentions felt sexual. maybe he had heard the rumors and wanted to see what you were like and change that. you’re not a virgin, luckily the person who took it moved out of town therefore it remained a secret from everyone. he’s pretty to look at, nice on the eyes, fairly polite, and a flirt. but, you couldn’t put your finger on it. and if this was going to be a waste of your time, you surely didn’t want to risk your father finding out. 

so, you decline. “i gotta go, i’m sorry. it was nice meeting you though.” 

eren couldn’t help the slight grimace that appeared on his face when you extract your hand to give him a handshake. it felt so formal and . . cold. your dismissive tone and gesture made it seem like you were done, like you were giving up on the possibility of even interacting with him again. he wanted to question you further, but didn’t want to come off as pushy. 

“yeah, same to you.” 

while flashing a final smile, you push your cart around him to head for the check out counter. 

“when can i see you again?!” he shouts across the open market, hands cuffed around his mouth so you hear him loud and clear. 

“around!” 

eren felt a small ache of disappointment at your vague response, but couldn’t help but smile at the frantic pace you left him at. he knew he’d see you again, he’d make sure of it. two weeks passed and the city’s fair was bustling with the townships' people. one they held every year right before halloween. you’d volunteer to help your mom with her candy apple stand, taking any opportunity not to be stuck home studying. 

the county area was picturesque, a perfect example of the serene beauty of rural life. the fields stretched out as far as the eye could see, rolling hills dotted with occasional trees breaking up the endless stretches of greenery. cows and sheep could be seen grazing in the distance, their peaceful presence adding to the tranquility of the setting. the air was clean and crisp, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers as the sun set into the night. the fair being held was a hive of activity. children running around laughing and excited chatter adding to the general din of the crowds. the smell of food wafted through the air, the scent of funnel cakes and other fried goods mingling with the underlying aroma of hay and dirt. bull rides and horse races occurring. 

eren found himself wandering through the fair, his thoughts preoccupied as he looked around. he didn’t really feel like playing games or participating in activities right now, he just wanted to clear his mind. but as he strolled past the laughing crowds of people, he paused, noticing a familiar figure nearby. his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, and a small jolt of excitement coursed through him. your dressed in dark blue low rise affliction jeans that were flared towards the bottom along with a matching vest top and black western boots. a plain black cowboy hat atop of your head. your hairstyle changed completely the last time he saw you. it’s longer, reaching the middle of your back in soft, curly bora bora braids. you looked beautiful. straight out of a dream. a magazine even. 

the wind blows roughly, and from where he stood he could smell the gourmand of your perfume. he stopped only a few feet from you, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look casual. despite the outward appearance of coolness, his heart was beating fast against his chest, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness coursing through his veins. he hoped you’d be happy to see him again, but he also couldn’t shake the fear that you might reject him. . . again. 

you were stationed at a small booth, an array of freshly made candy apples neatly lined up for sale. the aroma of sweet, sticky apples mixed with the sugary coating filled the air. a woman who stood beside you who stole your entire face, or more-like you stole hers, taking orders from customers, dipping each apple into the thick, red coating before handing it over with a smile. as he drew closer to you, he plastered a careless smile on his face, trying to appear nonchalant. he raised a hand in greeting, waving at you casually.

“hey, what a coincidence.” 

catching his attention, the glint in your eyes reads more than your face does, discreetly giving flirty while your smile is faint. you’re stunned to see him, in fact. briefly eyeing your mother before speaking. “oh, hi! um. . . didn’t catch your name before.” 

“oh, uh. it’s eren. yeager. eren yeager.” 

he felt a slight flush of embarrassment as he said his name. he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to even introduce himself when he’d first met you. he’d been so eager to get to know you, to convince you to give him a chance, that he’d completely forgotten to mention his own name.

“right, how are you?” 

“uh, good. yeah, i'm good.” 

“are you here with family?” 

“nah, i’m here with some friends. they’re wandering off somewhere,” he says. “are you? is your father here?” 

“he isn’t, actually. i just volunteered to help my mom out with her stand!”

eren’s smile grew just a fraction bigger at your response. he was silently grateful to whatever divine entity was watching over him for keeping your father from being here. it gave him a chance to talk to you freely. 

“is that so? so you’re not being watched over right now?”

“i’m twenty, i don’t need to be watched.”

“point taken,” he purses his lips, eyes trailing over to your mother who was clearly ear-hustling. eren decides to introduce himself. “how you doin’, ma’am. it’s a pleasure meeting you.”

“oh, hello!” your mother smiled back, turning her body fully to take in his sudden attention. she’s just a smaller version of you, same pretty face now slowly wrinkling with time. gray kinky curly hair that grazes her shoulders. she’s dressed in a long navy blue dress painted with yellow daises, a white apron draped around her neck. she smiles at eren’s charming demeanor. “are you a friend of my daughter's?” 

he gave a small nod. "yes, that's right.” 

you could tell your mother scrutinized him for a moment, taking in his appearance. she could tell he was well-groomed and well-spoken, but she also had a watchful eye for any potential troublemakers. she glanced over at you, noting the way you were watching the interaction between the two of them, and then glanced back at eren.

“well it’s nice to meet you. i don’t believe you gave me your name,” she nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze still appraising him. 

“apologies. i’m eren yeager, ma’am.” 

she took in his name and the way he presented himself, weighing him silently in her mind. she was clearly being protective, trying to figure out if he was a suitable friend for you or not. you sigh deeply, twirling your fingers anxiously. eren notices. 

“ah, so you’re the eren i’ve heard about. the troublemaker.” 

“ma. .” you eye her, as if telling her not to start. 

he smiled innocently, a small hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. he didn't think he was quite as bad as the rumors might’ve made him out to be, but he also knew that he wasn't exactly the most picture-perfect person. 

“troublemaker, huh? didn’t know i was known for that. i can tell you that i'm the sweetest person you’ll know if that eases you.” 

“hm,” your mother squints suspiciously, a small giggle, surprising to you at least, coming from her. you blink at her, brows furrowing. does she find him sweet? “aren’t you charming. i hope you stand by your word.” 

this was becoming awkward for you. given the way you were raised and the household you grew up in, your mother was always the sweet one. stern when needed, but for the most part she let you be your own person. she still had heavy concerns for the people you chose to surround yourself with. and a man wasn’t exactly something she’d be ecstatic with. but with her sickness, and unknowing of the time she had left, she’d let her guard down to see you happy. if he were to break your heart, it’d only be a lesson you’d have to learn on your own. 

you remove your sight off of the pretty boy before you, the stand quieting down from attraction to hold her shoulder endearingly. “mama, would it be okay if i stepped away for a bit? just to talk.”

“just for a bit, alright? and make sure you’re only talking,” she says, throwing eren a warning glare. you groan, titling your head annoyingly. 

eren nodded in understanding, silently vowing not to do anything that would give your mother a reason to get between you two. the last thing he needed was a scolding from a protective parent, especially one as dedicated as yours. he already had to potentially worry about your father. he gave your mother a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her worry just a bit. “don’t worry, ma'am. we’re just going to head to the hoedown for a dance.” 

you shoot him a look, dancing sounds different from talking. he smirks. 

“alright, fine. but you be back before ten, okay? no funny business.” 

shaking your head, you give her a peck on the cheek. “promise mama. thank you.” 

“mhm hmm.” 

she watches eren step aside as you remove your apron, maneuvering around the stand as he elongates his arm with a gentle ‘after you’, the two of you strolling away, but not before you turn to look back, giving her a grateful yet giddy smile. your mother chuckles, waving and smiling back, her heart warming at the sight of eren reaching to hold your hand that you hesitated to take before giving in. she couldn’t help but think this was going to be trouble. 

“she seems nice,” eren mutters, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “yeah, she’s very sweet. just can be a bit overprotective.” 

“it’s good you have parents that care for you like that,” he replied, an almost sad tone in his voice. 

"yeah, they. . they're cool," you say, faltering slightly as you try to find the right words. “what about yours?” 

you look up at eren, trying to catch his eyes, but he's staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his expression closed off. it’s clear that he doesn't want to dive too deep into it, but you can't help but wonder what could've happened to make him react like this. he clears his throat uncomfortably, protectively holding you close as he guides you through the crowd. it makes your heart jump. 

“dad isn’t the best.” 

“. . oh.” 

the ranch slowly comes into view, the sounds of music thrumming louder as you approach. there’s a large, open space filled with people dressed in their best western attire, a sense of excitement and nervousness overtaking you. eren leads you through to make your way towards the center of the ranch, where the dancing and festivities are already in full swing. the music is lively and upbeat, couples twirling and spinning across the makeshift dance floor. others chugging down drinks at the bar. 

“you w’na show me how you move?” there’s a certain look in his eye, something else that you can't quite identify. his confidence is infectious. 

the crowds contagious, and it’s clear that everyone is having a great time. but you can’t help but fidget at the thought of dancing with someone you’re extremely attracted to. who smelt like patchouli, dressed in all black with tan, slightly roughed up cowboy boots. who’s smile is as bright as the moon, chocolate long hair making him look like the prettiest prince. it felt like a date. and technically, this would be your very first one. which, now that you’re thinking about it, is probably why your mom looked at you the way she did. 

you cower, biting your lip. “um, i . . can’t dance. at least the way they are.” 

eren raises his brow at your declaration. “really? hm.” 

you swallow when eren’s hand pulls you a little closer by your hip, gently resting there to guide you into position. "don't worry. i’ll lead, and you just follow. it’s not rocket science, right?"

“okay.” 

he starts to move, slowly guiding you into a basic step. despite your lack of knowledge, you try your best to keep up with him, your eyes glancing down at your feet every now and then out of fear of tripping. eren notices your hesitation and gives a small laugh. he keeps his arm around your waist, making sure you don't falter.

"relax. you’re doing fine. stop looking at your feet so much. you’re going to fall if you keep it up.” 

“sorry,” you giggle, your initial nerves starting to fall off as you let him guide you. 

he spins you around gracefully, his hand still firmly holding you in place. you're starting to get the hang of it, your body slowly moving in time to the music. the expression on eren’s face is a mix of amusement and pride; it's clear he's enjoying teaching you to dance. as the music changes to a slightly faster beat, he picks up the pace a bit, twirling you around with practiced ease. his steps are confident, his grip firm yet comfortable. you find yourself actually enjoying the experience, laughing at your own clumsy attempts to keep up with him. his smile widens, his eyes shining with a playful glint as he watches you. amused by your honest attempts of catching up. 

the music slows down eventually, and now plays a soft melody that has couples pulling each other closer to slow dance romantically. rolling your lips inward, you beam up at him with a soft chuckle. i’ll be by edwin mccain playing, and it happened to be one of your favorite songs. the moment becomes intimate, and eren makes a move to rest both hands on your lower back to pull you even closer so your chest touches his. the warmth from his body onto yours gives you goosebumps. it gets more romantic when he places your arms on his shoulder, your hands interlocking while his eyes lock onto yours. bodies swaying slowly with the melodious tune.

“don’t know if i told you how pretty you are.”

you can feel a flutter in your chest at the unexpected compliment. you turn your eyes away from him, a small smile playing on your lips as you try and hide your reaction. you can feel the warmth rising in your face, and you have a feeling he notices it too. “and i told you that you say that to all the girls.”

you’re unsure what switched, but his face grows calm, studying your face intently, hugging you closer as if you’d slip away. that makes you alert. “so . . your mother thinks i’m trouble. i’m not sure what you’ve heard about me. we do live in a small town so shit gets around, including rumors. but, what i’m worried about is how you perceive me.” 

the tone in his voice catches you off guard, his eyes fixed on yours with an almost vulnerable expression. “um, i haven’t heard anything about you to be honest. i don’t really stick my nose in drama, or the bullshit older folks gossip about. clearly, my mom knows, and i’ve heard something minor about your father. . i just — don’t want things like that to cloud my judgment of you. i’d wanna get to know you from you.”

he swallows, trying to contain his thankfulness. “seriously?” 

“yeah, i mean . .” you shrug shyly. “people don’t necessarily have many nice things to say about me or my family apparently. i guess you could say we’re two peas in a pod.” 

“outcasts,” eren prys in a small joke. 

“complicated, whatever. misconceptions everyone makes when they don’t know shit. if i get to know you, and get what i think we want to get from each other, and it turns out to be great or goes completely to shit? then that’s for me to decide when i’m ready.” 

“you’re absolutely right,” he sighs. “i fuckin’ hate this town sometimes. i’m twenty-three ‘n i feel like i'm stuck here. i just wanna run away and start a new life.” 

“i feel the same,” you weakly smile, thoughts flashing around in your head. “this doesn’t feel like home anymore. the community is perfect exterior-wise, but deep down everyone’s a little demented. and believe it or not, my life is miserable. my father’s too overbearing, my mom's sick. they have these high expectations of me, like going to college and honoring the family’s name. but, i’m starting to realize it’s not what i want anymore. i’m only doing it to please them. my father legit made me take a year off just to make sure i’m fully prepared for college.”

“has your father always been strict like that?” eren switches with you as more people make way on the floor, facing south now. the star lights hung on the ceiling setting the mood as more love music played. 

“since i was a kid, yeah. he’s always had these values he believed we should uphold. ‘keeping’ the families guidance, child’ he would say,” eren watches you chuckle dryly, his jaw clenching. “often times i wonder why my mother married someone like him when she’s the complete opposite. i’m guessing he was different when they were younger. sometimes i think i ruined their love.” 

“don’t think that, ꒰♡꒱,” hearing your name come from him made you squeeze his hand tighter, oddly feeling comforted. “whatever problems they have aren’t because of you. they decided to bring you into this world, therefore it’s their job to raise you to be the best you can be. and i think you’re great, and you can think for yourself and do whatever you want with your life.” 

“thank you, eren.” 

“mhm,” eren searches your face continuously, memorizing every detail of expression. for future notes. “do you think he’s so hard on you because he never got the opportunities you have? or ‘cause, you know, you’re his only girl?” eren asks. 

instantly, you nod. “yeah, that’s definitely it. he’s afraid to make a mistake. granted, he’s made a few already. no parent is perfect, but it’d be nice if he’d see me as the adult i am now and not just his baby girl. or perceive me as this sweet little church girl whose only values in life are to please her parents and have awards to hang in the house to boast about when we get visitors.” 

“that’s gotta be hard, i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay. i’d also be the first in my family to attend college. i got offered a scholarship to brown, which is why he has me studying till i bleed. figuratively, of course.” 

“wow, an ivy league. that’s big.” 

“thanks, i’m a genius,” you roll your eyes sarcastically. your hands drop from his neck, entwining your right hand with his left, eren wrapping his arm around your waist as you two dance that way. “your hands are really soft.” 

“all that butter i be churnin’,” he cackles. his face grows serious once more, and yet again you’re unable to read him. “listen, so . . i w’na tell you that i really am drawn to you. i like you, ‘n i’d like to get to know you. who knows, maybe one day we can run away together from our lives here, some cliché shit like that.” 

“i . . yeah. i really wanna get to know you, too.”

“ooh, you likin’ me?” he flirts. 

you can't help but give him a small smile, your cheeks flushing slightly. this lovesick feeling you get around him was something you’d only read about in novels hauled up in your bedroom to escape reality. it felt nice. 

"maybe i am. what if i am?"

"i like the sound of that," he replies, his voice a soft murmur just above your ear. "i like it a lot, actually."

you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the closeness making your heartbeat quicken. you try to tell yourself that it's just the dance, just the music, that's making you feel this way, but deep down, you know it's more than that. something about eren, something about the way he's looking at you right now, is stirring up feelings you haven't felt before.

“you know," he says, his voice low and intimate, "would it be too early for me to ask to kiss you?”

and that followed up with more forbidden kisses. the two of you tried to see each other four days out of the week, of course, sunday’s being off limits. you’d run to the market for your mother and spend most of your time at eren’s farm feeding the animals and helping him work. making up an excuse when your mother asked why you took so long. the two of you decided it was best to keep your relationship private from both your mother and father until the time was right. there are nights when you would sneak out when your parents were sleeping to make out in the back of his pickup truck under the stars. 

play fighting in the lake, writing each other love letters, running into his arms whenever you saw him while he spun you around and held you tight. every moment spent with him felt like a novel. every kiss feels like a risk, every touch like a secret act of rebellion. living a double life pretending to be just friends. the intimacy of stolen moments you share is like a secret language, a bond forged by the very secrecy that threatens to keep you apart. a month into the relationship, eren surprised you with a date at the same ranch where you shared your first dance. decorating the back of his truck with blankets, pillows, and tons of snacks for a drive-in movie casting on the back of the ranch. he made love to you for the first time that night. 

pastor kain and most of the god-fearing parents in this town knew that eren had a reputation for being rowdy and a sweet talker with the girls. he’s not necessarily someone they’d see their daughter for. and eren will admit he’s made some poor decisions in life, but that didn’t make up for who he was deep inside. nobody knew him. they only knew the surface level of what was spoken of him and his family. the yeager's. eren practically runs the farm that’s in his mother’s name, working his ass off every day while his father wastes himself in heavy liquor on the living room couch. he could’ve left a long time ago, but his attachment to his mother and what she built refused to let him pull away. 

his father made a few public appearances that tarnished their family name further. altercations with good people in town for giving him dirty looks or speaking with ill intent on his son. a father forever, but a horrible dad through and through. his reputation already ruined eren’s. a lot of people assumed he’d be exactly like his father; a drunk, and an abuser. his mother going without peace in a horrible fight between the two causing her heart attack. eren hates that he can’t let him go, having a few nasty fist fights himself. maybe he’s hoping he’d get better one day and be someone. but that was far from what will happen. 

eventually, you and eren sneaking around had to end when word got out about it through your father’s church; an older woman calling you a slut and stating that you’ll be no good dealing with a yeager. it’s clear they were truly disliked in this town full of idiots and sinners themselves. ‘holier than thou, up their asses, pretentious dicks!’ is what eren had to say about it. you and your father had one of the worst arguments of your life. a total scream fest when he found out. 

eren sat outside in his truck, anxiously bouncing his leg, eventually exiting to pace around on your porch. you come out with tears streaming down your face, eyes red and puffy. eren falls apart, cooing ‘awe, baby’ before embracing you into a tight hug, his strong arms burying your face into the warmth of his chest. 

“he just doesn’t understand. i don’t get why he doesn’t understand,” you choke on your sobs, eren brushing a hand down the back of your head, kissing it after. 

“let me talk to him,” eren suggests, and instantly you’re disagreeing, backing away and trembling. 

“no, eren. i told you, nothing we can say will get through to him. he’s fuckin’ hopeless!” 

“kain, stop it!” your mother’s frantic voice could be heard shouting at your father from inside, glass being thrown out of anger. 

the blood flows through eren’s veins viscerally, an intense feeling settling within him, bringing back memories of his own mother. the booming voices of his father and items being tossed, knocked down, or torn. without another word, he’s rushing into your home intending to set things straight. you panic, following his lead, unaware of what he is capable of when angry. you’ve never seen him on that level before. you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t put his hands on your parent, and he was respectful to show proper communication. 

“eren!” your voice croaks, tailgating him as he approaches your father’s office where the commotion ensues. 

“he’s corrupting our child! why can’t you see that?!” 

eren stands tall, pulling you behind him protectively as he meets pastor kain’s accusing glare with unwavering determination. 

“who told you to step foot into my home, boy?” pastor kain grits, your mother standing idly beside him, pain wretched over her face. your lips begin to tremble, hating seeing her that way. you never wanted this to be the outcome. you just wanted to love this man. why should you be punished for that? 

“corrupting her?” eren chooses to ignore his statement and cut to the main issue. “sir, with all due respect, it’s not your decision to say who she can ‘n cannot be with. i have no intent to hurt her, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. we've made choices based on what's best for us, for our future. ‘n while those choices may differ from what you had planned, they are ours to make.”  

“and who gave you permission to include yourself into my daughter's plans?” the man snarled, eyeing you as you sob behind eren aggressively. your cries paining eren’s heart. you were too broken to stand up for yourself right now. feeling like you’ve been doing that for your entire existence. it felt safe to have eren handle things for you. 

“she did, because she’s an adult and i will marry her whether you give us your blessing or not,” his voice rises, tinged with a hint of defiance. the word marriage drives your father into madness. “i will never apologize for loving your daughter, for wanting to build a life with her. if that makes me a bad decision in your eyes, then so be it. but i refuse to let you dictate the course of our happiness.” 

his gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and disappointment. the tension hung heavy in the air, the weight of their disagreement pressing down upon them. yet amidst the conflict, there was an undercurrent of love and concern, a testament to the complex bond that existed between father and daughter. your father holds a hand to his heart as if it’s torn, strolling around his brown desk to take a seat. 

“you’re going to let him speak for you, ꒰♡꒱. speak to me like this? there’s no respect for me anymore?” 

your sniffles are loud, removing your face from the middle of eren’s broad back to stand your ground, elevating your head and clutching his hand tighter. “i truly don’t know what else i can say to you, daddy. i’m not fond of the life you have planned for me. i will always be your daughter, but i can’t and will not be this little girl you want to have control over. i am an adult, therefore you have to treat me as such. i no longer want to attend college because of my own decision. it was always your dream, not mine. eren had nothing to do with these transitions. i am allowed to love whomever i please.” 

the room falls silent as your parents stare at you, your mother placing her hands over her chest with loving despair. she herself has made multiple attempts to try and change her husband's point of view, but nothing surpasses. eren glances at you, eyes shining with adoration and protectiveness. 

“it’s not that i won’t let you live your life. it’s that i don’t approve of who you’re trying to give your life to. what can he do for you?” 

eren feels a sense of inferiority. “i may not come from wealth, but i am not a man of indolence. your daughter is a remarkable woman who deserves everything she wishes for. she knows her own mind ‘n heart, ‘n she's chosen me. ‘n i love her for that. i’m not belittling your concerns, but i can not, in good conscience, abandon the woman i love’ needs. we may not fit the mold you've envisioned, but i love her and will continue to whether you disapprove or not. i will provide for her, take care of her. she never has to lift a finger while with me.” 

pastor kain’s face contorted in anguish, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world bore down upon him. he looked at you, then at eren, his eyes searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of compromise.

“oh lord, have mercy on us all,” with a heavy sigh, he turned away, his voice barely audible as he spoke. “you’ve made your choice clear, ꒰♡꒱. you’re choosing to leave the only home you've ever known, turnin' your back on the only family you've ever had. and for what? a fleeting romance with a man who can't even provide you with a stable future? someone rowdy with a poor excuse of a father? a flirt who can’t handle his greed for women? you want me to be happy for you? for this? he ain’t good for you, baby girl. and i will stand by that for as long as i breathe.” 

that’s when all of you equally realized that no matter what was said, his opinion will remain one sided. admitting defeat as a whole. anything that was said completely flew over his head, and only his view mattered. it’s narcissistic, and bizarre. eren was baffled, in fact. 

the waves of pain crash down on you, wishing he would just understand you, and be happy for you. to approve and give his blessings. to tell you that the man you’re in love with is good for you. eren holds you as your body grows weak, almost falling over. it’s clear the effect this had on you, and he fucking hated it. 

“i just want you to . . you don’t even k-know him.” 

he shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i fear for your soul, my dear.” 

i fear for your soul. that haunted your dreams like nothing else ever had. it was by far the vilest thing you’d ever heard your father say to you. it made you cry for days on end. breaking your heart over and over again. weakening since the moment you’d packed your suitcase and said goodbye to your mother. you no longer saw your father as family. giving her a heartfelt embrace and kissing your home goodbye. four months later, your mother passed away. regret ached at you for not seeing her as much after you left with eren. you’d seen her only a few times after the horrible fight, spending the day with her as she gave eren an extreme apology as well as her approval. she prayed you’d forgive your father, to give him grace. 

the last time you saw your father was at your mother’s funeral. and the look on his face remained the same towards eren; disgust. you still loved your father a great deal, but the respect no longer resides. you’d comfort him, check on him occasionally, but keep your distance to protect your peace. after your mother received a beautiful burial, you continued your future with eren. marrying in secrecy two months later. in the aftermath of loss, the two of you found solace in each other. amidst the grief and chaos, your love became a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there could still be beauty. so, in a quiet ceremony surrounded by close friends, you vowed to spend the rest of your lives together. 

as you exchanged rings and sealed your union with a kiss, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. for a moment, nothing else mattered except the love you shared, the future you would build together. a good thing that came out of this was eren’s father getting clean and giving him a letter from his mother he’d kept hidden on his own accord. a title for land she’d purchased just for him to do what he pleased. eren’s father held down the farm while eren decided to build your dream home on the new land. and he stood by his word. 

it was hard for eren to forgive his father, but he appreciated that he wanted to be better. it’d never bring his mother back, nor heal the bruises on his heart, but it was something. once he built this home for the two of you, he’d never have to see him again. it seemed like both of you were running away from your father’s. it was scary how somewhat similar your situations were. you became acquainted with his father out of respect, helping with the farm to pass time as eren focused on building the house with his friends. it helped you clear your mind surprisingly, always adoring animals and gardening. it’s something you wanted to do once the house was ready as a hobby. 

some days were really hard, grieving not only the death of your mother but the separation from your father. you felt bad for the many nights you cried in eren’s arms about it. luckily he didn’t invalidate your feelings. he constantly reassured you that everything you felt was natural, and he had no problem comforting you on your lowest days. and that if anyone understood the pain of losing a mother, it’d be him. he truly was your angel. who would’ve thought a man you’d met at a market one random day would be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. 

eren spent an entire year and a half building a charming little cottage nestled in a scenic countryside setting out of town, about an hour. it’s a cozy, quaint structure with a warm, homey feeling. the exterior is made of white wood, front adorned by a wrap-around porch, blue shutters, and a few flowers in pots. the windows are large and welcoming, bringing in natural light and a lovely view of the surrounding landscape. he’d built your dream kitchen, tall windows overlooking the garden. a bathroom with a clawfoot tub and double sinks. and a library so you could read and write. he did it all. 

you stood beside him, hand resting on the small of his back as you surveyed your new home. 

"this is perfect," you whispered, voice filled with emotion as tears well in your eyes. “it’s everything i’ve ever wanted, eren. thank you.” 

eren turned to you, his eyes shining with love and pride. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. the scent of your perfume mingled with the earthy aroma of nature filling his senses with comfort.

“i meant what i said, i'd do anything to make you happy,” he murmured, breath tickling your skin. he tilts your chin up, gaze locking with yours as he brushes a stray curl behind your ear, the tears falling down your brown cheeks. “you’re the most important thing in my life, and now we get to share this space, these memories, everything. together."

‎‎               𐦍

a storm is raging outside on the day of your anniversary, and it only raises your anxiety for your husband currently working in this weather. you’d set up the dining area to surprise eren, spending hours in the kitchen to perfect the tastiest meal. you’d always be sure to welcome him home with a good meal after hard labor. talks of the storm have been on a loop, playing on the living room tv repeatedly. one of your worst fears was a natural disaster. for it to possibly happen today of all days felt like a big joke. 

you’ve been trying to keep your mind off it, praying for eren’s safety while anxiously nibbling at your cross necklace. you’ve tried to contact him a few times, but gotten no response. assuming he was busy, you left it alone, knowing he’d get back to you as soon as he was available. service was probably terrible out there. within the next moment, as you set the oven to three sixty-five and placed the round cake pan in, the sound of the front door swinging open alerts you. you hear that familiar sound of house keys jangling, and your heart nearly combusts at the realization that your husband made it home. 

the oven mitts come off, and immediately you’re bolting towards the living room; a sweet scent of roses wafting up from the extreme wind blowing into the house and the bouquet in his hand. “where you at, baby? i’m home!” 

his voice calling out to you makes you giggle, echoing through the warm house. a few seconds later, you emerged from the archway, a smile beaming on your pretty face as you ran into his arms, eren chuckling as he caught you and your legs wrapped around his waist. kissing at his face in relief.

“baby, i was so, so nervous. the storms gettin’ worse by the day. i thought you were stuck somewhere. you weren’t answering your phone ‘n i got so scareddd,” you bury your face in the crook of his tatted neck, nearly sobbing as you clutch him tight. 

it’s true, the weather was horrible. trees knocking down, power going out, roads blocked. it happened out of the blue. they’re saying a hurricane is a high possibility. why you’re finding out last minute? who fucking knows. unfortunately, he was on the clock today working at the plant, his highlighted yellow vest adorned on his shoulders as he stepped himself out of his dirty timberlands. luckily they were collectively told to head home early for safety reasons. 

“oh, darlin’, i’m alright. my body’s intact,” he kisses your cheek. “i told you to stop watchin’ the news. it makes you more sensitive.” 

he sets you down slowly, your bare feet hitting the ground while you pout up at him. your curls were tousled as if you'd just rolled out of bed, but you looked beautiful, breath catching in his throat actually. especially dressed up in this dark red two-piece set. cute ruffled shorts and a skimpy bra accentuating your every curve in a way that left little to the imagination. the swell of your ass, hips, and thickness of your thighs that touch swallows the material salaciously. your skin is smooth, always. scented with dewberries and magnolia. 

“fuck, baby,” he breathed, voice low and husky as his hand slips down to grip your ass, spanking you hard as you squeak. “i like this on you. you look pretty.” 

“thank you, baby,” your eyes sparkle with affection. “i wanted today to be special. i made dinner and all. but the storm had me shittin’ myself.” 

“that’s why i gotcha these before the flower shop closed. well, i ordered ‘em ahead of time ‘n miss valerie let me pick ‘em up,” eren hands you the assortment of flowers in his hand, blooming red roses and cream calla lilies swarmed in black wrapping paper. you take them, adoringly jutting out your lower lip more. “happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“you’re such a sweetie, rennie,” you lay your chin on his chest, leaning into him while looking up at him with puppy eyes. “thank you.” 

“mhm hmm,” eren loses focus already, clutching the side of your face before leveling his neck lower to capture your lips in a searing kiss, bottom lip dropping to enclose your mouth with his. 

the kiss is slow and filled with passion, eyes shutting in sync as you moan from his taste. he smelt like he’d done hard labor and the musk of his cologne he’d spritzed at six in the morning, but you loved it. every time. your fantasies just get more disgusting as you age. the heavy toolbelt that’s sliding down his hips, the white crewneck, slightly stained with patches of oil almost eating up his muscles, showcasing his tatted right arm and neck. wedding band around his finger as he holds your face to aggressively kiss your smaller frame. he’s forever hot. 

the savory aroma of dinner wafted up from the oven, momentarily breaking the spell. with a groan, he reluctantly pulled back, eyes never leaving yours. "i smell food.” 

"well, since you've gone through all that trouble, i showed my appreciation properly." 

as you drag him towards the dining room, his gaze falls upon the beautifully set table, the flickering candlelight casting a romantic glow across the darkly lit room. confetti littered the surface, a whimsical touch that added to the celebratory atmosphere. a chilled bottle of wine sat in a silver bucket. he watched you slip on your oven mitts to retrieve the food you were keeping warm. eren surveys the spread, the tantalizing aroma of perfectly steamed lobster claws glistened with butter, while the filet mignon looked pink and juicy. his stomach growls with anticipation, only eating the lunch you packed for him earlier in the day containing birria ramen and pork dumplings. 

“damn, you always do so well. good job, baby,” he marveled, heart swelling with admiration for your thoughtfulness. his praises making your face heat up. he does it so much you’re not sure if he realizes how it makes you feel. "everything looks so good. let me jus’ shower real quick ‘n we can dig in, yeah?” 

“noo,” you protest. eren arches a brow. with a flourish, you poured two glasses, the rich red liquid swirling seductively in the crystal bowls. “love you like this.” 

eren cracks a smirk, sucking his teeth in amusement. “you’re so dirty, girl.” 

"you like it,” you raise your glass in a silent salute. “come eat. i need you thick.” 

“shut it.” 

you scream as he hits your ass playfully, sneaking behind you to kiss your cheek while you snort, eren pulling out your chair like a gentleman so you can sit, soon taking his adjacent to you. for the next hour the two of you enjoyed each other's company, laughing in faces, getting tipsy, love bites and sensual touching . . the usual. eren thanked you repeatedly for how good the food was, soothing old-school rnb playing soundly low in the background while he washed the dishes as you spread chocolate icing on the cake you baked. it was a moment of simple domesticity, a glimpse into the everyday life you’d built together. once the last plate was put away, your husband dried his hands and turned to face you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he watched you sip your wine while you spread the icing spatula over the cake, humming to the tune. 

slowly, he approaches you, coming behind you and planting kisses along your neck, your hand dropping the spatula while your eyes falter shut. his kisses are filthy, his hands groping you to push your ass back onto the outline of his dick now hard in his jeans for a while. he slowly trails a hand up your throat to clutch, pushing you against the counter nearly bending you over fully. 

you moan, rubbing your ass back on him as his hands roam over your body, a wine glass in your hand as you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. you reached beside yourself, fingers trailing lightly down his forearm where his hand slips in between your thighs, groaning on your skin as he rocks his erection against the shape of your ass. a delicate gasp falls from you, setting your wine glass down and hooking your arm behind yourself to hold his head in place. 

“c’mere,” eren licks his lips, your skin prickling with heat as he guides you closer to him by your abdomen, spreading your thighs further apart to slot his fingers into your ruffled bloomers. 

his teeth nip at your earlobe while he grunts and rolls the pads of his rough fingers against your clit, a cute sound emitting from your mouth. your jaw is agape, eren hissing when you tug at his hair the minute he’s sliding his middle fingers into your pussy, stretching you open as his thumb strums your clit, tugging your bloomers down to your knees with the hook of his thumb. instantly, you’re falling apart. moans breaking out in short whimpers and high gasps, grinding into his palm. eren arches over you, free hand palming the countertop which your hand rests over to grab for leverage, wedding bands touching, his breath heavy on your flushed skin.  

"there we go, take it baby,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with desire and encouragement. he leans in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to mingle with yours. 

“babyy,” you’re whimpering, his fingers long and entirely deep inside of you. the loud squelch of your pussy fueling him. 

eren’s fingers scissor and curl to hit that perfect spot inside you, your moans growing louder, hips rocking to match his rhythm. the dual stimulation of his fingers fucking you while he thumbs at your clit has your body trembling with anticipation, the wine in both of your systems heightening every feeling. the desperate clench around his fingers only increases his efforts, pumping his fingers faster and applying more pressure to your sensitive bud.

the sudden insistent knocking at the door shattered the intimate mood. you froze, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes shot open to glance at him, a mix of annoyance and concern etched on his features as you watch his jaw clench. he wants to ignore it, but the worry on your face tells him not to. he’s groaning. 

“the hell could that be?" he muttered under his breath, your mind racing with possibilities. it wasn't uncommon for neighbors to stop by, but during a severe storm? you’d think everyone would be hauled up at home. 

groaning yourself, you fix yourself up, scrunching your face from the uncomfortable feeling of wetness sticking between your thighs. wanting to stomp in irritation, you go to grab a soapy towelette as eren’s too busy licking you clean off his fingers while shaking your head and wiping his hand. 

“do you think it could be the county police? maybe they’re checking to see if everyone’s safe,” you say, going to search for one of eren’s oversized hoodies to toss over your head and cover your body appropriately. 

“could be. i heard a few people’s had their power knocked out. i’m hoping we won’t have to evacuate.” 

eren takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever interruption awaited. with a reluctant sigh, he strode towards the front door once you were ready. as he unlocked it, he made sure to securely have a tight grip on it since the wind was ridiculous out. the last thing the two of you expected was to see a familiar face awaiting, going into shock as you see your father standing on the other side, his gaze sweeping over eren before settling onto you. 

“pastor,” eren greeted him curtly, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the annoyance simmering beneath the surface. he steps aside, letting the man inside so he wouldn’t get knocked over by the raging winds. “come in if you must.” 

eren shuts the door, standing tall next to you. he’s confused why he’s here, hoping his visit wasn’t a thinly veiled attempt to criticize his relationship with you once again. then again, it’s been three years since he’s personally seen him. of course you kept him in your life, just extremely briefly. you stand beside eren, feeling his tension and bracing yourself for an uncomfortable confrontation. pastor kain’s presence fills the room with an awkward heaviness, and you can almost sense the disapproval radiating off him in palpable waves.

“daddy, what are you doing here?" you ask softly, worry and curiosity inked in your voice. 

as pastor kain stepped further into the house, his eyes roamed the space, taking in the evidence of you and your husband’s shared life together. the cozy living room, adorned with photos of you two, hinted at the love and connection you’d built. the faint scent of the dinner you had not long ago, a reminder of the domestic bliss you’d created.

“i was in the neighborhood and wanted to see my daughter. the storm’s really bad, and i got worried. hopefully i'm not interrupting anything.” 

your eyes soften, smiling faintly. "thank you for doing that. i’m glad you stopped by. but you should be home. why were you out in this weather?” 

“had to drop cherry off at the vet, she ain’t doing too good,” your father frowned, the mention of the dog he’d gotten a while after your mother passed makes you sympathize. 

“oh, i’m sorry to hear that. she gon’ be okay?” 

“can’t say for sure. she been havin’ a lot of stomach problems, uh . .” he quickly clears his throat as if to cover up his pain. you weakly smile, rubbing his arm. 

“hey, no need to explain. i’m prayin’ she’ll be okay. it’s nice to see you, um . . eren and i were just celebrating our anniversary. would you like to join us for dessert?” you gesture towards the kitchen where a decadent chocolate on chocolate cake sits on the counter. 

eren watched pastor kain’s expression closely, gauging his reaction to the invitation. when he hesitated, eren couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation. 

“sure, why not?" pastor kain replied gruffly, his gaze lingering on the cake before meeting eren’s eyes. "but just a slice, i shouldn't impose."

eren bit back a retort, choosing instead to lead the way to the kitchen. he motions for the two of you to take a seat at the dining table while he cuts a generous portion for each of you. it's silent until he comes back.

“here you go, sir,” eren says, handing him a plate with a warm smile. 

“ ‘preciate you.” 

eren nods formally, leaning against the counter, observing the interaction between you and your father with a mix of curiosity and caution. 

“how’ve you been? i know last time i saw you, you were attending therapy. is that going well?” you ask. 

“it’s been . . difficult," pastor kain admitted, his voice cracking slightly as he set his fork down. he rubbed the back of his neck, a sign of discomfort or perhaps guilt. "losing your mother was a blow, and then dealing with your decision to . . leave home. .” 

he trailed off, gaze drifting to you before returning to meet eren’s eyes. there was a depth of sorrow in his eyes that he hadn't seen before, and for a moment, eren almost felt sorry for the man. the topic of your mother is still hard for you, eren coming over to sit beside you to entwine his fingers with yours to give you comfort. 

“i miss her every day," pastor kain continued, his voice barely above a whisper. your heart aches to hear your father's admission, and you reach out instinctively to lay a comforting hand on his. despite your differences, you know the pain of losing your mother is something you share deeply.

"i miss her too, daddy," you say softly, voice thick with emotion. "every single day. but, she would want us all to be happy, and live life to the fullest. she told me so after . . everything.” 

the thought of the altercation makes you all shift uncomfortably, hating that night. “we both care about you very much. i know things haven't always been easy between us, but . . i hope we can find a way to mend those bridges."

“that’s another thing i’ve been discussing with my therapist,” he sighs. “we talk about that night often, and somehow it still stirs something . . awful in me. though time has passed, i still don't approve of you disappearing with this man while giving me the short end of the stick with only minimal check-ins."

that makes eren flinch, feeling a sting of defensiveness rise within him. clenching his jaw, he stares intently at your father. just waiting for him to really try it. at this point in time, he gave no fucks about respect. eren knows you can stand up for yourself, but he won’t hesitate to set him straight. 

"leaving wasn't easy for me, you know that, as i’ve said before. i loved mom so much, and i didn't want to abandon you. but i also needed to follow my heart and build a life with someone who accepts me for who i am. you’re still upset about us eloping, alright. but that doesn't mean our love is any less real. i mean, of all days, you really chose to do this today?” 

“i’m not saying your love isn’t real,” pastor kain said, his tone softening slightly as he realized he was already upsetting you. it’s something he’s trying to work on. he sighed heavily, running a hand through his gray hair. “i just miss my little girl. the one who used to sit on my lap during sermons, who helped me prepare for sunday mornings. you grew up too fast, baby girl. left me behind. for this man i barely know.” 

your heart clenches at the raw emotion in your father's voice, and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, getting irritated by your sensitivity. his words still sting, a painful reminder of the distance that has grown between you over the years. eren doesn’t appreciate the way he’s making you feel, easily getting triggered. 

“forgive me for intruding, but i don’t appreciate the disrespect you have towards me or my wife.” eren budges in, his intervention catching you off guard. you face him with wide eyes, silently urging him to tread carefully. while you appreciate his protectiveness, you don't want him to further alienate your father.

"it’s okay, eren," you murmur, placing a calming hand on his chest. he looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“no, it’s not okay, ꒰♡꒱,” eren stops you. “i've grown tired of being disrespected 'n judged based on your father's misconceptions of me. you don’t know me because you haven’t tried to get to.” 

a challenge simmers in the dark depths of his eyes as he stares at your father.  “if you truly care about your daughter's happiness, then you should be supporting her choices, not tryin’ to tear them down with your outdated beliefs.”

“with all do respect, eren, she’s still my daughter.”

“actually, no,” eren jumps back in, his jaw clenching, a hint of steel underlying his words. “this is my wife, and this is our house. if you choose not to respect it then you can kindly see yourself outta that door. i don’t understand your mindset when it comes to knockin’ down your daughter's happiness, nor do i understand holdin’ me accountable for shit i did as a stupid kid.”

“that doesn't change the fact that you stole my daughter from me and married her outside of her faith. it goes against everything I've taught her. and you aren't even a christian, it’s not according to god’s plan."

“where is this even coming from?” you scrunch up your face in disgust, eyes piercing at him. “why are you still being like this after all these years?” 

“i’m not tryin’ to cause an argument. i talked to god and realized i should come forward with issues that are bothering me, and find solace. and that’s what i’m doin’.” 

“by still hurting me?” 

“i’ll say it again,” eren cuts back in. “she’s my wife. put aside your religious beliefs and respect that as a man,” eren scoffs. “we may not have married under oath, but it happened. so deal with it.” 

“i would respect you a lot more if you gave my daughter the proper marriage with her family. especially after her mother died. maybe i’d forgive all your other sins. this goes against her family’s unity,” pastor kain snarls. 

“dad, enough,” your eyes squeeze tight. he’s ruining your day. “this is getting out of hand now. .” 

eren pinches the bridge of his nose, ready to swing at this point. "pastor kain, i understand that my past mistakes have given you a reason to doubt me. but i'm not that same reckless kid anymore, clearly. i've worked hard to build this home for us ‘n keep it. everything i’ve done from the moment i met her to now, has been for her. so here’s what’s gon’ happen. you either start respecting your daughter’s choices and accepting me as part of this family, or you can kindly remove yourself from her life. because i won’t tolerate disrespect towards her, especially not in my home.”

as eren speaks, you instinctively reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, feeling the warmth and solidity of his touch. pastor kain’s expression remains stoic, but you sense a crack in the armor of his rigid beliefs. perhaps, just perhaps, eren’s sincerity and your own steadfastness are beginning to chip away at the walls of resistance. 

“and if you can’t accept me, then maybe it’s time for you to reexamine your own faith and values. because the way you’re treating your daughter, i wouldn’t say it’s christian of you at all. so i implore you, for her sake, let go of your preconceived notions.” 

the air goes quiet for a while, eren staring at your father blankly while you gather your thoughts and caress his hand. it doesn’t take long for your father to push back his chair, the wood slightly scraping the floor as he rises up. 

“i apologize, to both of you. truly,” he swallows, bowing his head. “i’ve made plenty of mistakes i’m not proud of. the biggest one running my daughter away from home. i am trying to do better, i am. my old habits seep out unexpectedly. i think deep down my blessings were always with you two, i just have selfish tendencies. i am deeply sorry, eren.” 

eren isn’t sure if this is a facade, or if the man is being genuine. his lips are pressed into a straight line, nodding once but having no more words. he’d accept it, but the matter of if he was willing to change and show proof remained. 

“right,” he smiles weakly. “and i'm sorry to you, ꒰♡꒱. i’ve never meant to hurt you, granted i have many times. i will continue to repent for my sins. and i hope one day you can forgive me. i will let you two enjoy the rest of your day, i'm sorry to intrude.” 

pastor kain gives one more smile to you both before turning his back away and heading towards the front door. you’re frozen in your spot, your heart telling you to bring him back because it wasn’t safe. 

“we can’t let him go,” you turn to eren, anxiousness written all over your face. “eren, it’s really dangerous out there. what if something happens to him?” 

eren sighs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before standing to follow behind him. his hand is on the nozzle of the door before eren’s speaking up, clearing his throat to rid the still pent up animosity. 

“you can stay the night. i won’t let you travel in that storm.” 

pastor kain breathed in. “no, no. it’s completely fine. i’ve already overstayed my wel—”

“i insist,” eren finalizes, blinking slowly. “꒰♡꒱ will lose her shit if you drivin’ in that. you know she’s terrified of storms.” 

a few minutes pass and your father sits on the living room couch with eren making conversation, surprisingly. you can tell your father is trying to get to know him, and being respectful. you zone out for the most part, this day feeling long and getting to you. you decide to fix him a plate of leftover food you had and making everyone hot chocolate to ease the stress. it’s getting extremely late now, almost near midnight and your father grows tired. 

“we can take the sofa. you head upstairs and get comfortable,” you smile at your father, eren glaring down at you as you hook your arm with his.

eren’s jaw tightens slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly masks his irritation with a polite smile. he knows it's the right thing to offer your father the bed, despite his own desires to share a more intimate space with you. the house was built specifically for both of your comfortability since the two of you had long decided kids weren’t for you, being satisfied without. 

"that’s very kind of you, darlin’," eren says, his voice smooth and measured. “i think your father will appreciate that, huh?” 

“mhm hmm,” you nod sheepishly. “there are clean towels and washcloths in the closet by the bathroom. we’ll be down here if you need anything.” 

“think i’ll manage, baby girl. thank you.” 

your father gives you a sweet hug and a delicate forehead kiss before smiling at eren and giving him a handshake. “thank you.” 

“no problem.” 

eren sighs deeply once he’s fully upstairs, grumbling, ‘gotta take a piss’ before he’s heading to the second bathroom around the hall. you gather extra blankets from the coat closet, cutting off the lights while snuggling into the pillow soft couch watching adult cartoons. it’s been a hell of a day, and you wanted nothing more than to ignore the horrible weather outside and sleep next to your man. the white noise of the staticky television nearly has you drifting off to sleep, that is until thirty minutes later you’re woken up by eren sliding next to you.  

as the two of you settle in for the night, eren pulls you close on the cloud white couch, his strong arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, he whispers softly into your ear, “you alright, sweetheart?” 

you can smell the body wash on his skin, his hair pulled back into a bun as he kisses your cheek and hums, bear hugging you. sighing deeply, you nuzzle your face into his neck, trying to block out the raging rain outside that’s stressing you out on top of current events. “i’m okay. today was really a lot. i’m sorry about that.” 

eren furrows his brows. “now you know you shouldn’t be apologizing for him. he can’t control himself, n’ that’s not your priority. i meant what i said by protecting you from any n’ everybody that brings you negativity. i’m not with that. he needs to respect you, especially in this house.” 

“as well as you,” you bat your lashes up at him, rubbing his chin. “i hate that he talked to you like that. after all this time, i thought he’d change. i knew deep down he still felt some way since he never brings you up when i visit. doesn’t ask me about us . . nothing. i guess it’s a start that he apologized? and made conversation? but to come here saying you w’na check on me, then proceed to disrespect us?” 

eren sighs. “unfortunately, you can’t ever fully change a person. i’ll take the apology, but it’s g’na take a lot more than that for me to even consider him a father in law.” 

you stare longingly at his face. “i am grateful that you stood your ground and protected us. that’s very attractive.” 

eren grins. “you’re my wife, ꒰♡꒱. forever. ima always make sure you come first.” 

graciously, you smile, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “thank you, baby. truly. you’ve been the most beautiful, kindest, loving person in my life. i love that you protect me, take care of me, provide and support me. i love you dearly.” 

“of course, baby. i love you too,” he replies, smudging his nose against yours. “my sweetheart. you mean everything to me. you saved me.” 

“stop,” you frown. “you’re gonna make me cry. yuck.” 

eren nudges his knuckles against your chin with a click of his tongue. “cut that. you’re a strong girl.” 

you hum, turning your head to look outside the window that faces the garden out back, the rain pouring heavier; clouds completely gray in the midnight. it was terrifying, especially hearing the wind beat against the shutters. you squeeze eren closer to you, your nerves getting to you more, goosebumps on your arms. 

“what a helluva anniversary, huh?” eren speaks to distract you, leveling his face over yours to block your view of the outside. you smile at him, knowing he was aware of your fear. 

you tsk, rolling your eyes. “man, from this scary ass weather, to my father’s bullshit . . i’m over it.” 

“hm, over it? already?”

you pucker your lips questionably. “yeah?” 

“it’s not over,” his voice barely becomes a whisper as he leans into you more, lips pressing against yours deeply. 

“eren, i really want to, but we can’t. my dad's upstairs,” you giggle, pushing your face away only for him to grab you and pull you closer to his chest, throwing your left leg over his waist. 

“i don’t care. fuck me.” 

you gasp with a laugh, eyes bulging when you feel his dick hard and heavy on your thigh. “mister yeager, are you naked?” 

“had no choice. my drawls upstairs and i ain’t puttin’ the dirty ones back on.” 

“only ‘cause you wanna touch my coochie,” you laugh, gasping when his fingers begin tugging at your shorts, ass almost slipping out while the rest of his fingers delicately brush along your clothed clit. “w-wait. what if he hears. that’s g’na be so embarrassing.” 

“ain’t he a heavy sleeper?” 

“well, yeah, but—”

“guess you’ll have to train yourself to keep quiet,” he smooches your cheek, smacking your ass hard to tease you, and you lose immediately, moaning loud. he chuckles, your thighs parting to welcome him, mouth agape from the warmth his palms bring, igniting your skin. the blood rushes through you as heat encases your face the instant his hand wraps around your throat, bringing your face closer. 

"didn’t get to finish touchin’ you earlier,” eren breathes heavily, his nose pressing against your neck as his lips glide to your collarbone. “it pissed me off."

“m-me too,” you whine when his thick tongue aggressively licks at your collarbone, a kiss following suit and continuing all over your neck.

"your pussy felt so good on my fingers," eren's hands massage over your thighs, purposely avoiding where you need him most. fingers swallowing the thickness of your thighs and the plush of your ass, smacking to get another reaction out of you. 

"you're teasing," you whimper, rolling your head back while your eyes scroll. “fuck, you know how wet that makes me”. 

" ‘fuckin ‘course i do,” his breath hitches again, moving his face to the other side of your neck, your hand gripping his bicep while grinding your hips to inch closer to his fingers. he tastes your skin again, and it’s lewd, and loud. knowing how sensitive you were there, any intimate sound setting you off.

"stop. teasing." 

eren’s pulling the blankets back, dragging you to stand up and firmly pressing your backside to his chest, just like the position he had you in earlier. staring down at you, he admires the deep red of the set you wore for him. it complements your brown skin perfectly, drawing attention to the fullness of your breasts and the swell of your hips. your thick, curly hair tumbling down your back in soft waves, framing your heart-shaped face and accentuating your plump, inviting lips. he pulls the bloomers completely off, your painted toes stepping out of them, twitching from any touch he gives you. 

“you’re so perfect,” eren whispers, guiding your head back to lie on his chest so you can look up at him, his mouth enclosing around yours to kiss you upside down. his chin holding you still. “you turn me on so bad.”

you bite your lip, looking up at him with hooded eyes as he holds you in place, a strong arm wrapped around you to keep you pinned to his firm chest. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, igniting a fresh spark of desire within you. you can feel his dick pressed against your lower back, evidence of how much he wants you. you shift slightly, grinding yourself subtly back in a silent invitation. your nipples harden under the sheer fabric of the bralette when his hand comes to play with them, straining towards his touch. you part your lips, letting him deepen the kiss as his tongue dances with yours. the taste of you mingles together, a heady aphrodisiac that makes you crave more. you moan softly into his mouth, surrendering yourself completely to the moment and to him.

turning slightly to the side, you detach your lips to spit into your hand, kissing him again as you stroke his dick beside your thigh, his hands embedded into your hips. his dark brows knit, your hand twisting to his liking as he holds your entire face with both hands, groaning low while brushing his lips amongst your own. his teeth go to pull down the strap of your top, latching his mouth onto the skin of your soft tits, jaw widening to suck on the flesh with tenacity.

"can't get over how good this looks on you," eren hums, keeping the other strap on your shoulder for appearance. he spanks your ass again, and you stand up straighter, turning to face him.

“you really like it?” you ask shyly.

his gaze roams over your body with undisguised hunger. “baby, i fuckin’ love it."

it makes your face hotter, slowly twisting in your spot to try to keep your composure. you hated when you felt intimidated by him as if he was some sort of stranger. 

“don’t get shy on me now,” he noticed instantly, cupping your chin before kissing you. “show me that bad girl i know.” 

a coy smile twitches at your lips, eren urging you to hurry with a hand smoothing onto the top of your head as you lower to your knees. he grips your hair dominantly, forcing you to keep your eyes on his. the sight is undeniably godly. he looks almost worn out, shoulders hunched under the weight of a long day's labor, and the marital instinct inside of you wants to make him feel better. his dark hair is mussed, easily falling from the hair tie wrapped in the follicles. there's a rugged attractiveness to his features; the strong jawline, the piercing gaze, the hint of stubble along his chin, the desire in his eyes. scattered across eren’s right arm and neck is a plethora of dark ink, artistically gothic, straight out of a fantasy novel. none of his tattoos had deep meanings. he liked what he wanted and that was all, using his skin strictly as an artist’s canvas. the only one that meant a lot to him was your name tatted across his wrist. 

"tell me to open my mouth." 

eren grunts, your sudden lead stirring something within his abdomen. usually, he’s the one telling you what to do. "open your mouth. now." 

your lips part, obeying without hesitation. "stick your fingers in." 

eren lays two fingers on your soft tongue, slowly stroking until he’s reaching the back of your throat to build up more saliva. you moan in approval, eyes watering but still maintaining eye contact. eren’s brows are knitted, dick hanging from the weight of it. he’s bending forward, spitting on your tongue and prepping your mouth, groaning gravely. you pull your mouth back from his fingers, salvia dripping down your chin. 

“you always do that,” he chuckles, the roughness of it making you squeeze your thighs. 

“ ‘cause you’re nasty,” you smirk, rolling your eyes. eren playfully does the same. “take my head and put my mouth where you want it." 

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” eren comments, gripping your chin to give you a chaste kiss. “talkin’ so pretty.” 

he keeps a firm hold on your scalp, curls tangled within his rough hands as he steadily guides you toward his dick, eyeing you darkly, back slightly bent so he can catch the view of your nose touching his stomach. you make sure to keep your eyes attached to his, dying to watch him submerge into ecstasy. he enjoys the control he has over you. you gag around him, and when he whimpers from the sensation, you can't help but grind in your position, the neediness itching at you. trailing your dominant hand between your thighs, you use two of your fingers to spread your lower lips apart to collect your juices before sinking them into your soaked opening. 

"oh my god," he notices instantly, choking on a moan as your nails dug into his thigh, moaning around him. he's breathing heavily, your teary eyes the trigger. pressure builds inside him now. he evokes a low growl, and his pace picks up even more, and so do your fingers. shifting your hips quicker. “i’m so proud of you, mama. you doin’ me so fuckin’ good right now.” 

eren loses himself in the raw act of claiming your mouth, each brutal thrust forces a corresponding squelch from your stuffed lips, saliva and precum mingling in a lewd display of submission. you continue sucking, your moans vibrating around his shaft as you fuck yourself open for him, juices flowing freely down your thighs. eren's thrusts become more urgent, his grasp on your hair tightening.

“fuck, baby gimme your throat," he whispers, his hips driving forward aggressively. “take it real deep.” 

with a deep thrust, eren hits the back of your throat and holds it there, the pressure building at the base of his dick. your eyes water, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hold your breath, never breaking eye contact, silently urging him on. your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the sheer size of eren's dick fucking your throat. you gag as he fucks your face steadily with his head tossed back, and through it all, you find yourself getting wetter at the depravity of it all. eren's neediness is arousing, his hips rocking into your mouth with so much lust. you can feel his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust, the sound echoing obscenely in the almost quiet room. the tv luckily drowned out most sounds. suddenly, eren's entire dick pulses and throbs within your throat, hot jets of cum erupting directly onto your tongue. you swallow, like he likes, gulping down every drop as he rides out his orgasm, finally stilling to catch his breath.

“fuck,” he wheezed, hips jerking as he carefully pulls his toned hips back to let you breathe, dick twitching and jumping, still hard and needing more. groaning when you kiss the tip and after, his happy trail. “that felt too good, sweetheart. c’mere.” 

eren’s gaze locks onto your face, drinking in the sight of your gratified expression as he picks you up, sitting you on the couch as he lowers his head between your thighs. your knees are hiked up to your chest, your thumb hanging on the corner of your mouth as you stare down at him in bliss. his brain rewires every time he sees her; puffy, warm, and soaking just for him. the anklet you have shimmers as you chew at your thumb and gyrate your hips, waiting for him to touch you with a pleading whine. 

he slides two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping pussy, pumping them carefully as he lowers his face to suckle your clit into his mouth. your quiet moans and cries spur him on, your hand going atop his head to guide him as he eats you out. your hips buck against his face, your body trembling beneath him, back arched and toes curled as he devours you. he's relentless, tongue flattening across your clit as he moves his head to apply pressure, lips kissing and swallowing your clit while his fingers twist and fuck into you. you're panting now, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer while your face screws up in pleasure, hating that you couldn’t scream the way you wanted. 

"mmm, look at that pussy, baby. look,” eren’s grabbing the back of your neck to connect your forehead with his, forcing your gaze to look at the way his fingers move inside of you, soft tummy molding. “fuckk, she’s so sweet. clenching too tight. give her t’me. make it easy.” 

sobbing, you nod your head against his, covering your mouth to muffle your moans as tears well. he curls his fingers just right, hitting that elusive spot far inside that makes your toes curl. grunting, he lowers his face back, burying it into your cunt feeling the scruff of his facial hair creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. he’s opening and encasing his lips around your clit in iterations, sucking and licking hard, spanking your outer thigh while slicking his face up and down, your wetness lewdly known. 

“ooo, f-fuckk, ba—by, agh!” the pressure builds, coiling tighter in your belly until you can't hold back anymore. you cry out, fisting at his hair and the fabric of the couch as you roll your hips harder on his mouth.

“you’re making such a mess, girl,” he talks against your pussy, swallowing down every drop you give him. spanking you repetitively, the act and vibration causing your thighs to clamp around his ears as your orgasm crashes over you. pleasure rippling through your body, your juices flooding eren's mouth as he laps at you greedily, prolonging your bliss.

the shivers come from every part of you, your legs, your arms, and the breath on your lips. wanting to cry from how good it felt along with the frustration of not being able to scream. eren comes up to kiss you, muttering ‘go ‘head’ to let you scream into his mouth, grunting and moaning altogether from the intensity. your legs unable to stop shaking. he’s giving you open mouth kisses, your sounds stirring something sinister within his dick as you suck on his tongue, tasting yourself and groping at his waist to bring him closer to you. 

“atta girl,” he pecks your lips one more time before pulling you to stand again. 

eren turns you around, bending you forward as your thighs press tight together, holding your body up by your forearms pulled back. your upper body hangs, tits threatening to spill from your bralette. eren’s hair is long in his face now, positioning his hips so his dick can slide easily into you without the extra support. a low groan rumbles in his throat when his wish is granted, and you take him full. a ring of white shadowing around his dick with your cream, breathlessly whispering ‘yeah, fuck’ under his breath. feeling his dick makes you whine, shifting your ass back, greedy for more. this feeling never gets old. 

“fuck, yes. squeeze me just like that,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward. you gasp from his roughness, tilting your pelvis to take him fully. the tightness making eren blow a raspberry before throwing his head back. “goddamn, mama.” 

“p-please,” you beg, moving your ass back as much as you could, not having much power over strength at the moment. “need it, baby. fuck me.” 

there was no need for that since he already had the intention of fucking you numb. shifting hips waist, he's rolling into you with ease, your ass clapping back onto his abdomen as he lets out a disgruntled noise that's loud enough to wake the entire house. you squeak, his thrusts rough and steady, fucking you good while keeping you still. heaving, your body falls back into his weakly, having no control over how he wants to use you. thighs adding pressure onto your clit as you mindlessly bounce back on his dick that's splitting you open.

"b-baby. . . too loud," a small panic drawls out, leveling your head to avoid blood rushing to it. eren scoffs, slowing himself momentarily to bring his face by yours.

“i don’t give a fuck, this my house,” he rasps, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your jawline. “do you want me to make you cum or not?” 

he assumed you crying was the answer, responding with ‘mhm’ as a ‘that’s what i thought’.  his dick twitches inside of you, eren doing his best to keep his composure, but you make it nearly impossible. he's pistoning in and out, watching you coat his dick sweetly, voice laced with lust as you spasm around him and cum unexpectedly. he groans while listening to your cries that ripple brokenly, pounding depravedly as pleasure courses through both your veins.

“it feel good cummin’ on my dick?” 

“yess, ‘ren. c-can’t stop cummin’, baby.” 

“gimme some more.” 

you bite your lip hard to stifle the scream threatening to spill, fingers curling into fists as you fight to maintain restraint. sweat beads on your brow from the exertion of keeping yourself still and silent under his relentless onslaught. the coil of tension in your core winds tighter and tighter, orgasm just out of reach. just when you think you can't hold back any longer, eren shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. now, the head of his dick is kissing that sweet spot within you with every mean, intended stroke. a strangled gasp escapes you unbidden as that warm feeling bursts once more, convulsing helplessly in his hold, muscles clenching wildly around his dick as you struggle to muffle your cries behind clenched teeth. your hand pushes at his waist as a signal for some form of relief, moving your body forward. 

“where you goin’,” eren’s yanking you back the moment you try to escape, locking your wrists in his one hand, the other gripping your waist to continue fucking you back onto him. 

“erenn,” your voice cracks, your vision blurring from the intensity. a hiccup falls, your head hanging low as he grounds his dick all up in you. you hear yourself squelch, his sharp hips interacting with the softness of your ass that recoils back. your hands struggle in his hold, crying at the deadlock. but it felt so, so damn good. “f-fuck you. oh my god, fuck you, baby.” 

eren tongues his inner cheek with a snarky chuckle. “that just makes me w’na fuck you harder.”  

the stamina he has gives you a headache sometimes, unknowing of when you end up flat on your stomach lying on the sectional part of the sofa. eren notches the head of his dick between your folds to gather more of your slick before sinking back in, sheathing himself entirely, balls flattening on the curve of your ass. the solid warmth of his body blanketing yours, wrapping his bicep around your neck while he grabs onto the armrest before you two, rolling his hips and dropping his dick into you. 

“no one’s ever g’na do the shit i do to you,” he sloppily french kisses behind your ear, voice growing weak, panting heavier.

“mhm mm,” you agree without words, breaking out to follow the rhythm of his hips.

“your so pretty. say it. tell me you're my pretty girl.” 

tears prick at the corners of your eyes, face flushed, and arousal coiling hot and heavy in your belly, responding greedily to his every action. 

"i’m your pretty girl,” you gasp weakly, voice barely audible. your nails dig into the cushion as you writhe helplessly, full with his heavy dick and held immobile by his superior strength. every ruthless drive of his hips forces the air from your lungs, making you feel floaty.

a choked sob escapes him as he sinks everything into you, your fingers clawing frantically at the upholstery. you try to bury your face in the cushions to muffle your noises as he splits you open, each powerful thrust getting a singular sound from you, but eren had other plans. his big hand covers your mouth, continuously french kissing your neck as he grunts by your ear and rambles the filthiest things. your body does what it’s trained to; react. you cry in his palm, pussy fluttering around him as you cum for what seems like the tenth time, squeezing his dick like a vise. trembling violently beneath him and it takes every ounce of self-control he possesses not to let loose the feral growl building in his throat, knowing it would alert your father of your illicit activities. instead, he grits his teeth and redoubles his efforts, fucking into you his hardest to pursue his own release.

“eren,” even in your lightheaded state you begin to worry. his skin clashing obscenely loud with yours makes it hard for you not to scream after every nasty pound. you can feel him in your stomach, eyes rolling back into your skull as your mouth drops open, gasping in fragments.

“shut that shit up, ꒰♡꒱.” 

whining pathetically, you let him use you as he pleases simply ‘cause there’s no room for bickering. all coherent thoughts flee, leaving only primal instinct and the desperate need for release. with a muffled grunt, he buries himself to the hilt and cums inside you, his grip on your hip tightening almost painfully as he thrusts out every hot drop, shuddering while grinding against your ass to prolong the sensations.

"holy fuck," his voice cracks, rumbling as he hits your ass again and again.

eren slumps heavily atop you, both of you panting and twitching in the aftermath. he rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you're draped across his chest rather than crushed beneath his weight. one large hand strokes lazily up and down your spine as the other tangles in your wild curls, holding you close as he tries to catch his breath.

"you did so well, love," he praises softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and rubbing on you soothingly.  "you're a good girl, i love you so much.”

his voice is warm and approving, filled with the kind of affection that makes your heart swell with happiness. in this moment, cocooned in his strong arms and basking in the afterglow, nothing else matters. this anniversary was just one of many. you were worn out, drifting off to sleep without responding, but he knew you felt the same. eren managed to clean you up in your sleep, dressing you with his hoodie again and snuggling under the warm blankets for the rest of the night.

the following morning, you awake to the smell of brewed coffee and pancakes. wiping your eyes and yawning as you make your way towards the brightly lit kitchen, needing to soak in the bath since you can barely walk. finding your father and eren cooking together while listening to the radio broadcasts. it was the most shocking sight seeing them bond. your father flipping buttery flapjacks and your husband fixing the garbage disposal since something got caught in it. your heart blossomed nonetheless, thinking that this is all you wanted all along. this was the best gift. 

© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡

[sunniques]

— salacious fixation

cw/tw: hoon is mean and manipulative, yandere themes, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, mentions of previous rounds

minors do not interact.

Sunghoon will be the first to admit that he won’t ever fuck the same person more than two times. It’s an unofficial rule he has, and he’s been able to stick by it for so long because he gets bored so easily. He’s never met anyone who’s been able to hold his attention for longer than a week.

This all changes when he meets you.

The moment he saw you taking shots with Jake, he was done for. Sunghoon felt like a creep for watching you all night, but he was physically unable to look away. Everything about you fascinated him. That night, he was only able to exchange a few words with you, but at the very least he was able to learn your name.

Getting to know you isn’t as easy as Sunghoon hoped. For some reason, you kept an annoying amount of distance from him. You always remained polite and cordial—sweet, even. Yet you always pulled away before he could get too close. It drove him insane and made his fixation more intense.

Finally, Jake let it slip one day that you disregarded him so much because one of your friends had a huge crush on him. Apparently you were a girls girl, or whatever. If Sunghoon were anyone else, he might’ve respected that. But he didn’t. At all.

It’s easy to get your friend to invite him over when you just happen to be hanging out with her. Because your friend is so infatuated with him, she’s quick to let him crash what was meant to be a girl’s night. Sunghoon can tell you’re not happy about it, but as always, you play the part of a sweet angel who goes with the flow.

It makes getting you alone that much easier.

“You’re leaving?” You exclaim, feeling your face heat up when you realize how loud your voice got.

“I’m just going to get some drinks,” your friend assured you, not at all concerned that she’s leaving you alone with her very hot crush. “I know you’re shy, but I won’t take a long time.”

You wonder why Sunghoon can’t go with her, or why she won’t let you leave so you don’t have to be a third wheel. Either way, she makes you promise to stay until she comes back, and you foolishly agree. After all, the liquor store is only thirty minutes away, and she assures you that she’ll be back quickly.

It turns out, it only took ten minutes for Sunghoon to have you naked and spread out on your friend’s bed. You feel like such a nasty slut, but somehow that just turns you on more.

According to Sunghoon, everything would’ve been so much easier if you gave into him from the beginning. Of course, it’s way too late for any of that now. He’s going to have to ruin all of your pretty little holes until he gets you out of his system.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sinks his aching cock into your needy cunt. Once Sunghoon feels how tightly you’re gripping him, he knows he won’t ever be able to get enough. He’s so nasty, and it shouldn’t get you as wet as it does. However, all of your rational thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind after your pussy got creampied.

“F-Fuck!”

Your wanton cry is loud, rivaling the lewd squelching and skin slapping filling the room. Tears of pleasure stream down your face as Sunghoon fucks his huge, girthy cock into your tight pussy. Your mixed releases are pushed out of your cunt with every rough thrust and drip onto your friend’s bed, but her hot crush is far from done with you.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” You beg through your tears. “More!”

“Who?”

He sounds so mean and ravenous, but that only turns you on more. Your pussy tightens around him as you stain his cock with more of your cream. No one has ever fucked you so roughly before, but you love every second of it.

“Daddy, please!” You mewl into the mattress, face burning at the name he insisted you call him. “Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon smirks as his large hands grip your ass to spread you open for him. You feel so hot and tight around him that he never wants to stop fucking you. After this, he’ll keep using you over and over until you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his balls.

“God, you’re fucking needy,” his grip is bruising. “Bet you love daddy stretching out this tiny little cunt, huh?”

You nod even though it feels like he’s splitting you in half. It hurts so good, and you know that you wouldn’t stop even if your friend were to walk in on you two right at this very second.

“Can’t believe this cute little pussy is taking my cock,” Sunghoon groans as he helps you bounce back on him. “Thought I’d need to train you a little more. Guess you were just desperate for some cock.”

You moan into the sheets, too fucked out to care about anything except the cock drilling into you and the hot guy it’s attached to.

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Sunghoon coos as his heavy balls slap against your pulsing clit. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Sunghoon groans in satisfaction when you squirt all over his cock. He licks his lips as his hips start to snap. You’re a fucked out mess underneath him, trembling on his cock from absolute pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Get your friend’s sheets all dirty. Filthy fucking girl.”

All you can do is moan like a slut as Sunghoon fuck you like you’re his personal fucktoy. Part of you wants to finish before your friend gets back, but the other part never wants him to stop. Any guilt you felt has melted away. In a way, this was all her fault for not letting you leave when you first wanted to.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” Sunghoon roughly kneads your ass before he roughly slaps it. You jolt and cry out. “You want that, baby? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, daddy!” You moan, as you deepen your arch. “Cum in my slutty little pussy. Want it so bad!”

With those needy words, Sunghoon shoots his hot spunk inside you. The loud moans you let out can be heard by your friend as she unlocks the door to her apartment, but Sunghoon only encourages those pretty noises as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.iv

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

summary: You and Jenna each reflect on your own choices and the growing tensions between you both. Torn between loyalty, responsibility, and personal longing, what does this growing conflict mean for the future of your alliance?

word count: 12.8k

————

"So, victory sex?" Hunter teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Victory sex?" You echoed, genuinely confused. "With who?"

"Who else? Your little Viper girl," he replied, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After dropping Jenna off at home, you'd shot Hunter a quick text, asking if he wanted to come over. After the whirlwind of the race, and the intense feelings stirred up by Jenna, you needed someone to debrief with—someone who knew about the tangled situation you'd gotten yourself into. Fortunately, your mom didn't know Hunter was part of the Sinners, so he was in the clear to hang out without raising any suspicions.

"Come on, Hunter, I barely know the girl."

"Doesn't seem that way to me," he shrugs, taking a seat on your couch and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. "You let her wear your jacket, didn't you?"

Did everyone see that?

You roll your eyes and flop down beside him, letting out a tired sigh. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say." Hunter smirks, but his teasing tone amplifies after a beat. "But there's no way you didn't feel Racer's High after winning."

You didn't need him to define Racer's High. You knew he was referring to that primal, raunchy, adrenaline rush of a feeling that overtook you once you won the race a few hours ago. You shudder remembering how much you yearned for Jenna in that moment.

"So, how are you feeling about it all? The race, the attention... her?"

You hesitate, considering how much to say. You trust Hunter—he's the only one in the crew you can really open up to, but you're also not ready to dive into the whole Jenna situation. Not with everything going on, especially since you're not sure how deep things go with Percy and this "Ghost Smoke" deal.

"I don't know," you finally say, running a hand through your hair. "The race was wild. Winning felt... intense. I get why people get hooked on that feeling."

Hunter raises an eyebrow. "And?"

"And... I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this. Like, there's this whole side to racing I'm not seeing."

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, watching you carefully. "What do you mean?"

You glance at him, trying to gauge how much you can say without tipping too much of your hand. "I don't know, man. I've been hearing things—whispers about this new stuff called Ghost Smoke floating around Brimstone. You heard anything about that?"

Hunter's eyes narrow, and for a second, you think maybe you've pushed too far. But then he exhales slowly. "I've heard the name. It's bad news, Y/n. Real bad. That shit's spreading fast, and people are already getting hooked. Some of the younger guys are sniffing around for it. Why are you asking?"

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "Just heard it mentioned. Thought it might be connected to some of the things I've been noticing. You don't think the Vipers are involved, do you?"

Hunter goes quiet, his face unreadable. Then he leans back, crossing his arms. "I don't know, and I'm not looking to find out. You shouldn't either. Percy's been getting into things outside of racing, and if Ghost Smoke's part of that, it's not something you or anyone else in the crew wants to be tangled up in."

You nod, though his answer doesn't satisfy you. Not because you don't believe him—but because you have this sinking feeling that the situation is bigger than either of you realize.

The conversation shifts after that, and the rest of the night passes with more casual banter. But the unease never fully leaves your mind.

"Looks like Madison's got a thing for you."

You raise an eyebrow, laughing lightly. "Mikey? That girl's never even cracked a smile at me. Pretty sure she barely tolerates me."

Hunter shrugs, smirking. "Nah, trust me. She was asking about you the other day in the garage."

Your brow furrows slightly. Was it because of what I asked about Percy? A small part of you wonders if Madison's caught onto your suspicions.

"And even during the Viper and Raven races, she was giving you these weird looks."

"What does that even mean, Hunter?" You roll your eyes, half-amused, half-worried.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying this too much. "Hell if I know, but winning that race definitely got you on some people's radar."

Maybe at one point, being on the radar of a few girls would've mattered to you, but not anymore.

————

While Hunter crashed on the couch, you spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed. If someone had told you a month ago that you'd be neck-deep in street races and shady dealings—all for the sake of a girl—you would have called them insane.

When dawn finally broke, you shuffled out of bed and headed into the kitchen, finding Hunter gone and your mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

"Morning, Mom," you yawn, stretching your arms out. "Did Hunter leave already?"

"You just missed him. He said he'd be back later," she replies with a gentle smile.

You hum in response, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the warmth. It was in these quiet, mundane moments that you hated the path you were on more than anything. Between the mess with Jenna, the unpredictability with Percy, and the weight of secrets and family legacies, you sometimes wished you could just be normal—not tangled up in rivalries or trying to make sense of feelings you didn't dare admit.

"You've changed," your mother's voice broke you out of your thoughts, catching you mid-sip.

"Changed?" You raise a brow, joining her at the dining table. "What do you mean?"

She sighs, studying you with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You seem... happier in some ways but also more stressed. Something's weighing on you."

You stare down at your coffee, catching your own reflection in its dark surface, letting your mother's words sink in. Of course she'd notice something different—you're her child. But she's right; you have changed. And now, in this rare quiet moment in the chaos your life has become over the past month, you're finally realizing just how much. You've changed so damn much—and the thought terrifies you, especially because you can't even pinpoint when it happened.

Or you do. And that was the scary part.

A month ago Anton told you to find what's your purpose, your drive. What makes your heart race. What's worth risking everything for.

But you'd been so careful, you tell yourself. You abandoned her the first night you met, didn't even share your name—but now, she's got far more than just a name. She's got you feeding her intel, leading her through Brimstone like her own personal guide, pulling you deeper into a world you swore you'd keep at arm's length.

When did it happen? When did you start dropping her home, buying each other jackets, eating ice cream together—and, hell, when did you start racing? Racing, something you'd vowed never to do. And now here you are, about to walk into a private meeting that likely involves drug lords fueling Brimstone's biggest epidemic—all because she needs leverage on Percy. Leverage to protect herself from some mystery he's holding over her, something she still won't tell you.

You try to rationalize. She's got leverage on you, too. She's got footage of you stealing her dad's car. But deep down, you know she'd only pulled that card to hook you in. She wouldn't actually use it. You knew that. You knew her.

Except—you didn't. You didn't really know a damn thing about this girl, yet here you are, throwing caution to the wind for her. Risking everything for her. Breaking your own rules, doing things you'd avoided for the past twenty years...all because of her. And all way too fast.

Maybe it's because you're finally sitting in front of your mom, and to her, you'll always be her little girl. And facing her now, all you can see is the woman who once opened the door to find cops there, telling her that her husband, the father of her nine-year-old kid, was dead. You remember watching her piece together her shattered heart, all while carrying the weight of resentment for the racing that took him. And now, somehow, you're part of it too. How could you put her through this?

"Y/n?"

Your mom's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you lift your gaze from your coffee to her face.

"I've been calling your name for a while now. What the hell is going on with you kid?" she asks concerned.

Everything you wished you could tell her was everything you couldn't. Everything she warned you to stay away from.

"Look I know I haven't been the best mom," she sighs. "But I did it because I care. I'm strict because I know how quickly things can go south in this shithole of a town."

"You're not a bad mom, stop—"

"I can tell there's something on your mind, I don't know if it's good or bad. But I want to know Y/n/n."

Just as you were about to respond your phone pinged and of course it was Jenna.

Hey Oil spillage, just got news that the meeting moved. It's on Friday at 10p.m. now.

Wonderful news. After the realizations you just had, you were not ready to face Jenna again. In fact you would rather anything but see her. And now you can avoid her for six more days. Without replying to her message, you turn off your phone and turn your attention to your mom.

"I guess I've just been thinking about my future and what that looks like." You decide to open up a little, seeing no apparent harm.

Your mom nods slowly, her brow furrowing slightly as she absorbs your words. "And I also have to consider the fact that we're in Brimstone," you add, your voice dropping a notch.

She looks at you intently, searching your face for clues. "I get that this place can feel limiting, Y/n. But remember, it doesn't have to define you. You have the power to change your path."

You take a sip of your coffee, contemplating her words. "It's just...sometimes it feels like I'm caught between what I want and what I should be doing."

"And what do you want?"

"I don't know! I don't know what I want," you finish, softer now.

She squints, registering the tension in your voice. "Then, what do you think you should be doing?"

Racing. The Club. The Sinners.

But you can't say that. Not to your anti-racing mom, but clearly your face says it for you.

"Y/n," she sighs. "There's no place for you in that life."

"You don't understand, Mom! It's easy on paper to say 'stay away.' But people talk. I'm the daughter of a founding member; they expect me to be part of this."

"And how exactly are you hearing all this talk?" she asks, voice tinged with sass. "I thought I told you to stay away from Anton and that whole club."

"I am!" you lie. "But people at the warehouse still talk," you lie again. "Is working in a warehouse really what you want for me? For the rest of my life?"

"If it keeps you out of that club, then yes, a thousand times over. That club killed your father. I don't get your fascination with it!"

"Maybe I like cars! Maybe I want to feel close to him by doing something that mattered to him. You never even talk about him," you say heatedly, pushing yourself back from the table.

"Sit back down," she says, rubbing her temples.

You sit, your frustration simmering.

Your mom's eyes, usually a fortress, softened with a sigh. "You're right, I don't talk about him much. Not because he wasn't worth it, but because it's painful. But let me tell you something about your dad, something I should've told you sooner."

A shadow of confusion crossed your face.

"He was a founder, sure," she admitted, a bitter smile playing at her lips. "One of the Y/l/n brothers who started this whole thing. But that's not the part of the story that matters. Not the part that should define how you see racing."

Your heart stilled, anticipation prickling at your skin. "What do you mean, then? What's the part I'm missing?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on a memory only she could see. "Your dad wanted out."

The weight of her words hung between you, more jarring than the rumble of any engine. The idea of your father—the man who had seemingly built his entire world around speed, thrill, and the camaraderie of the club—wanting to leave felt impossible.

"What do you mean, 'out'?" you asked, the question barely a whisper.

She sighed, running a hand over her tired face. "He didn't start the club for the glory, Y/n. Not for the rush or to become some legend everyone would talk about. He did it because he felt trapped, and for a while, racing felt like freedom. But when things got bigger, more dangerous... he saw where it was heading. He knew it wasn't sustainable. He wanted out before it swallowed him whole."

You stared at her, trying to process this new version of the man you thought you knew. The stories you'd grown up on were all about victory, triumph, the unmatched skills of your father and the empire he helped build. But no one talked about the nights he lay awake, second-guessing the choices that led him there.

"Why didn't he leave, then?"

Her eyes glistened with a pain that seemed older than time, a sorrow she'd carried long. "He did, or... he was supposed to. That last race—the one that took him from us—it was meant to be his farewell. He promised me it would be the last time, that after that night, we would start over, somewhere far away from all of this."

You felt like the ground beneath you had shifted. The race that defined so much of your past, the race whispered about in awe and grief—it had been an ending, but not the kind you ever imagined.

"He was going to walk away?" you asked, your own voice thick with disbelief.

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the weight of old promises and lost dreams shining in their depths. "Yes," she whispered, a tear finally breaking free and rolling down her cheek. "He was tired of what it had become—the danger, the violence, the way it devoured everything good. He wanted out for you, for us. But fate had other plans."

You looked at her, seeing not just your mother but a woman who had lost everything for the sake of someone else's ambition. The image of your father—legendary racer, fearless leader—began to fracture, replaced by the vision of a man who was trapped, fighting for freedom that never came.

"And now," she said, drawing a shaky breath, "you have to decide if you're going to chase his ghost, or choose a different path."

Suddenly, the image of racing, of the thrill that had always called to you, shifted. It wasn't just the adrenaline, the wind whipping past and the engine's roar. It was what lay beneath—the fear, the drive to outrun something that couldn't be escaped.

"So, what does that mean for me?" you asked quietly.

Her fingers tightened around her cup, eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. "It means you decide if racing is freedom or a cage. For your dad, it became both. You don't owe this club anything."

You sat back, absorbing the truth. Racing had always felt like destiny, an inheritance carved into the fabric of who you were. But now, for the first time, it seemed less like a birthright and more like a choice—a choice you'd have to make on your own terms.

"Do you ever... want to get out of here?" you ask, almost too quietly, afraid of the answer. "Out of Brimstone?"

A question you should've asked your mother years ago, but is only leaving you now.

She raises her eyebrows, surprised by the question. It lingers in the air between you for a moment before she sighs, looking out the window to the tired streets beyond. "Sometimes," she says finally. "Sometimes I think about it, yeah. The way this place drags people in, holds them down... It scares me for you, Y/n. I don't want you trapped here. I want you to have options, a life that's bigger than this town."

"Then why do you stay?" you press, voice softer now.

A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face. "It's complicated," she says, her voice tinged with a weariness you hadn't noticed before. "Your father was here. This was where we met, built our lives, and after he... after everything, I felt like leaving would be... giving up on him. Like walking away from the one thing he was part of."

"But you don't owe this place anything," you say, echoing her earlier words back to her. "If it's just a memory keeping you here, then... maybe we both deserve better."

She nods slowly, her gaze returning to you, eyes softer, more vulnerable than you've seen in a while. "Maybe we do," she admits, voice barely a whisper. She makes a gesture with her hand of tapping a cigarette into an ash tray—a habit you noticed since you were a child. Something she does out of nervousness.

For the first time, it feels like you're seeing eye-to-eye, both carrying parts of the same burden—one that isn't really yours to carry. You've both been holding on, afraid of what letting go might mean.

You never thought you had a bad relationship with your mom. You both just worked and worked, trying to make a life for each other. Survival mode felt like autopilot—there was no time for bonding or deep conversations. Showing care meant keeping each other going, making sure you both were okay. Talking like this felt foreign, almost like a new skill you were both trying to learn. You wonder what prompted it, this sudden need to speak the things you both usually left unsaid

"So Hunter told me you had a girlfriend—"

You face palm, "for fuck sakes."

————

"Dude you told my mom I have a girlfriend?"

"She asked me if there was anyone special in your life!" He puts his hands up defensively.

You groan, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you. What the hell are you supposed to tell your mom if she asks about this again? The image of her face pops into your mind. "Hey Mom, here's my supposed girlfriend I met at a race I snuck off to behind your back. Don't worry, she's not a Sinner—she's a Viper, though."

Luckily, Hunter had walked in earlier from whatever he'd been up to that morning, sparing you from answering your mom's question on the spot. Now, all you have to do is figure out what to say when she inevitably brings it up again.

It's still morning as you both settle into your room, falling into the familiar rhythm of your routine. You sprawl on your bed while he spins around in your chair, his energy infectious. Hunter dives into the latest gossip, animatedly sharing every detail, and you find yourself drifting in and out of his words, letting the sound of his voice wash over you.

You phone then starts ringing, and his voice suddenly stops. You glance at the screen, and let out a heavy sigh. You've really got to change her contact name.

"Who is it?" Hunter asks, hopping off the chair and leaning closer to your phone.

"Is she not your fave Viper anymore?" He jokes, sitting at the foot of your bed. "Come on, pick it up!"

You hesitate, staring at the screen as the name blinks back at you. The tension in the room shifts, Hunter's playful smirk fading as he senses your reluctance.

"Seriously? You're just going to let it ring?"

You shake your head, biting your lip. "I—I can't, Hunter. What do I even say?"

He leans forward, a look of mock seriousness on his face. "How about, 'Hey, Jenna, what's up? Oh me? I'm just living my perfectly normal life—definitely not spiraling into an identity crisis because of you?"

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that threatens to break through. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you know I'm right," he insists, nudging your foot with his. "Just answer it! What's the worst that could happen?"

A million thoughts race through your mind, each one heavier than the last. You're scared of what her voice will bring up—the memories, the feelings, the undeniable shift in your life since you met her. "What if she wants to see me again?"

"Uh, hello?" he raises a brow, giving you a look. "Isn't that the best-case scenario? Getting cozy with your fine, rich Summer Valley girl?"

You hesitate again, and the ringing seems to grow louder. Hunter's eyes are wide, filled with mischief and encouragement. "Come on! Just answer it already!"

"Huh, looks like I can't anymore, the ringing stopped," you smile, relieved that the ringing was cut short.

Hunter's expression shifts from playful to incredulous. "What the fuck, man? Why didn't you answer?"

You shrug, but inside, a storm of emotions brews, each thought heavier than the last. Jenna represents everything you're trying to escape, and yet everything you're drawn toward. She's the pull of a world that's dangerous, one you've seen tear lives apart—your life apart. And every second you spend with her, it feels like you're slipping further down a path you might not come back from.

You can't let that happen.

"Because I can't keep doing this," you say, the words coming out softer than you'd intended. Each moment with her feels like a step away from the life you once knew, from the version of yourself that kept your family safe. You're drawn to Jenna, but she's also a stark reminder of how much you've changed, of how close you're getting to undoing everything your mom worked so hard to protect, everything your father was trying to leave.

She makes you feel alive in ways you haven't felt in years. But that feeling comes with a vulnerability you're not sure you can handle. If you keep this up, you'll lose more than just yourself—you'll risk letting down the family that depended on you to be the strong one. The thought sends a cold chill through you.

"I don't think I'm doing the right thing, Hunter."

Hunter lets out a quiet sigh, watching you closely. "You were doing alright last night. What's got you all worked up now?"

You hesitate, the weight of it clawing at you. Saying it out loud feels like crossing a line you can't come back from. "Things just... feel different," you say, voice barely audible. "I've been doing things I never thought I would, getting in deeper than I should. I don't even recognize myself anymore."

Hunter frowns, studying you. "You're not a completely different person just because you're out there racing. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"It's not just about racing." You rub your face, trying to calm the frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Jenna's got this... hold over me. She's made me cross lines I thought I'd never touch. She's tied up in a world I swore I'd stay away from."

Hunter's gaze softens, like he's trying to understand. "Maybe she's just got you seeing things differently. Doesn't mean you're losing yourself."

But that's the problem—you can feel yourself losing your grip, and the need to push her away rises, desperate, like an instinct. You know that the closer you get to Jenna, the deeper you risk sinking into something that could destroy you both. "Maybe it's better if I keep my distance," you murmur, more to yourself than to him. "I can't let this go any further. She's in the Vipers, and that's not a world I can afford to be part of."

Hunter shakes his head, not fully understanding. "So you're just going to shut her out? Because of some fear? Even if she hasn't been around long, what you two have—it's something real—"

"No." You cut him off, a hint of desperation in your tone. "What I have with her isn't real. Not really. We just thought... we could help each other. But that's all it is."

Even as you say it, though, you can feel the lie settle in your chest, heavier than you expected.

Hunter doesn't know the whole story with Jenna and Percy, or how you got roped into digging up dirt on him. You bite your tongue, stopping yourself from saying too much. A part of you wishes you could tell him, though—because if he knew you were supposedly getting mixed up in things like Ghost Smoke, he'd be the first one pushing you to cut Jenna out of your life for good.

"Alright, let me ask you this," he says, leaning forward. "You've had your first race, you were technically a Sinner. But from what you're saying, it sounds like you've made up your mind. So, what—you're sticking to your car hijacking ways, no racing, right?"

You hesitate—even after everything your mom has told you today, and he catches it.

"There's still a part of you that wants it, Y/n. You're not sure, and that's okay. This isn't about you changing; it's about something else. Unless you can look me in the eye and say you're completely done with this racing stuff, I don't see why you have to push her away."

You don't know why either. Maybe this wasn't about racing entirely and how much you've changed. But it feels foolish now to drag yourself deeper into this world after learning your dad died trying to leave it. Point is, you need to step back before you lose yourself completely.

And as much as it hurts to admit, that might mean losing the girl who makes your heart race. Looks like you found what makes your heart race, but not what's worth risking everything for.

————

"So, should I throw the microwave at your head now or later?"

Jenna tears her gaze away from her phone, frowning at her sister. "What are you even talking about, Aliyah?"

Aliyah grins, enjoying the confusion on her sister's face. "You don't remember? You told me ages ago that if you ever fell for someone again—or got caught waiting on a text—I should throw a microwave at your head."

Jenna sighs, the memory of that ridiculous pact making her groan. "Yeah, well... Wait—hold on. I am not falling for anybody!"

Aliyah raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Says the girl who's been glued to her phone all day waiting on a text. Sounds exactly like someone not falling for anybody."

Jenna scoffs, rolling her eyes, but she can't hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm just... checking my messages. It's not that deep."

Aliyah chuckles. "Right. Not that deep. Just let me know when to start unplugging the microwave."

The older of the two shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "You're so dramatic."

"I just know you too well. Face it, sis—you're hooked."

Jenna scoffs, though her expression softens. "It's... complicated," she admits quietly, her fingers grazing the edge of her phone. "She's—" She stops, catching herself. She's. But she's not about to explain all that to Aliyah.

"Complicated?" Aliyah finishes, feigning shock. "You? In something complicated? Never."

"Okay, fine, enough!" Jenna laughs, trying to brush off her nerves. But her sister's words stick with her. She can't ignore the fact that she's thinking about her way more than she should be. And she knows all too well that if Percy found out, it would be a whole new problem.

Aliyah flops onto the bed, scrolling through her phone with a satisfied grin, fully aware that she's already planted the seed.

The Viper tries to focus on something else, anything else, but her mind keeps drifting back. "You're hooked."

Aliyah tilts her head, watching Jenna with a knowing look. "You don't even deny it. Whoever this person is, they've got you in knots."

Jenna rolls her eyes, trying to dismiss it, but the truth settles heavily in her chest. "It's not like that," she says, almost to herself. "It can't be."

Aliyah raises an eyebrow. "Why not? Because of Dad? Or because of that sleaze Percy?"

Jenna's jaw tightens at the mention of the men, and she looks away, fighting the urge to share too much about her mystery Brimstone girl. "Let's just say... it's not as simple as having someone in your life and calling it a day," she says finally.

Aliyah's playful demeanor fades a bit, sensing the weight in Jenna's voice. "Jenna... are you in some kind of trouble?"

For a moment, Jenna considers coming clean, but she shakes her head, forcing a smile. "When am I not in trouble?"

Aliyah's smile falters slightly, guilt seeping through her playful demeanor. She shifts in her seat, Jenna wouldn't even know this kind of trouble if it weren't for her.

Jenna catches the look in her sister's eyes and instantly regrets her words.

"Aliyah, don't," she says softly, the tension in the room shifting. "You know I don't blame you."

"I know, but I can't help feeling responsible," Aliyah whispers, looking down at her hands. The unspoken reality—that Jenna's entanglement with the Vipers was to shield Aliyah—lingered between them, heavier than any words.

"Dad shouldn't have made you—"

Jenna reaches out, squeezing her sister's hand. "We're in this together, remember? Whatever happens, I'm the one who chose to stay."

Aliyah looks up, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But it's not fair. You shouldn't have to carry this for me."

Jenna offers a small, sad smile. "Family isn't about fair. It's about being there, no matter what."

Aliyah's shoulders slump as she bites her lower lip, a familiar crease forming on her brow. The guilt that's been gnawing at her shows clearly in her eyes, and Jenna's heart clenches at the sight.

"I hate this," Aliyah whispers, her voice wavering. "Every time you walk out that door, I keep wondering if you're coming back. And it's because of me."

Jenna's tough facade cracks, and she leans forward, wrapping an arm around Aliyah's shoulders. "Hey, don't go there," she murmurs. The words are steady, meant to reassure, but the tightness in her chest betrays her. For a moment, she lets herself imagine a life free of this cycle—a life where neither of them has to look over their shoulder.

"I won't be stuck for long," Jenna finally admits, a determined edge creeping into her voice. She pulls back just enough to look Aliyah in the eyes, hoping to pass on some of that conviction. "I'm working on something, alright? This isn't forever."

Aliyah searches Jenna's face, her eyes widening with hope and hints of disbelief. "You mean it?"

Jenna nods, "I mean it. I promise."

Suddenly the sadness in Aliyah's expression is replaced with a smirk, "Does she have anything to do with it?" she asks glancing at her sister's phone.

"Don't change the subject," Jenna says, trying to sound stern but unable to keep the corner of her mouth from quirking up.

Aliyah's smirk grows, the earlier heaviness giving way to something warmer, more familiar. "I knew it. Your mystery girl isn't just another risk, is she?"

Jenna rolls her eyes but can't fully suppress a small, reluctant smile. "It's complicated, Ali. She's... well, she's a lot more than I expected."

Probably the biggest risk of all, Jenna thought

Aliyah's smirk softens into a genuine smile. "Good. You deserve more than this mess, Jen."

Jenna's heart tightens at her sister's words. "Yeah," she whispers, more to herself than to Aliyah. "Maybe I do."

Suddenly an idea stirs into the younger Ortega's mind. In a swift motion, her hand darts out and snatches Jenna's phone from the bed. Before Jenna can fully process what's happening, Aliyah is already on her feet, eyes dancing with mischief as she clutches the phone to her chest like a prize.

"Aliyah!" Jenna's voice sharpens "Seriously? Hand it over."

Aliyah tilts her head playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Relax, big sister. Just checking if your mystery girl left a love note or two."

Jenna takes a step forward, trying to maintain her composure as she reaches out for the phone. "I mean it, Ali. Give. It. Back."

Aliyah shifts her weight, effortlessly dodging Jenna's reach as she chuckles. Taking advantage of the height, she holds the phone above her head, reading the chat messages. "Greaser? Pet names already?"

"Aliyah."

"Left on read for almost three hours? And here I thought you had game."

"I don't like her."

"Sure you don't," Aliyah teases, tapping the screen. "Let's see if your non-existent feelings show up when I—"

Before she can finish, the familiar ringing tone starts, and Jenna's heart drops. Aliyah's eyes widen with mock surprise. "Oops. Guess we'll see soon enough."

"Aliyah!" Jenna lunges, grabbing the phone from her sister's hand after the phone rang for a while. Without hesitation, she swiftly hits the end call button. The silence that follows crackles with tension as Jenna clutches the phone, her face flushed.

Aliyah bursts out laughing. "Wow, if that's not feelings, I don't know what is."

Jenna takes a steadying breath, unable to mask the way her pulse races. "It's not like that," she insists, more to herself than to her sister.

She couldn't help but wonder why you didn't answer your phone. You had more than enough time to answer the phone while it was ringing.

————

Two days have passed since you left Jenna's call unanswered. The rhythmic clinking of tools filled the garage as you worked tirelessly on your latest project—the stolen Aston Martin. For the past two days, the garage had been your refuge, the metallic smell of oil offering a sense of your old routine amidst the chaos. In that span, you had buried yourself in work, starting early in the morning and ending late into the night, determined to keep your mind from straying.

You stepped back to study the Aston Martin, now wrapped in a deep green that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. The change from the initial black colour was supposed to help, to make the car feel less like a painful reminder of her. But as you ran your hand over the freshly smoothed surface, sighing at the ghost of memories it evoked, you realized that nothing had changed. No matter how much you worked, every inch of that car still spoke her name.

Your phone buzzed on the workbench, a sharp intrusion that pulled your attention. A name lit up the screen—Jenna's. A message providing you the address of the meeting, nothing else. Seeing her message made your chest ache with a guilt you tried to ignore. You glanced at the glowing screen, your resolve wavering for a moment before you shoved the phone into a drawer, the metallic clang echoing in the small space.

Out of sight, out of mind.

As you smoothed out the last stubborn air pockets on the Aston Martin's fresh wrap, the sound of footsteps echoed in the garage. It was nearly 1 a.m. and no one should be around at this hour.

"Y/n?"

You turned at the familiar voice, eyes narrowing slightly before recognition softened your expression. "Mikey?"

She walked toward you, eyes curious as they swept over the car. "What are you doing here so late?" she asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

You shrugged, forcing a nonchalant tone. "Just working on a car. Needed the distraction. And you?"

Mikey tilted her head, not satisfied with the answer. "I felt like going for a drive. Thought I'd stop by first."

Her gaze shifted between you and the green Aston Martin, catching the tension in the air.

"This is the car you rolled up in with your girl right? What was on the surveillance?"

Ahh yes my girl. Now you need to come up with a believable break up story for the crew.

You clenched your jaw at her question, the mention of Jenna sending a pang through your chest. "Uh, yeah," you muttered, hoping to keep the conversation brief. Mikey's sharp intuition wasn't something to underestimate.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You sigh, "something like that, I don't really want to talk about it."

Mikey nods carefully, and deliberates her next words before speaking, "Did you want to join me on my driv—

"Okay I brought Chinese!" Hunter's voice booms through the garage.

Hunter set the bags down on a nearby workbench, the crinkling of paper and the scent of takeout breaking the heavy silence. He glanced between you and Mikey, sensing the charged atmosphere and shooting you a raised brow.

"Am I interrupting something?" Hunter asked, his usual playful tone laced with curiosity as he tossed a napkin your way.

You caught it mid-air, forcing a smirk to hide the knot in your chest. "Just working late," you replied, shrugging as if that explained everything.

Mikey's expression softened, the slight edge from moments ago replaced with a grin. "Nope, you're just in time. I was about to drag Y/n out for a drive," she said, her voice lighter now, as if trying to pull you into an easier conversation.

Hunter's brows lifted. "Oh? That's a miracle. She's been glued to that car for the last 48 hours" he teased, nudging your arm.

The mention of the past few days made your stomach tighten. You hadn't told Hunter or anyone else why you'd been so buried in work. The truth was, it kept you from thinking about Jenna. The guilt, the confusion—it all seemed simpler when muffled under the sound of engines and the smell of oil.

Mikey leaned against the Aston Martin, folding her arms. "Come on, you've been cooped up in here long enough. What's a quick drive gonna hurt?"

Before you could answer, Hunter grabbed a takeout container and tossed another to you. "Food first, you too Mikey. And then drive second," he said with a grin. "Don't think we'll let you skip out on both."

You took the container, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. Maybe stepping away from the garage—and everything it represented—would be good for you. Even if just for a moment.

You could tell a lot about a person from how they drove, and never in a million years did you think Mikey would be a careful driver. She would teeter on surpassing street limits, but was a relatively relaxed and smooth driver.

The car rolled through the night, the city gradually giving way to quieter roads framed by dark silhouettes of trees. A comfortable silence settled among the three of you, broken only by Hunter's occasional commentary and Mikey's bursts of laughter when he cracked a particularly absurd joke.

"Remember that time you tried to drive with only three wheels?" Hunter leaned forward from the back seat, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You swore it would work."

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head at the memory. "And you were the one who dared me to, you idiot."

Mikey laughed, the sound deep and genuine. "And you actually tried it? That's commitment."

"Or stupidity," Hunter added, and the three of you erupted into laughter that carried through the night, momentarily easing the tension that had wrapped itself around your chest for days.

The conversation meandered through old stories and lighthearted teasing as the car hummed smoothly down the open road. But then, in a pause between topics, Mikey glanced sideways at you, her gaze more serious. "So, do you plan on racing again anytime soon?"

The question hung in the air, a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Before you could respond, Hunter's smirk dropped. He leaned back in his seat, his voice more subdued. "Don't bother, Mads. She doesn't know."

Your eyes flicked to Mikey, watching her reaction. She didn't miss the slight hesitation in your expression, the way your hands clenched. Her brow furrowed, a mixture of concern and curiosity flashing across her face.

"Still figuring it out, huh?" she said softly. "If you haven't made up your mind yet and you're not already back on the track, it's probably a no."

You kept your gaze on the road, the rhythmic whoosh of the wind outside acting as a buffer for your thoughts. Mikey's insight stung more than you'd admit; she was right. Your lack of being back on the track had to mean something.

"Maybe," you said finally, offering no real answer. Hunter glanced between you and Mikey.

Mikey settled back in her seat, a subtle understanding flickering in her eyes as her expression softened. "Trust me," she said, her voice calm yet pointed. "Most racers, when they're trying to get something off their mind, they hit the streets and push their limits. But you? You're here, spending your nights working on a car. That says a lot about where you really want to be."

She was the first person to openly discourage you from racing, and you couldn't help but appreciate it. It felt different, almost liberating—a break from the endless pressure to prove yourself. For once, someone saw the side of you that wasn't caught up in the thrill, and it was a relief.

But there was also that suspicious part of you. Mikey was close to Anton, and she knew how much Anton wanted you in the crew. Does she fear that you'll replace her spot in the club if you join? You brush off your intrusive thoughts and try to enjoy the rest of your drive.

————

Two more days had passed since Jenna had sent the text with the updated meeting address, and the silence on the other end gnawed at her. She leaned against the balcony railing outside her room, eyes skimming the darkened city skyline in the distance each blinking light a reminder of how life pulsed and moved without pause.

The air was crisp, biting against her skin as she shivered, but it did nothing to numb the restless ache in her chest. She scrolled back through the last messages, the words on the screen staring back at her like a mockery of the certainty she'd once felt. It wasn't like you to go this long without responding, but then again what did she know about you? You were the definition of uncertainty, you couldn't figure your own shit out how could you help with hers. She should've seen the red flags for your ghosting tendencies from the first time you met. You had no reason to help her, there was no personal gain.

Aliyah's voice broke through her thoughts, calling from inside. "Jenna, you're doing it again."

Jenna blinked, tearing her gaze from the phone as Aliyah stepped out onto the balcony, eyes filled with concern.

"You're still thinking about her, aren't you?" Aliyah's tone was soft, not judgmental, but knowing.

Jenna sighed, slipping her phone into her pocket as if hiding it would erase the gnawing uncertainty. "I can't help it. Something's off. She's... pulling away, I can feel it."

Aliyah's expression shifted, guilt briefly clouding her features before she masked it with a small, encouraging smile. "Maybe she just needs time. You know how it is—this life, this... chaos we're in. It's not easy."

Jenna met her sister's eyes, searching for reassurance that felt out of reach. "Yeah, maybe." But it wasn't enough. Aliyah didn't know the extent of your relationship. How you were going to help her get dirt on Percy. How you were her best bet.

Jenna had noticed for a while now that Percy was spending a lot more time in Brimstone, and that anything she could find would be found in that shady town.

"I saw the messages with her... something about a meeting? If she won't go with you, maybe I could?" Aliyah ventured, her tone eager but tentative.

Jenna's reaction was immediate, sharp. "Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

Aliyah crossed her arms, a defiant glint in her eyes. "Come on, Jenna. It could be good to do something together for once."

"I'm serious, Aliyah. This isn't up for discussion. It's not safe," Jenna said, her voice firm, eyes blazing with protectiveness.

Aliyah lifted her chin, stubbornness radiating from her. "Too late. I don't care," she declared, turning on her heel and striding out before Jenna could argue.

"Aliyah, wait—"

Jenna's phone pinged, jolting her from the tense silence that followed Aliyah's departure. For a split second, hope fluttered in her chest—a foolish, fragile thing—as she thought it might be you, breaking the days of silence that gnawed at her. But that hope quickly crumbled as she glanced at the screen.

It was from Percy.

Get yourself dolled up. Race tomorrow night. Be there. And you're on my arm. Look the part, don't embarrass me.

Jenna stared at the messages, her fingers itching to throw the phone across the room. He knew exactly how much he got under her skin and used it at every opportunity. And tonight was no different; he needed her there, not just as a racer, but as his accessory, some trophy to drape over his arm. Like she was at the Sinner race almost a month ago. It was a power move, one he'd pulled too many times, trying to keep her bound to him and his schemes.

Another ping. Don't even think about bailing. You know what happens when I'm not happy.

Jenna scoffed, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She could imagine Percy already preening in the mirror, smugly counting on her to show up, loyal and subservient as always. She could almost hear his oily tone, the mock concern he would flash when she hesitated, only to follow it with another thinly veiled threat. Percy loved to remind her how "lucky" she was that he'd given her a place in the Vipers—and what a shame it would be to lose it.

Jenna pushed away from the railing, the metallic chill of it seeping through her skin as she stood upright. The city lights looked dull now, swallowed by the storm brewing in her mind. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a part of her tempted to tell Percy to shove it. But she knew better. Defying him could mean losing her only leverage, the tiny foothold she had in this game of shadows and lies.

With a sharp sigh, she typed out a reply, each keystroke feeling like a betrayal to herself.

Swallowing her disgust, she replied. Fine. I'll be there.

It was almost too easy to imagine the smirk that would be stretching across his face as he read her reply. She could feel her muscles tense, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface, made worse by the fact that she'd lost any sign of you as a reprieve.

The phone slipped back into her pocket, but the weight of it pressed heavier than ever. The ache in her chest turned sharper, a reminder that even though she needed you, even though you were the one who was supposed to stand beside her, the silence between you spoke volumes. She just wished it wasn't so deafening.

Her eyes drifted to the hallway where Aliyah had disappeared moments before. She couldn't let her sister get pulled deeper into this mess, not when it felt like she was barely holding her own head above water. Yet, with every passing moment, the line between protecting the people she loved and keeping them at a distance grew blurrier. And Percy's summons felt like another shove towards the edge she was already teetering on.

Tomorrow night, she'd play the role. But Jenna swore, as she stared out at the city, that she would find a way out of this tangled mess.

Aliyah popped back into the room, her eyes bright but cautious as she took in Jenna's guarded stance. "Hey, so, the family's heading out to catch a movie right now. Are you coming?" Her tone was light, hopeful even, as if she already anticipated the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

Jenna's gaze shifted to her sister, the corners of her mouth pulling into a tight line. The unspoken question lingered between them, though Aliyah's expression faltered as she awaited an answer.

"Is Dad going?" Jenna's voice came out sharper than she intended, and Aliyah's smile dimmed slightly.

"Yeah, he is," Aliyah admitted, her eyes darting down for a moment before meeting Jenna's again, trying to read her sister's mood.

Jenna's jaw tensed as she looked past Aliyah, the weight of years of resentment and disappointment pressing down like a vice. "Then no," she said flatly, the finality in her voice leaving no room for argument.

Aliyah's face fell, but she nodded, understanding etched into her features. She didn't push, didn't try to convince Jenna otherwise. The silence between them grew heavy, filled with all the things they weren't saying.

"Okay," Aliyah said softly, turning to leave. But before she stepped out, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, eyes shadowed with a mix of concern and quiet resignation. "Just... don't stay up all night, okay?"

Jenna forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. I won't."

But as Aliyah's footsteps faded down the hall, Jenna knew she was lying. The night was already hers to wrestle with, haunted by the things she couldn't change and the person she wished she didn't need.

————

Before you knew it, Friday had arrived—the day of the meeting. The meeting you weren't planning to attend. You started your day the same way you had over the past few days—in the garage.

You had been avoiding your phone all morning, afraid of what new messages might appear. Each buzz was a test of your resolve, a reminder that giving in would undo everything you had decided. You needed to stay strong, keep your distance, and not let the past pull you back in.

The project car in front of you demanded all your attention. You poured every ounce of focus into it, the sleek curves of the Aston Martin glistening under the dim garage lights. Tonight, you were determined to take it out for a spin, using it as an excuse to push out the stress gnawing at your mind.

The garage was unusually quiet, lacking its usual bustle. The regulars, including Anton and Mikey, were conspicuously absent, skipping their usual stops at the garage. You welcomed the peace; the last thing you needed was their relentless teasing about the car's dubious origins.

The sound of footsteps broke the monotony, and you didn't need to look up to know it was Hunter.

"Got a minute?" His voice came from the doorway, casual but laced with concern.

You nodded, wiping your hands on a rag before tossing it aside and standing up. "Yeah, what's up?"

"So you're really done with Jenna?" he asks wasting no time.

You couldn't even bring yourself to say the words.

"I'm hoping the drive with Madison the other day doesn't mean yes," he frowns. "I don't think she's right for you."

"Neither do I dude. I never said I wanted anything with Mikey. We literally all went on a friendly drive, nothing more."

"Good, she kind of gives me an off vibe," he shares. "I mean, she's cool and all, but there's just something... I don't know. 

Hunter leans against the workbench, studying you. "But that still leaves Jenna," he says, quieter now. "Are you sure cutting her off is what you really want?"

Your chest tightens, and you look away, focusing on the glint of metal on the project car. "I don't know," you admit. "But staying away feels like the only way to keep things from going up in flames."

Hunter's eyes narrow with concern, but then he smirks, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Just don't forget—sometimes running from the fire only makes it burn hotter when it catches up," he finishes with a wink.

You roll your eyes, but a small chuckle escapes despite the tension in your chest. "Trust you to turn everything into a dramatic line."

————

Hunter left around the 6 p.m. mark and time slipped through your fingers, and before you knew it, the clock had struck 8 p.m. The Aston Martin stood before you, polished and ready. It looked solid, steady—exactly what you needed. Without a second thought, you grabbed the keys, took a breath to steady your nerves, and slid into the driver's seat. Tonight, it would be just you, the car, and the open road.

You eased the car through the streets of Brimstone, your hands gripping the wheel, your mind drifting as you weaved through the winding roads. The town looked different at night—darker, quieter, with the occasional flicker of neon signs casting long shadows on the empty streets. You passed by abandoned buildings, alleyways where the stray figures of drug addicts huddled together, their glazed eyes staring into the nothingness that had consumed them. They barely registered your presence, too lost in their own world.

You drove without a clear destination, allowing the car to take you wherever it wanted to go. The sound of tires on asphalt was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. The rush of the road beneath you, the flicker of streetlights, the occasional blur of other cars passing by—it was all you needed. Just you and the road.

And then your mind went to her. Of course it did. How could it not when you were sitting in this car. You were fooling yourself by thinking a single car wrap can get the job done.

You remembered the day you took this car, how you spilled your guts to her in the midst of your chaos. The way she'd listened—really listened—and kissed your cheek when you dropped her off. The memory was so vivid, you could almost feel her lips on your skin again.

She should be heading to the meeting now. The one you weren't going to attend. The one she was walking into, blind. No idea what it was really about, no clue what she was getting herself into. Alone.

For all you knew, she thought Ghost Smoke was some sort of cereal. But no. You knew better than that. She wasn't stupid. She was smart, and she could handle herself. You tried to tell yourself that, tried to calm your racing thoughts. She could handle herself. She would be fine. Nothing bad would happen.

But even as you tried to convince yourself, the doubt crept back in. The image of her walking into that meeting—unprepared, vulnerable—made your stomach churn. You couldn't help but picture the worst. What if they used her? What if she got caught up in something deeper than either of you realized?

But then, as you took a sharp turn, you found yourself on the road you hadn't meant to be on. The track.

The place where it all went down.

You didn't intend to end up here. Not tonight. But there it was, the race track standing still under the muted glow of the moon, the outline of the old fence barely visible against the darkness. The stories rushed back like a wave—your father, Anton's dad, both gone in an instant after the crash that took their lives. The race had been their last, the night that changed everything.

You slowed as you approached the entrance, the cars long gone. There was no movement, no sign of life, just the emptiness that had followed the tragedy. The track had been abandoned ever since. The Sinners stopped racing there out of respect, unwilling to return to the place that had claimed so much.

You parked the car on the side of the road. For a long moment, you just sat there, the hum of the engine ticking down as the silence of the night pressed in. The weight of the past, of your father's legacy, of everything you thought you knew about this town and the racing world, settled on your shoulders.

You couldn't help but feel the ghosts of the past watching, waiting, taunting you—what are you going to do Y/n?

You shifted the car into drive, the road ahead a blur.

————

"Can you not be mad at me anymore please?"

Jenna rolls her eyes, frustration evident in her posture. "I told you not to come. I seriously can't believe you followed me here."

Aliyah huffs, crossing her arms. "You're in this mess because of me, and god forbid I want to help! It's not like your girlfriend was dying to come with you, so you should at least be grateful I'm here."

Jenna's stomach clenches at the mention of girlfriend, but she holds her tongue. She's too tired for this. She could've corrected Aliyah for the thousandth time, but it wasn't worth the fight now. Better to focus on getting this over with. At least until this little mission was done, she needed to push all thoughts of you to the back of her mind.

You're not here anyway. You're not helping her anymore.

Aliyah continues, clearly trying to lighten the tension, but there's a note of sarcasm in her voice. "Seriously, there's no way you're not happy I'm here. Look at this place!" She gestures toward the imposing, dark warehouse ahead, a shudder running through her as she takes it in. "It's straight out of a horror movie."

Jenna doesn't disagree. The place does feel like something out of a nightmare. She can feel the resentment bubbling inside her, a sharp, unwanted feeling that she tries to push away but can't. How dare you ghost her, leave her to face this alone? If you were here, Aliyah wouldn't be, and maybe she wouldn't feel so exposed, so vulnerable. But you aren't, and her little sister is. The sting of abandonment hangs in the air, heavier than the looming shadow of the warehouse ahead.

Jenna sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing in from all sides. With one final glance at the door to the meeting place, her shoulders slumped in resignation. "Fine," she muttered, voice tinged with exhaustion. "But stay close, stay quiet. Don't do anything stupid."

Aliyah gave a small, relieved nod. "You've got my word."

Jenna leads the way into the dark warehouse, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold, concrete floor. The place is completely abandoned, with broken windows casting faint, eerie light into the room. There's nothing in sight but dust and the lingering smell of stale air.

Aliyah looks around nervously, her eyes darting from corner to corner, but all she can see are the dim shadows creeping along the walls. The place feels like a ghost town, unsettlingly empty.

"Is this really the right place?" Aliyah's voice is low, the uncertainty clear in her tone.

Jenna pauses, squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of the scene. She's not sure why the meeting is set up like this, or why it feels like they're walking into the unknown, but she can't let herself doubt now. "Yeah," she answers, her voice steady but with a hint of something unspoken. "This is it."

They keep walking, the air growing colder as they venture deeper into the warehouse. Aliyah keeps glancing at her sister, confusion written across her face. "What exactly is this meeting about?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern. "I mean, what's going on here? Is this about the club or—?"

Jenna cuts her off, shaking her head slightly, her gaze focused ahead. "Don't worry about it," she says, her tone sharp and final. "Just stay close."

And then, they saw him.

He was standing in the far corner of the warehouse, facing away from them, his silhouette sharp against the dim light filtering in through the broken windows. Dressed all in black, his figure was imposing in a way that sent a chill down Jenna's spine. He hadn't noticed them yet.

Instinctively, both sisters ducked behind a stack of old, dusty boxes, their breath held as they exchanged a look. The quiet tension between them thickened, and in that moment, everything felt so much more real—so much more dangerous.

On the phone, the man spoke with a low, almost mechanical tone. "Yes, boss. I'm the first one here, waiting on the other two."

Jenna made a mental note on the words. So this was a meeting between three people. Percy would be one of them.

Aliyah's voice was barely a whisper. "Do you know who that is?"

Jenna didn't answer at first. Her eyes stayed fixed on the man, analyzing his every movement, trying to make sense of the situation. Finally, she shook her head. No, she didn't know him. But something about this felt wrong—like they were in deeper than they had anticipated.

She reached out, squeezing Aliyah's hand tightly to calm her nerves. "Stay quiet," she murmured. There was no turning back now.

Jenna's heart skipped a beat when the door creaked open, and two figures stepped into the dim light. Percy walked in first, his usual calm confidence unmistakable, but it was the figure beside him that made Jenna's breath catch in her throat.

She remembered seeing him at the Raven race. The night you were racing. What the hell was he doing here? Her mind raced, the weight of the situation crashing down harder than before. Why was he with Percy?  Was he the club leader? This meeting was about something far worse than she could have imagined.

Aliyah's grip on her hand tightened, her eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. But Jenna couldn't look away. She barely registered the tension in her sister's hand, too focused on the strange alliance before her.

Without a word, Percy and the Raven exchanged brief glances before walking further into the warehouse with the mysterious person in all black. The air around them seemed to thicken, the sound of their voices indistinguishable.

Jenna's pulse quickened as her instincts screamed that she needed to get closer, to hear more.

She crouched low, glancing over at Aliyah with an intense, silent plea. "Stay here," she whispered sharply, her voice low but firm, knowing the weight of the situation.

Aliyah nodded, her face pale with fear.

Jenna barely gave her sister another glance before she began moving, silent as a shadow, staying low to the ground as she crept closer to the three men. 

But the floor of the warehouse wasn't as kind as she hoped. Her foot caught on a jagged edge, and in an instant, her body lurched forward, her heart skipping a beat.

Time slowed, the rush of panic surged through her, and in that split second, her heart seized with terror. She was going to fall—she was going to make a noise and blow their cover. Aliyah was going to be in danger.

She braced for the inevitable crash, for the sound of her body hitting the ground and the betrayal of her hiding place.

But just as the world tilted beneath her, strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back from the brink. Her heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She blinked, disoriented, but when she looked up, her world seemed to freeze.

There you were, standing in front of her, holding her steady. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. You were here. You had come for her.

In the six days you had ghosted her, Jenna had planned what she was going to do if she ever saw you again. First was a slap, possibly the silent treatment—a taste of your own medicine. She even toyed with the idea of keying one of your cars. But falling into your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck and letting out a sigh of relief was certainly not part of the plan.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You could feel her breath against your chest, soft and steady, and despite everything, her warmth was exactly what you needed.

Jenna pulled back slightly, her hands lingering on your arms as she looked up at you, her eyes searching for something—answers, maybe, or just reassurance. She was still upset with your disappearing act. "You really are something," she muttered, her voice softer than usual, almost vulnerable.

You couldn't find the right words, not when your heart was racing from the sudden rush of emotions. Instead, you simply nodded, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a quiet acknowledgment of everything unspoken between you. "We'll talk afterwards," you whispered.

She nodded, knowing you both have a bigger issue to deal with at the present moment.  You notice Jenna worriedly glance behind you and you follow her gaze to see another girl you've never seen before.

Jenna noticed the fear that was once on her sister's face melted into a mischievous grin as she looked at her, raising an eyebrow and pointing a finger at you while mouthing, Greaser?

You'll have to figure out who that is later, but for now you take your attention away from the girl who is very close to you, and look up at the scene in front of you. Pissy, the Raven crew leader, and an unfamiliar man.

“Who thought holding the meeting here was a good idea?” Percy muttered, annoyance dripping from his tone as he glanced at the dust clinging to his shoes.

“We can’t afford any slip-ups,” the unknown man replied curtly. “Let’s keep this brief.”

The Raven crew leader smirked, eyes glinting in the dim warehouse light. “We’ve already pushed about fifty keys of Ghost Smoke into Brimstone over the past two weeks,” he said, voice smooth but full of intent. “No hiccups, no heat—just a steady stream. And trust me, the streets are starting to bite. By the time the next batch hits, they’ll be begging for more.”

"Okay, and you Percy? How's the Vipers' distribution going?"

You clenched your jaw as the conversation confirmed your worst suspicions. These guys were flooding Brimstone with product, exploiting the town's vulnerable, turning the Brimstoners into their playthings. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jenna stealthily recording the exchange between the three men, every tense word.

Percy shifted uneasily, a flash of frustration in his eyes. "We've moved about eight keys so far," he said tightly, the disappointment in his voice evident. The number wasn't enough compared to the Raven's progress. "It’s not easy for a Viper to operate on Sinner territory without drawing attention."

"Maybe if you'd stop cozying up to your girl at races and focus on your job, things would be different," the unknown man snapped, his tone biting.

His girl?

"Relax," Percy retorted, his voice strained but defiant. "No one wants Brimstone to become a zombieland more than I do. Some of those Sinners have been getting way too fucking cocky."

Jacob, the Raven leader, let out a low chuckle and placed a hand on Percy's shoulder. "Easy there," he said, smirking at the unknown man. "I can’t blame the guy. It’s hard to stay focused when your girl’s a knockout like that." He finishes with a whistle.

A whispered "ew" sounded behind you, and you felt Jenna tense, a silent fury radiating from her. Anger roared in your chest. Not only were these men scheming to drown Brimstone in Ghost Smoke, but now they were talking about Jenna like she was just another trophy. The rage that simmered inside you sharpened into a razor's edge.

But now was not the time to get angry. You had to remain calm, get all the info you can and get the fuck out of there.

Jacob, the Raven leader, crossed his arms, his gaze sharp as he looked between Percy and the unknown man. “And what if this operation doesn’t go as planned? What happens if someone decides to interfere? I know you tried this once and failed.”

The tension in the room crackled like static. The unknown man’s expression darkened, a slow, menacing smile creeping across his face. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, voice low and chilling. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of Bullet and Apex.”

You freeze.

But before you could fully process the implication, a sudden noise shattered the silence about 15 meters to your left.

“Hey! Who’s there?” one of the men barked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Heart thundering, you whipped your head in the direction of the sound and spotted the familiar mop of curls.

Hunter.

He was crouched low, eyes wide with a reckless determination that sent a jolt of both dread and relief through you. Before you could even react, Jenna’s urgent voice sliced through the fog of panic clouding your mind.

“We have to go,” she hissed, fingers locking around your arm like a lifeline and yanking you into motion. The edge in her voice snapped you back to the present, and your body jolted into action. The girl—clearly someone Jenna trusted—was already sprinting ahead, weaving between crates like shadows. You cast a quick look back, your gaze catching Hunter’s for a split second as he, too, bolted to follow.

This was a fight against time, and survival was the only thing that mattered.

Jenna’s grip on your hand anchored you as you both tore out of the warehouse, feet pounding the ground as adrenaline roared through your veins. The cold air bit at your skin as you charged towards the first car in sight—yours.

“Stop right there!” A shout from behind sent a surge of terror down your spine.

“Hey!” you yelled to the girl ahead. She glanced back, eyes sharp, just in time to catch the keys you tossed her. She was closer to the car, and with no time to spare, she slipped into the driver’s seat.

The three of you scrambled in—a blur of limbs and frenzied breaths. Jenna flung herself into the passenger seat, while you and Hunter dove into the back, your heart hammering in your chest like it might explode.

“Go, go, go! Step on it, Aliyah,” Jenna commanded.

Aliyah didn’t hesitate. The engine roared to life, and the Aston Martin peeled away from the warehouse, tires screeching against the asphalt. The last thing you saw in the rearview was the shadowy figure of the man pursuing you, growing smaller as you sped into the dark night, leaving danger and revelations in your wake.

No one dared to speak. The air in the car was thick with tension, the adrenaline still simmering just beneath the surface. Once Aliyah had put enough distance between them and the warehouse, she eased off the gas, slowing to a steady, legal pace. They were in Summer Valley now, the bright lights of the town casting fleeting shadows across their faces.

Ten minutes ticked by in silence before the red glow of a traffic light gave them a momentary pause. It was then that everything unraveled at once.

“Hunter, what the hell are you doing here?” you demanded, voice tight.

“How the fuck did you go from boosting cars to this?” Hunter fired back, eyes wide with disbelief.

Aliyah leaned back, throwing a teasing look Jenna’s way. “You didn’t tell me Greaser was cute!”

"Since when did you know how to drive?” Jenna shot back at Aliyah.

The car was filled with a low hum of murmured conversations, each person settling into their own thoughts as the road stretched on.

“Did you follow me here?” you asked Hunter, still in disbelief.

“Yeah, I did. And I’m glad I did.” His voice was filled with concern. “What the hell are you mixed up in, Y/n?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m just finding out about all this today, too.”

Hunter let out a frustrated sigh. “We need to tell Anton. They’re trying to destroy Brimstone.”

You exhaled, mirroring his sigh. “Yeah, this is bad. Real bad.”

As soon as Anton’s name left his lips, your mind raced back to the meeting. What the men had said.

Hunter could see it in your eyes—he knew exactly what you were thinking, and the tension in the air between you both grew thicker.

Up front, Jenna’s voice broke the silence. “Okay, yes, I get it! She’s cute. Can you just… shush? She’s right there,” she muttered in exasperation, turning back to her sister, who was practically grinning.

Jenna slouched back in her seat, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. This was not what she expected when she set out to gather dirt on Percy. She couldn’t wrap her head around it—Percy, the same person she thought she knew, was tangled up in a plot to destroy Brimstone. Yeah, he was a jerk, but this... this was murder, drawn out and deliberate.

The crew she had once considered family was directly linked to the distribution of Ghost Smoke, targeting people from the town over.  She knew there was always a rivalry between Brimstone and Summer Valley, but she didn't think it would resort to elimination techniques. The shock of it all left her breathless, the pieces clicking together with an unsettling finality. 

She got her dirt. But this feels far from over.

Despite everything, Jenna couldn’t ignore the pull to check on you. She knew you had to be feeling the weight of it all—learning that your town was the target of such destruction. But there was also the anger. The unresolved frustration from you walking away earlier. She couldn’t just let you back in without confronting it, could she?

But as the drive wore on, the pull to turn back softened, and she glanced at you instead. You were lost in your own world, staring out the window, looking like you’d retreated into yourself. Nothing could touch you right now. And she didn’t blame you. Tonight had been a mess.

She turned her gaze to Hunter, raising an eyebrow, silently asking if he knew how to handle this. He met her eyes, shaking his head in that subtle way that said, Not tonight.

Jenna nodded in acknowledgment, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. She gave a quiet command to Aliyah, who turned the car toward their place. The drive was silent, the weight of everything hanging thick in the air. When the car finally stopped, both girls exited, but Jenna couldn’t help but glance back at you one last time. Her gaze softened, seeing how much this was affecting you. You didn’t look at her once as you stayed seated in the back, your face unreadable.

Somehow, without even realizing it, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Hunter’s car. The shift had happened so subtly that you hadn’t even registered the transition. You assumed once the girls had left, Hunter must've taken over the drive. But the ride felt endless, every minute dragging in uncomfortable silence, like you were trying to outrun the truth without really knowing how.

When Hunter finally pulled into his driveway, the car came to a stop, and the air between you two felt suffocating. No words were spoken for a long moment.

Finally, Hunter broke the stillness. His voice was low, sincere, and filled with an understanding that made your stomach churn. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, his tone full of empathy. “That must’ve been a hell of a lot to take in.”

It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. You could feel the weight of the words pressing down on you like a heavy stone.

Bullet and Apex. Your dad and Anton’s dad, their racing names. You had tried to convince yourself that you had misheard at the meeting, that it was some twisted misunderstanding. But as you turned to look at Hunter, his pitiful eyes told you everything you needed to know. You weren’t wrong.

Your father and uncle’s deaths wasn't an accident. They’d been taken from you on purpose. And now, the truth of that hit you harder than anything else.

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ you shook me

pairing: college student!seungmin kim x f!reader

genre: one-shot, university au, smut

word count: 9K

warnings: student! and teacher! ⋆ switch!seungmin and switch!reader ⋆ choking! ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ small!age gap ⋆ jealousy ⋆ possessiveness ⋆ fingering (f.receiving) ⋆ oral (f.receiving) ⋆ cowgirl!position ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: you were captivating, you were in his mind and his soul, taking a bite of it each time you would glance his way, you shouldn’t excite him, you shouldn’t enjoy getting under his skin, it was so wrong…so wrong that it felt good

author’s note: he wants that cookie so bad

request by @khandzilla

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He thinks, he has a problem and you are it. You are haunting him and it seems like you have under a spell. You are so collected, so put together, it makes him feel dirty to have these thoughts about you. You are supposed to be a person to look up to, idol in his life, not his only thing that he wants to have. You are teaching him what to do, but he can’t hear — see anything other than you. Your words are soothing, yet strong, but he can’t do it. He wants to do good, think good for himself mostly as these years are the most important ones in his life, but it seems like it stopped the moment you walked into the room.

Your body clad in fitted skirt and blouse, the click of your heels silencing whatever noise was being made in the lecture hall. He wasn’t the only one. How could he? You are perfect — an intelligent and well behaved woman that knows the power of her own words. You are so good…in a sense of teaching of course. The way you never stumbled over your words, the time you took while thinking over the question the other students around him asked…he felt sick. Maybe it’s the hormones, natural urges that keep filling his mind with filthy, filthy things.

He kept it to himself mostly, but he remembers every one of your outfits. So elegant and unrevealing it made him lose his mind. You weren’t showing anything, other than your stocking clad legs when you would wear a skirt. Those girls in his class looked primitive next to you, so not put together, still figuring things out and that’s maybe why he liked you so much. You were a woman, a little older, yet still fresh. You always held your head high, but you never were prideful. You were a natural, seductive and he wishes you would claw your burgundy nails into his scalp, so you could see what exactly it is on his mind while he is attending your class.

It really angers him that a simple pencil skirt and a fitted sweater make him so dazed. He swears that he shivered when he saw the red bottoms of your shoes, his favorite, because they perfectly showcased your success in life. You were unreachable, untouchable. The worst part was that you never acknowledged him that much. Just few glances, always making sure to rise his hand high when you were making attendance. You were so good in what you did, teaching, listening. He remembers the time, when he saw his name in your handwriting while you were giving back tests to the other students. He forgot to even write his own name down, too caught up in your pursed lips while you were going over some papers. His name in your neat handwriting never looked better.

It is so unfair — looking like that and also being so unforgiving. His eyes are staring at the paper in his hands, bright red marks all over the whole page. He sometimes wonders if you get pleasure from giving these tests every two weeks. It was for a greater good, you were just making sure that everyone knew what was going on, but this one — this test was the most important one and he didn’t score high…he never did. He wants to say it is because of you, but it is mostly, because of his own mind.

Sighing, his hand runs through his hair, shaking his head at his own stupidity. He feels his friend leaning over his shoulder, a low whistle blowing against his cheek. “That’s not good.” Says, the long haired blonde, making him look at his paper and not to his surprise he did better than him.

His eyes go briefly to you, but his vision is blocked by a bunch of student who are already making their way out of the auditorium to their next class. He always likes to stay a little behind, because it gets stuffy sometimes and mostly he just likes to wait for you to possibly bump into you…on an accident. However like all those times you are way too quick for him, already packing up your things and putting them back into your worn out luxury bag, it only highlights the distended between you two. How could you do this to him? No, how could he do this to himself?

His hand stills in his short, black hair, fingers a little sticky from gel, nails digging into his head. “I just keep getting distracted—“ He mumbles to himself, though his friend catches it quickly.

“I get it — because look-“ Felix gestures to you just as you put your bag over your shoulder. “How can you pay attention with a thing like that.”

He wants to ignore his friend’s words, but it is the truth. You are so distracting and you don’t even do it on purpose, it’s all him. “I’m gonna ask for a redo.” He sighs out, finally moving to put his things away. The blonde immediately smacks his lips, shaking his head at his statement.

“I don’t know, man. She’s kind of strict, doesn’t give second chances.”

Trailing his eyes over your slowly distancing figure, his lips lift up slightly into a smile. “Watch me—“ Standing up, Felix only raises his hands in a shudder, letting him do whatever he wants.

He wished that he could, so many things. He ignores how his heart beats just a bit faster at the thought of talking to you alone. You always spend your small break in your office — was he distracted by you that much? In every other class he thinks he does a pretty decent job, every class other than yours. And yours was to his luck the most important one. He wonders what you looked like in his years, what kind of student you were. A nerd or a party girl? No, you are too uptight for that in some way and it only reminds him the difference between you and him.

The corridor is quiet, other than the few distant voices behind the close doors he passes by. The clicks of a clock makes him count just how much time he spends thinking through his words. You are not strict, you are just great at your job, but he needs just one more chance to prove you that he is somehow the same as you. He could never be as smart as you, but he wants you think of him — think of him. His feet drags him to the door of your office, black, cursive of your name and titles glaring at him. Even just staring at the door, he can feel your energy. Knocking on the door, his hand shakes a little when he hears an immediate ‘come in’, your voice piercing through him.

Your office is a perfect reflection of you — dark, put together, but somehow screaming. Your figure is sat behind your desk placed in the middle of the room, those glasses you sometimes wore on the end of your nose, eyes staring through the lenses right at him. You look like a liquid sex to him, so naturally alluring he has to wonder if you are a siren in disguise. You are definitely leading him slowly to his end, to you. You lick your brown, matte lips, straightening your back and making your breast press against your sweater that perfectly outlines your curves. “Seungmin…here because of your test I presume?” You can read him like a book.

Nodding, he exhales through his nose by hearing his name coming from your luscious lips. Of course you know his name, you have everything memorized, but still the excitement rising in his chest is immense. He is still standing in the same spot. However you are calling to him to come closer, but he thinks if he did, he would do something really stupid. “Yeah…why did I get such a low score?” Seungmin knows why, because the reason is right in front of him. He feels stupid to even ask such question.

You drink in his frozen state, tilting your head just a little at his words. “In the test, I asked all of you to include both your explanations and the sources where you found these answers in the books I assigned you to read — and you didn’t do that.” You keep your voice low, almost sounding like you were scolding him, but he doesn’t seem to picked it up.

Seungmin points at his head, long index finger pressing into his temple. “Here’s my citations—“ Your lips pull into a smile of amusement, the move making his already raised eyebrows hit his hairline.

“It doesn’t work like that, every information comes from somewhere and you knew before hand.” He enjoys your attention that you are giving him right now, but the tone you use makes him embarrassed. “Next time keep that in mind.”

You end the discussion very quickly and when you turn back to your papers, he feels himself taking a little step closer to you. It does make you glance back at him, raising an challenging eyebrow at him. He is getting desperate. “Isn’t there a way I can redo it or something? Please—“ You wonder if he realizes how much his voice got whiny at the end. You almost coo at him, but the way his face scrunches up in frustration, makes you think twice about your decision.

A short, but heavy silence spreads around the room as your unmoving stare stay at his fidgeting figure. “No.” Is your answer firstly and you take a short breath to gather your thoughts, while his shoulder start to fall in disappointment. “I do not except redos, but you can write an essay regarding this topic.” A big wave of relief washes over him, already nodding his head at your request. His enthusiasm does quiver a little at your next words. “You have till Friday.”

“But that’s like in four days—“

You don’t even shrug at him, already going back to your work, but you do hold yourself not to correct his tone with you. Seungmin should feel greatful, but you still had to make it difficult for him. You know about how tight his schedule is, but that really isn’t your problem. You dismiss him by just a quick wave of your hand, flashing your long, manicured nails at him. He watches you for a second longer, before he walks out of your office, releasing a long sigh. He already is starting to feel tired, because he knows he has to do his best in such short amount of time. However he realizes that you have given him something that you have never given before — a second chance.

────

Seungmin’s eyes were droopy, head pounding, dark circles under his eyelashes. He spend these past few days working and working and for a short while you were put into the back of his mind. He had to do good to secure his grade and the memory of your disapproving face made him work even harder. While writing, trying to get every information that was supposed to be in his head already, it in his exhausted state felt like you were looming over his shoulder. Like a phantom, he can’t lie — there wasn’t a minute that he didn’t think of you while working on the paper.

Something that helped him keep his head high was his friend’s facial expression when he told him how you did give him a second chance to prove himself, though the tiredness around his eyes wasn’t unseen. When Thursday came around Seungmin couldn’t take it anymore. He knew that he was too tired to even pay attention, so was it even necessary to be in school anymore? It was the last lecture of the day and he already had a plan to just skip the next day to finish his work. However even in his hazy state, he wouldn’t be able to make up what he saw when he left the room.

The soft click of the door shutting behind him was quiet, hallway usually filled with students now empty other than your standing figure and the other. Professor Bahng was chatting with you, awfully close to you, the pointed tips of your shoes slightly touching his polished ones. You were smiling…he has never seen you so bright before. Your voice was soft as ever and your eyes strained on the man before you, not even catching his presence. He still made his moves minimal, just not to be caught, but even if he tried really hard, he couldn’t hear anything of the conversation. Seungmin couldn’t fight the jealousy from seeing you being so close to someone and when he saw Professor Bahng’s hand rubbing softly at your arm, he had to sneer.

Gritting his teeth, he almost bites his tongue at those shared secret whisper between you two. You were too out of his league, even if Professor Bahng was successful as well he could never handle you. In Seungmin’s eyes no one could possibly deserve such an amazing woman like you, but he himself could try, he thinks. Your painted lips stretched into a smile, mirroring the man before you, before you with a small flip of your hair turn around to walk the opposite way. The man stood in his spot for a minute longer, watching you walk away and Seungmin is sure that he was looking at your ass with that big, stupid smile on his face.

The glare on his face is hard, eyes moving from you to Professor Bahng who walked pass him, not even acknowledging him. In some way, one side of him didn’t want to know what you two were talking about and the other almost made him kick his Professor’s feet so he would fall face first, hopefully wiping that stupid smile off his face. He didn’t of course, too blinded by the waves of different emotions to be able to do anything.

This small encounter made it a bit harder for him to focus, but with the last bits of strength he had left, he made it. When Seungmin send you the email with his work, he felt proud, but still just a little anxious about what you might think of it. He knows that you like to keep your work organized, he knows how quick you are with everything, he knows from the other students how you would always answer in a record time, but…you didn’t. Maybe it was the hour he send it at, but something is telling him that you are basically glued to atleast one device. You were everywhere, but now, it was like you disappeared. He knows it’s nonsense, but you not responding made him rightfully nervous. He kept refreshing his email, but nothing. He couldn’t sleep, whole saturday ruined for him, because he just couldn’t even breathe without your answer. So it made him do a very stupid thing…

A simple knock was all that it took, the noise was loud to his ears, making him snap back into reality. He can’t fight against his own thoughts anymore. This is all inappropriate, borderline creepy of him to do and when you open the door, your face full of surprise, it makes him think of all possible consequences. Your hand is around the door handle, air getting slightly knocked out of your lungs, but you quickly find your composure. You stare in shock at the man before you, eyes going up and down his lean body.

“Seungmin…” You don’t know what to say for a second and by that he slowly starts to regret showing up at your house. “What are you doing here?” You are a little alarmed by his presence and appearance, but by the look on his face it seems like he is surprised himself.

“You didn’t reply to my email.” The words fly out of his mouth, gasping almost.

Your lips parted, body invisible behind the slightly open door to your home. Big red warning sign blares in your head, though your curiosity is taking over. You are rarely surprised by something, someone and him showing up at your doorstep did make you almost double over. His question, more like a statement, hangs heavy in the air and the small hidden meaning behind it is obvious to both of you. You should feel creeped out, maybe frightened, yet excitement rumbles in your tummy. “I was busy…” You trail off, going back to your almost monotone voice, leg just barely peaking out of door. The movement makes his eyes travel down briefly to your stocking clad leg, but it is hidden again quite quickly, atleast he can still see your face. “How did you know where I live?” You finally ask, red painted lips slowly moving around your words.

Seungmin shrugs a little, trying so hard to play it cool. The truth is that finding out where you live was rather easy and he wished that he knew it sooner. “Felix told me.” His answer makes your features form into realization, eyes going briefly behind him to look into the direction of the small house few minutes away from yours.

“Of course…” You mumble lowly, squinting your eyes at him in the darkness. He is for sure bold to show up like this, unannounced, it’s highly inappropriate — that’s the only word that can summon up this whole situation.

When he sees you closing the door a little at his answer, he immediately puts his foot in the small gap left in the doorway, preventing you from closing the door. “No, wait!” There’s a big desperation in his voice and the looks shared with you are slowly turning into something way more different than before. You should scream at him, at least look a little angered, but you are still as ever. You only look at him, blinking slowly and he at that notices your dark eyeshadow, perfectly outlining your siren eyes. “Please, Miss can you look at it? It won’t take long, I promise—“

There’s a shift in the air. Your stare is hard and piercing. Seungmin thinks that he just dug up his own grave by being so disrespectful and maybe he should have just waited for you to answer a little longer, but the waiting is already eating him up. You don’t say anything, but as you open the door wider that is the only answer he needed. However no relief washes over him, on the other hand, cold sweat starts to gather at his hairline when you let him see you fully.

He has never seen you without your so called uniform, but this…he wonders if these kinds of clothes are just permanently glued to your figure. Your usual skirt however is shorter, ending just at the middle of your yummy thighs that are pushed together as you twirl around. It is like you want to show yourself off to him, a large lump forming at the back of his throat, because he knows that if you would bend over he would see everything. You let him get a short glimpse of your overly tight blouse, few buttons undone at the top. Not to mention your darker make up and pulled up hair — he doesn’t regret coming at this late hour to your house at all anymore.

Stepping in your home he gets a whiff of you, the strong, spicy, yet sweet scent you always wear. He is shaking inside, when he closes the door to your house behind him, leaving you all to himself. One thing that is definitely the most inappropriate is your outfit. He just can’t get over it and he drinks up the view of your naturally swinging hips, leading him further inside your clay home.

Seungmin almost trips over his own feet, while taking his boots off, not wanting to disturb your perfectly polished floor. Following the sounds of your heels clicking, he wonders what exactly got you all dressed up at this late hour. There’s no way you actually prefer staying in your work clothes, nor wearing these high shoes in your house. When you lead him through the small corridor to your lightly lit living room, he sees a coat thrown over the couch, your handbag laying on your black coffee table.

“Do you—“ Seungmin trails off, following you with his eyes as you stop at a small desk with a computer. You do take your work home in some way. “Have any plans…Professor?” Watching you pull out a chair for yourself to sit at the table, you finally look at him. How are you so good at making him feel so unseen, while also making him completely drunk of your presence alone?

There is a subtle smirk on your face, that he thinks is only imaginary, when you turn to your computer, your hand under your chin blocking his view. “That doesn’t concern you.” Your voice sounds unbothered by his small prying, but it still pokes at his heart.

“Just trying to make a conversation.” Seungmin says, though he starts to grow concerned about what you might be doing after you dismiss him. All dolled up, surely it’s not only for yourself. His own thoughts are soon answered, just as he goes around your couch closer to you.

You click away on the screen, watching him by the corner of your eye how he goes to sit at the edge of your grey cushion couch and he almost falls backwards with your next words. “Yes…I’m going on a date.” You say it so smoothly and unbothered, while he on the other hand freezes in his seat.

His worries were just confirmed. His hands form into fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands. The raging jealousy fills his field of vision and if you would turn your head to glance back at him, you would see it in his eyes. Were you surprised by him, just because you were expecting someone else? Someone else to talk to you, listen to your voice — touch you? It’s sick, you are older than him, you have the whole right to go out and have fun, then why does he feel so absolutely betrayed. His lips are set into thin line, stare unmoving from you and he already forgot about what is and what is not appropriate. Well, he was just trying to make a conversation…

“With whom?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, tasting your lip gloss. Your fingers move across the mouse, eyes going over the text before you. He is so easy…you have to bite down at your tongue. Your small silence is making him shake and you thrive in it, enjoying it a little too much. Your eyes, body is facing the computer, eyes flying over his work like you haven’t already read it, however he has your full attention. You feel Seungmin’s eyes on your lips, watching you release your bottom lip from your mouth. “Professor Bahng.” Your lips move slowly, tongue rolling and with his eyes, he sees the answer before he hears it.

Heavy coat of rage falls over him, suffocating him with such jealousy he has to hold himself back. The fact that what he saw in the hallway really was something more than just a friendly conversation is making his blood boil. You were smiling at him, agreeing to go to dinner at such a late hour. It is obvious why, but he just doesn’t want to imagine his filthy hands and mouth all over you. “Mr. Bahng? He is like forty!” His voice is loud, but he doesn’t really care about his behavior.

You click your tongue at him, tilting your head into his direction and flashing your glimmering eyes at his fidgeting figure. “And? Age is just a number.” You are inviting him in, with your change of expression and posture. Was his mind already playing tricks on him or were your words laced with a deeper meaning?

Seungmin trails his eyes over you, but you don’t tell him enough to know that he isn’t imagining it. Are you flirting? Maybe it’s just you, he knows that even a simple word from you makes him shake. He hates it, just as much as he loves it. “Maybe it is…” You look back at him briefly, but you don’t give him much of your attention. You are making him go crazy with your unbothered behavior, you for sure have to know the power you have over him. “But you realize that he just wants to fuck you, right?” The words flew out of his mouth so fast, he almost cringed, but to his surprise you don’t scold him.

You actually laugh, the sound short yet real and he melts into the material of your couch. “Yes, I am aware — that’s why I’m going.” Of course his own cheerful demeanor doesn’t last long, because you just love to play with his emotions. The fact you are letting him use such language, letting him in your own personal life is big for him. He thought you would be more careful about what you say, but when you let him in your home, something changed about you. You are no different, still somewhat cold and collected, but with this light burning in your eyes.

“So…you are really just looking for a booty call, Professor?” Humming, he finds it hard to keep it together. His words are not meant to disrespect you, but they are still really, really bold. Such a question to ask your teacher…The whole situation, how you are letting him talk to you like this, made him for a second forget about his jealousy, because you look very much unmoved by the fact that you were getting ready to get bend over. Seungmin feels spit gathering in his mouth at the thought. Your hair pulled back by his hand, makeup smeared across your face, drool running down your cheek — he really is done for. “I thought, you were not the type.” You do look like a proper lady on the outside and with you being his mentor it shouldn’t bother him what your preferred way of having sex was. You are however captivating, he just can’t help himself. He lost the control over his whole body moments ago.

Your clicking stopped a long ago too, just staring blankly at the last passage of his essay, reading the same sentence over and over again. Looking back at him, you think about what to say next. You want to play with him a bit more, maybe embarrass him, but that seems unlikely. Seungmin never once was truly embarrassed by the choice of his words. Even if he looked spooked a little by his own statements, he still was confident and stood by what he said. Maybe he is just lying to you and to himself. His lean body is hovering a little over you, even if you are sitting a little far away from him, but you both know you has the real power here.

You let your own curiosity win again, putting your hands before you on the table and the subtle push of your breast is instantly noticed by him. “What type did you think I was?” Pursing your red lips, your hair falls slightly into your eyes, but you still see the small flash of bashfulness in him.

Shrugging, he tries hard not to tremble at your stare. “I thought you would be already dating someone...” He swallows the lump in his throat, even though he looks quite collected, it’s like you can still see right through him. You watch him closely, how he swings forward and then backwards in his seat, like he will jump into your direction at any moment. He looks a little lost in thought — well, lost in your cleavage. “Also…I think you need something more than a quick fuck—“

You can’t lie that you didn’t look forward to your little date, but it was more of a conference with a promise fling right after. You also can’t lie that Professor Bahng isn’t attractive and yummy in his round glasses, but you are not too into him. The young man before you is basically offering, but still subtly. Your crossed legs tighten around each other a little, you can’t play blind for that much longer. “Language, Seungmin. You are in my house.” You warn him, but the small smirk on your lips is telling him that it doesn’t mean much. “Besides…everyone has needs that they need to fulfill, even if it’s not in a preferred way.” The light coming from the screen of your computer reflects in your glasses, so he is unable to see your small awaiting look.

Seungmin does make you look at him again as he sits up, putting his hands in his pockets. It seems like you are always waiting for something. He loves your mature tone that you always use, even when you have a smile on your face. Your sultry voice is taking over his body quickly and he has to make fists in his pockets to hide it. He shouldn’t feel so hopeful after hearing you say that you are single. He is naturally surprised, but also not — you are a maneater. “You are saying there’s no one?” He voices out his words slowly, emphasizing on that one specific word. He loves having your attention, even when you would get quiet, he is drowning in your aura. He is already shaking with the possibility that is growing right in front of him. He has to remind himself that maybe you are actually the one making a friendly conversation — but then why are you letting him take a few steps closer after his statement.

You look up at him a little, eyes glaring at him through your glasses. He is already closer than ever before, even back in your office, even when you opened the door for him. He never really realized the distance between you two til now — till now when there is almost none. Your voice stops him from leaning on the table, standing before you with eyes staring right into your open shirt. “Your work…it’s good.” You say, looking between him and the screen. “Atleast from what I’m reading—“ You are not necessarily denying that his other passages are not good, you just can’t help yourself.

The fact that he went to your house mainly because of his essay is long forgotten, but he still feels relief wash over him. “Thank you.” Both of your voices get quieter and it’s chilling. The tension can’t be ignored anymore, he knows you feel it too, there’s no way you don’t.

His brown eyes travel over your body, at your pushed up breast and then your legs. The skirt you are wearing is almost at your waist, because of your crossed legs. Even in the dark he can see your muscles spasming just how tight they are pressed against each other. Seungmin mouth is dry, when he looks back at you. You are battling your eyelashes, your pretty, glossy lips looking good enough to eat. He doesn’t hold back anymore, it’s now all clear to him — you want him to make the first move.

You are still sitting in your spot, when he walks around the table to stop right at the corner. He is still leaving some space between you two and he swears your breathing started to got a little faster. This is all becoming so difficult for him and even you — why does the most forbidden things taste the most delicious? You have him wrapped around your pretty little finger. The smile you are wearing is anything, but innocent and the way you twirl around to face him fully is making it hard for him to even breathe. Seungmin leans closer to you, hands still in his pockets and he has to wonder if you can tell why exactly he is doing that. “Are you still going on that date?” He asks and he somehow knows that even this thing and marking his work already flew over both yours heads.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You think something changed my mind?” Your eyes are droopy, tilting your head at him. He has to laugh drily, because you are starting to drive him mad with your tactics.

“Fuck — stop playing with me…” The smile disappears from your lips, but you don’t look any moved, on the other hand you look even more amused. There is something about how you shuffle a little lower on your chair that really sets him off.

You really are just playing with him and he lets you regardless, however he has enough of it. Your breathing is heavier, lips parted, while he watches you uncross your legs. His hovering body over yours didn’t make him feel like was the one above things. Seungmin gasps softly at the sight of your inner thighs, skin still covered by your black stockings, the dark material masking everything to his displeasure. He truly is the one who made the first move, but you make the first touch — with your leg outstretched, you poke at his thigh, heel perfectly piercing his hand in his pocket.

The move makes his knees buckle, sweat gathering at his hairline when you lay your foot flat, pushing right into his bulge. You swear you can feel him pulsating under you. The one prominent vein pressing against the thin skin of his neck is telling you all that you need to know. He’s been hard since the moment he saw your mini skirt, his cock leaking and making an absolute mess. The groan that leaves him is loud, cutting through the thick air in the room. His eyes momentarily close at the relief, cock jumping from your touch, but when he looks back at you, it makes you stop.

Your leg falls down, your touch leaving him way too quickly. Your movements made your skirt just barely graze your upper thighs and he knows if you would open your legs, he would see your soaked cunt. In his hazy state, he has to stabilize himself with a hand on the table, so close to yours. You smack your lips together, him following your eyes that are staring right at the prominent imprint of his cock. “Well, look at you…” Your voice is breathy, feeling your arousal coat your skin from the sight of the dark spot on his pants.

He is trying to catch his breath, fidgeting in his spot and he is using all his might not to touch you without your permission. “I will make you feel good, better than him…I promise, I will not stop till you say so—“ He just barely leans forward, but you stop him with your leg again, now heel digging at his stomach preventing him from coming closer to you, but it is enough to catch a whiff of your perfume.

You are shaking inside from the look on his face. His usual styled hair is fluffy, soft looking and you can’t wait to run your hands through those strands. “You boys, think you will have a woman at your mercy with a small promise?” His eyes close for a second at your tone, knees buckling under him.

“Please, let me…please…” He hates how much control you have over him, but he soon will realize how much it is the opposite. If it meant to finally feel you, oh he will even beg…

You smile at his whine voice, leg moving up and down his lower tummy, heel catching at his belt. “Never thought you would be the type to beg, Seungmin, but it does look good on you—“

Shaking his head, his gaze is slightly hidden behind by his short hair, but it still feels intense as ever. “I can be anything you want, need…” Seungmin is getting desperate, looking like a hurt puppy, but still like a man that is willing to do anything to please a woman.

There’s so much that a person wants, but you want only one, simple thing. “I just want it to be you.” You say, voice clear and letting him hear the permission he so desperately needed.

His legs are already weak, so when he falls to his knees before you, it feels like the only right thing to do. His move makes you gasp softly, leg that was once on his stomach now on his shoulder, but still your legs are closed. “You won’t say anything—“ You say it like a demand, but there is a genuine concern in your voice. This is all so wrong, being attracted to each other — so forbidden. “You don’t want me to lose my job, do you?” The risks you are taking are high, he knows that and he is more than willing to take this whole interaction to his grave.

Seungmin shakes his head, the risk of getting caught is awfully arousing to him in some way. He would do anything to show your date just how much you love someone younger taking over you. He watches you slowly part your legs, the soft light of the room, making your basically uncovered pussy glisten. His mouth falls open at the sight, nothing other than the thin material of your stockings is his way. “Fuck…no way you were going to walk out like that.” He sees your eyes darting away from him and his cock jumps at the small move. You are both gasping when his hands travel up your legs, nails creating tears in your stockings and you don’t feel even a little frustrated. His hands are hot, warming you up and making you melt under him. His long fingers stop at your pubic bone, eyes meeting, just as he tears the middle part of your stockings.

A groan leaves him, mixing with your sharp gasp at his action. His eyes are drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt, left hand that is wrapped around your leg digging into your skin. “He could never deserve you.” With his words his mouth stays open, leaning closer to your center and the only thing that stops him before he could lick a long stripe up your folds is your hand his hair.

“You think you do?” There’s a genuine smile on your lips, feeling you play with the short strands of his hair.

“I’ll work for it.”

With that said he leans to catch the skin of your inner thigh into his mouth. The material of your stockings is tearing around his teeth that nibble at you. You sigh in pleasure, head rolling back as he makes his way up your leg, right to your cunt. You feel your juices sliding down your ass, creating a pool under you and he can’t help but grab his covered cock. He is making a mess just like you and he doesn’t waste any time, finally licking at you and moaning at your raw taste.

Seungmin is pent up and just as much he wants to make you feel good, he wants to make you tremble in the same way you do with him. His muscle lays flat against you, running it over your hole, lips, before stopping at your twitching clit. The soft sounds you make are like honey to his ears, making him slurp all of your sweetness into his mouth. The nasty sounds are making you moan louder, tugging at his soft hair, just as moves his tongue from side to side over your bud.

“Seungmin…” He moans with you, watching just as your head rolls back to meet his gaze. He wants to take his time with you, but seeing your glassy eyes is too much for him. “Oh!” You hum in pleasure when his fingers follow the sticky trail left by his tongue.

His rings click against each other, middle and ring finger circling around your hole. For a woman that made him fall to his knees, you sure are becoming a complete whimpering mess. Your glasses are falling from you nose, red lipstick a little faded from your nonsense biting at your lips. His neck is hurting a little from this position, but the pain is all worth it with the whorish moan you let out when he finally slides his fingers into you.

You are warm, dripping, sucking his digits right in and he can’t wait to fuck you on his cock. He needs it, you have to let him fuck you — he has to prove it you. His fingers curl up, scissoring and trying to find that one spot that makes you shake. He can feel your nerve endings pulsating in your clit as he wraps his lips around it, sucking just right, making you slide down your seat. You help him with his neck pain by putting your leg onto the table, pushing your hips up and he doesn’t even move away from you as you change your position.

His mouth is glued to you, fingers fidgeting till he hear a soft whimper, as his fingertips press against the squishy softness inside you. Your nails dig into his scalp, rutting against him, when he starts to quicken his movements. Your mouth is open, eyebrows furrowed, completely impressed by how good he is at reading your body. “Keep going — just like that, fuck!” He never heard you talk so loud and your curse is echoed, when he feels your walls contract around him.

Seungmin is letting his spit mix with your pleasures, drooling all over you. Your erratic movements are making him dizzy, eyes unmoving from you. He is so lost in you, he literally nibbles at your mound and to his surprise you only pull him closer to you. The squelching noises coming from your cunt every time he would move his fingers is making him ache, his other hand palming at his rock hard cock. A drunk smile spreads across his face when with a particular suck at your abused clit he hears you moan wildly.

You are so close, tasting your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. His fingers are in you so deep, fucking you with them so hard that you feel them in your throat. When a small whimper leaves him, your leg falls down off the table, ass lifting from your seat, your trembling legs wrapping around his head. The sound of your moans is slightly muffled by your thighs, but thankfully he still sees how your eyes rolls into the back of your head. He feels how your pussy tightens around his fingers, how your clit jumps between his lips and he has to take his hand off himself not to cum with you.

Your release coats his face, your legs and the hand in his hair pushes his nose right into you and he just takes it. You are shaking in your seat, moan getting caught in your throat at the waves of undying pleasure. You can’t get enough of it however. Your walls are sucking his fingers deeper, almost reaching your cervix and when your legs fall from his red, ringing ears, it’s clear than you are yet not done with him.

Your hand tugs at his hair, his mouth leaving you with a pop, heavy breaths tickling your soaked center. The look on your face is pure ecstasy, your hair messy, glasses fogged up. You glance at each other for a second longer trying to catch your breath, but then you abruptly stand up on your shaking legs, him slightly helping you find your balance with his hands digging into your thighs. He has to hiss when you tug at his hair again, his scalp stinging, when you pull him up to his own feet. “Sit.” The demand makes him groan, letting you twirl him around and push at his chest to only fall into the same chair he just eat you out on.

Seungmin manspreads on instinct and you bite your lip at the sight of him. He looks so dirty and so ready to let you do anything to him as long as he got to touch you again. You don’t keep him waiting for long, when you go to sit down on his inviting lap. “You are so hard…does it hurt?” Cooing at him, his mouth falls open at the feeling of your bare cunt on his clothed cock.

“Fuck me…” Groaning, his hands immediately find your hips, helping you ground on him. His face is leveled with your tits, before his eyes look up to you, watching you take deep breaths through your lips. His eyes linger on them, looking up at you with big eyes.

“You would like that wouldn’t you?”

It’s evil how you smile so sweetly while moving on top of him like this, each thrust growing harder and harder, the material of his pants rubbing at your swollen pussy. He can feel you soaking him, fingers going up to your waist to hold you closer to him. He would loved that actually — he will lose his mind otherwise. Your perfectly pouty lips are so close to him, breaths mixing together, but you don’t lean in. “I’ve been good…” His voice is soft, swallowing harshly by the addicting rolls of your hips. He can feel everything — your taste on his tongue, your pussy leaking and soaking his pants, your manicured nails piercing his shoulders…

You can’t help it, but moan too, your hand caressing his cheek, thumb pulling at his bottom lip. “Yes…you are.” Your praise is silenced by his lips on yours, tongue already pushing into your mouth. It’s all spit, loud smacks of your mouths echoing around your living room and you think you would be satisfied with just that, but there’s nothing you want to see more than his face when he is finally inside you.

Seungmin’s hands fly to your face, palms pushing and squishing your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. Your glasses dig into his nose a little, hands hungrily grabbing at you while yours do the same, stopping at his belt. Your nails click on the metal and the sound wakes him up a little, helping you unbuckle it. When he feels your hands on the skin of his stomach he is already gone, though something comes over him. “I don’t have a condom—“ Seungmin pulls away from you, trying to catch his breath.

You don’t even stop pulling at his pants, tickling him a little with your touch. “It’s alright, I’m on the pill.” He puffs out air, small shock striking him at your words. Seungmin is literally trembling, not even thinking twice before he lifts you up from his lap slightly to let his cock to spring free. The cold air kisses his leaking tip and he hopes you are liking what are seeing when your eyes travel downwards.

You can’t see much of anything, but wrapping your hand around his length told you everything. He is long, veiny, hot to touch and the short trimmed hairs at the base makes you wonder if this was his plan all along. You however can’t really think straight with the faces he is making already and the painful ache in your core, makes you level his mushroom tip to your entrance. You are so fucking hot right now, it’s suffocating you. Just smearing his precum over your hole has you shaking, gripping tightly onto his shoulder as you slowly slide down on him.

Seungmin chokes at how tight and perfect you feel and he knows that he won’t last long. However that makes you even more aroused. Something about him not being able to handle you, already looking so overstimulated just by feeling you slide in and out of you is so good. “You are so fucking hot—“ His eyes are big, going all over you, while leaning back into the chair to give you more room. Your moves are smooth, hips rolling, rising before bottoming out again. Your slick is sliding down to his balls, the sounds of your bodies colliding together filling his ringing ears. He is breathing heavier, hands dragging across you till they stop at your bouncing breasts, smushing them together.

His touch feels in a way possessive and glancing at his face, the pull at his dark eyebrows is making your legs tremble. His cock hits your cervix every time, soft hair scratching at your puffy clit. Your glasses almost fall from your nose by your erratic movements, but he thankfully catches them before they could fall on the ground. He marvels in your beauty, loving the way your lipstick is smudge across your parted lips and he just knows his are stained as well. He can feel your heart hammering against your chest, his hands grappling at your shirt so roughly you can hear it tearing. You don’t even care anymore — you are going to end up a complete mess either way.

He observes you so closely it’s almost nerve racking. Seungmin’s darkened eyes go to your neck, so bare and inviting, his hand gripping at your hip to jerk his hips up a little. It makes you gasp, stopping for just a split second, but when he does it again your legs gave up around him. The more you stop moving the more he fucks up into you and you have to hold back a loud whine from his hard thrusts.

He curses under his breath, when your head tilts back, body arching into him. Your hair is a complete mess, shirt popped open, letting him see the black lacy bra wrapped around your pretty tits. He almost growls at the thought that he almost let someone else see you like this, make you crumble and cry like this — they wouldn’t be able to. The fact you are basically wearing something he would maybe see you in school is making all of his fucked up fantasies better — now it’s a reality. His senses are so heightened that he can even hear the sound of your heels scraping against the floor, trying to find your balance.

He can feel himself slowly falling over the edge, his own legs shaking from lifting you up to bounce you on his cock. The way your sighs get whiner is making it difficult for him to keep his composure. “You are so fucking distracting with your little outfits — c-couldn’t stop thinking about you like t-this–“ His voice is so shaky, he almost thinks you didn’t even hear him, but then he can see the smile even from your head being turned away from him.

“I know, I noticed.”

A gasp leaves you, eyes shooting open when you suddenly feel his hand on your throat. “Say it again.” With glassy eyes you meet his crazed ones. Your face scrunches up, hand flying over his, but you don’t move it away from you. The pressure he applies next, makes you drool and he catches it with his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

That is probably the most unexpected yet hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. The sudden change of dominance suits him so much, you are not having any trouble at succumbing to it. His mouth his so close to yours that your every word bounces of his lips. “I noticed you…” Mewling your hands fly to grip at his t-shirt, tugging it closer to you to maybe stop him from going so hard on you. When his long fingers tighten even more around your neck, skin burning under his rings, you start to feel the very familiar rumbling in your lower tummy. “S-Seungmin—“ The sound of his name coming from you, while you look so fucked out, makes him crumble.

“Please, cum for me.” Seungmin’s hand around your throat pulls you closer to him, shaking hand squeezing between where your bodies meet to find your clit. “I w-want to fill you up so bad, but I n-need you to cum first.”

He rolls, pinches at your bud, your body jerking up with just his movements and the show of power. The way he can be everything you want, how he can read you, your body and heart makes your last sound of pleasure form into silent scream. You are shaking wildly, sweating as the rope snaps in you, throwing you over the edge. In your state of euphoria, you don’t even hear how his breathing becomes rigid, but you do feel the nearly painful thrust of his hips.

You swear his tip breaches your cervix, the move, making your eyes open, just in time to see his frown of pleasure. A pathetic whimper falls from him, closing his eyes, body slumping against the chair as his cock twitches wildly around you, filling you up with his release. “S-so good–“ You lick your lips as you feel his cum painting you, it was so much that you can almost immediately feel it leaking out of you.

Seungmin head is empty for a moment, trying to catch his breath as he stares with wide eyes at the ceiling. The realization of what just happened — what he did, makes his orgasm feel even better. He feels your body slump forward, falling against his and he shouldn’t smile so much when he sees your eyes peaking up at him. He removes your hair from your hot face, flashing you such a sweet smile that seems laughable after everything that happened. “Will you…go on a date with me, Professor?” His question makes you laugh, smile not leaving your pretty face.

Your own hand pulls his short hair back from his forehead, losing yourself way too quickly at the stars in his eyes. “Call me by my name and sure, pretty boy–“ He grins even wider than before, pulling you up on his body to kiss you. However it does make you both moan in overstimulation, because his cock drags across your walls. With the look you two share next it’s clear that maybe a silly date will have to wait…

[melloollem]

Trash ll|| Bruce Wayne× Child!reader

Summary: In a city where survival is your main objective, you do whatever it takes, including getting involved in Gotham's criminal world.

Warnings: Common comic book violence, weapons, corruption of minors (minors involved in crimes), anguish, guilt, conflicts.

(Chapter l, Chapter ll, Chapter lll, Chapter lV)

(Dc masterlist)

You were dizzy enough not to care how you got here, you couldn't feel your whole body and your mind seemed to be covered in a fog. You were looking around with no real competence when someone opened the door to your room, then a man who had been sitting next to you got up and they started a conversation. Despite your best efforts to listen to them, a loud buzzing sound settled in your brain and soon you gave up, agreeing to just observe the interaction between the two men in front of you.

One of them, the one who had been with you since you woke up, had a white lock in his hair, he seemed a little off when he spoke, he certainly wasn't happy, while the other man, a little taller and older, had a firm face, he wasn't happy either, but he seemed calmer, he had a familiar face, but not familiar enough for you to remember who it was.

For a second the buzzing in your head stopped and you could hear a single word "Jason", this was before a tingling sensation consumed your entire body, as if all your senses came back at once, this made you let out a low squeak, loud enough for the two men's attention to turn to you.

Their conversation was once again out of your reach and a nurse entered the room. An icy sensation consumed your body and mind and, in the next instant, darkness consumed your thoughts.

"He'll be fine, the anesthesia will wear off soon." The nurse's confirmation helped calm Bruce's noticeable apprehension, but had no effect on Jason's obvious tension. "I think you'd better talk outside." Jason didn't take a second to turn his back and head for the hospital corridor, soon to be followed by Bruce.

All the time he was avoiding looking directly into the face of the man next to him, he was sure that Bruce was condemning him for what he had done. How could Jason let that happen? He had almost taken your life.

"The child, he is a henchman, he has no definite boss, he is 11 years old, his mother is deceased and he has no record of his father" Jason listened attentively to Bruce's little report about you, he had already assumed that you were an orphan thanks to the situation in which he had met you.

"How long has he been at it?" The information wasn't really relevant to Jason, but he didn't know what to ask either, he had shot an 11-year-old. "Operating in the criminal world for 1 and 5 months, working as a henchman for 4 months" Bruce was really surprised at how long you'd managed to do this without getting into trouble.

Jason's mind was consumed by all the questions that followed. You were an orphan child entirely involved in the criminal world, he couldn't leave you on welfare and he couldn't let you back on the streets. Jason knew how bad both circumstances were.

"Jason" Bruce's voice pulled him back to the present moment "I know you're blaming yourself for what's happened, but he'll be fine, his current situation is already stable and we'll soon be seeing a home for him" Jason wished Bruce's current words were enough to comfort his soul, but they weren't. Knowing that Bruce had noticed how guilty he looked only affirmed his guilt.

At that moment Jason felt like confessing his sins to Bruce, assuming out loud that the scene of a child's pale face collapsed in his arms with bloodstained clothes was the only thing he'd had on his mind all the days he'd been sitting in that hospital room waiting for you to get better, but he didn't, he was afraid of his father's reaction, he was afraid that for even a single second he would see a look of disappointment on his face.

"Are you honestly thinking of adopting him?" Jason asked, returning to the subject of the conversation before you woke up with the intention of changing the conversation. Jason didn't want to let you go on welfare, but he wasn't in favor of adopting Bruce either. Bruce preferred to leave this conversation for another time, he was more focused on calming his son down from his growing guilt, but Jason clearly didn't want to talk about it now.

"I think it would be a good option to offer him a temporary home, at least until everything settles down" Bruce was skirting around his real intention, he really wanted to adopt him, but he felt it wasn't necessary for Jason to know that. "He'd have a safe place and rehabilitation" The term "rehabilitation" caught Jason's attention, who now had a confused expression. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"He, the child, has a string of violent crimes, has been involved in the planning of many crimes and a suspected murderer, he needs the proper treatment for that" The revelation didn't exactly shock Jason, but it did intrigue him. He knew you couldn't be left with just anyone, your old habits would be a problem, you had to stay with someone who could deal with all the violence you had inside you, someone who could understand your past.

"I know you're against adoption, Jason, but it's the best thing for him and this way you could continue to follow his improvement, I know how much you care about that" Bruce tried to convince Jason that it was the right decision, but Jason knew that regardless of his approval, Bruce would put you in his care "I agree that he needs rehabilitation, but I don't know if you're the right person for that, Bruce".

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Unfortunately I've specified the gender of the reader in this chapter, but if you want, I can change that.

Tag list: @lockofspades @anuttellaa @joudy78bes7er @anime-hair05 @amber-content @camilo-uwu @sparks0918 @redzluvvesage @drdoofenshmirtz124 @suninwalls

[moonstrider9904]

Show Me Those Pretty White Jaws

Crosshair x Female Reader one-shot

Summary: Crosshair is used to getting any woman he wants, but when he can't get together with you, things are bound to get tense.

Word Count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: SMUT 18+. Minors are not allowed here. Pining, jealousy, foul language, alcohol consumption. Love confessions, soft!Crosshair, flirting, being approached at a bar, playboy falling in love trope. The reader is a woman and described with short hair, but no other details are given except for she is also shorter than Crosshair. PiV sex, a bit of sub!Crosshair.

Playlist: Jaws and Rain by Sleep Token i promise you these songs are so crosshair coded and it hurts

One shot masterlist | Main masterlist | Read on Ao3

Dividers by @stars-n-spice

Sweet and smoky whisky filled his senses as he pulled his glass up to his mouth and tilted it to let the burning liquid warm his throat. Ever watchful, the GAR’s finest sniper examined the surroundings from his post on his usual booth facing the whole bar, his back pressed against the cushion where he sat. There in the noisy 79’s bar, there were dozens of faces similar to his, though none quite like him—a factor that greatly stroked his pride. Along the sea of bar goers, various feminine faces and features glanced and smiled at him, many of whom he had already met and taken back to his place. Crosshair never liked a sure thing, however. He liked the thrill of the chase, the excitement of seeking out and then succeeding.

Brown, piercing eyes finally landed on a figure that hadn’t caught his attention before. Your petite frame was angled away from him as you sat at the bar, and all he saw was the loosely-fitting black sweater draping over delicate curves, and short wavy hair stopping above her shoulders. You appeared to be by yourself, though it wasn’t long before Crosshair saw your frame moving as though you were talking, and the bartender finally made her way to stand in front of you, visibly responding to whatever you’d said. There you exchanged words for a moment, and the bartender was then called away by a soldier in need of a drink, but it didn’t seem the conversation between you two had ended for your body angled itself in the direction of your friend, letting Crosshair see more of your features with clarity.

He stopped sipping his whisky. In a quick glance, Crosshair was able to take it all in—the details of your outfit, the pronunciation of each curve of your body, the way the lights of the bar illuminated your silhouette, the shape of your eyes and your lips. There was something about you that made you stand out from the rest of the crowd, a softness, a delicate quality to you that made him wonder why you were at a bar instead of a cozy book shop. But he wouldn’t continue to question your presence there. The fact that you were was all the more lucky for Crosshair, and he resolved to make you his next unforgettable memory.

Crosshair downed the remainder of his drink with one last, swift gulp and set the glass on his table with a clank. He stood up and began making his way through the crowded dance floor; the sheer amount of people there made him grateful he was in civvies rather than his armor, despite the fact that his full armor always did him more favors when it came to impressing a lady. After a certain number of conquests, Crosshair had noticed the attention from a potential mate always seemed to gravitate towards his shoulders, chest, and waist, with the appendage on his left shoulder pad always earning him curious, beady-eyed questions about what it was like to be a sniper, questions he always replied with a seductive smirk and charming play at how lonely of a position it was, one he’d already memorized and learned it never failed—not only was his armor practical for a sniper, but his role as one captivated.

He wasn’t that far away from the bar now. The closer he got, the better he could make out the details of your smile, and finally he was close enough to hear your laughter above the other noise. Just a couple steps away, fate shone on him in the form of you glancing in his direction, and for a moment, Crosshair stopped. Your hair framed your pretty face better than anyone he’d ever seen, and your eyes were the most genuine specs of light in the entire bar, not unlike stars putting a city skyline to shame. Your eyes fell right on his, and as if Crosshair hadn’t been convinced already, your lips curved into a smile, one that showed him your pretty pearly whites and shone with knowing and confidence and a hint of spunk that beautifully contrasted with your overall tender aura, and enticed him to find out where that softness ended to become pure fire. His own lips flashed his signature seductive smirk at you, and though his eyes followed in that intention, his curiosity bled into his gaze, betraying how much he wanted to succeed in at least being worthy of knowing your name.

Dammit, Crosshair was certain he had to have you.

The intense longing lasted for merely an instant before you turned away from him and gave your attention to your bartender friend again, but Crosshair knew the night had just begun. He reached the bar and positioned himself to your left, not making any contact with you at first. The bartender glanced over at Crosshair, and the latter requested another glass of neat whisky. Before obliging to the request, the bartender quickly eyed you and retreated to get a glass, leaving you seemingly wide open for the sniper to make his move.

Crosshair then turned his back to the bar and glanced to his left side over at you with the look he already knew would work—he was gorgeous, and he knew it. He noticed you smirking as though you were holding in a chuckle, and finally, you met his gaze.

“Never seen you here, beautiful,” Crosshair opened, his voice smooth and deep. “Mind if I buy you your next drink?”

“I’d just finished for the night,” you smirked back.

“Ah, what a pity,” Crosshair answered just as the bartender handed him his glass of whisky. Crosshair took it and sipped it without breaking eye contact with you, and then he set it down again. “I hope you’ll stay with me while I finish mine then. You’d be making my whole night.”

You let out a gentle laugh and glanced momentarily at your friend, the bartender, and the sound of your laughter shook Crosshair’s confidence. He decided to push through it, though.

“Five,” you answered.

“Care to let me in on what that means, sweetheart?” Crosshair leaned in slightly towards you.

“Okay,” you got up from your chair and stood next to him, revealing your height to be much shorter than his, a trait he found endearing. “I’m gonna stop you right there. You’re handsome and everything, but I’ve already heard you using that line five times.”

Crosshair raised a brow at you and, silently, sipped his whisky again. “Is that so?”

“It’s not such a big compliment for your opening line to be ‘never seen you here’ when I’ve actually been here many times,” you smirked at him. “I don’t care how many pet names you add at the end of the sentence.”

Crosshair couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he took another sip from his drink. “I knew there was a fire to you. How about you show me what those pretty jaws can do?”

“I’ll bite,” you answered. “Every time I’ve come to this bar to chat with my good friend here, I see you perform the same exact dance, each time with a different pretty face. I know your type, and I’m not going to be another one of your little trophies.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Crosshair hummed, downing his drink and setting his glass down without asking for a refill—if he played his cards right, he wouldn’t need another one. He leaned down slightly closer to you, looming over you with a seductive glint in his eye. “You know what’s going on here, and I like it when a girl packs a brain.”

“Is that so?” You smirked at him, tilting your head to give your eyes an enticing look.

“Yeah,” Crosshair’s airy voice softened, betraying him once again as it let you know just how much he desired you. “Now, wouldn’t we be perfect together, sweetheart? Just tell me your name.”

Crosshair’s hand slowly, almost doubtfully, made its way up to your chin, his touch soft in a way that would let you swat him away if you wanted to, but finally his fingertips made contact with your skin. As he tilted your face up to him, your endearing smile widened, and your body wiggled so softly he wasn’t sure if you’d done it on purpose or not, but he loved the way you moved. Your smile made it hauntingly clear to him—he was done for. He’d replay that image in his mind for years to come. Then, your eyes met his again, and Crosshair noticed that you were angling yourself closer to him, painfully slowly, and he matched your pace in leaning down closer to you. He was sure he’d won, and any second now he’d feel your lips against his, he’d learn what your name was and pronounce those syllables in his mind repeatedly until he could have you in his arms and his body with yours, and he’d continue to do so since.

Instead, you pressed an index finger to his lips, and your seductive look was replaced by one of knowing, even a little mischief.

“Not gonna happen,” you whispered, and you pressed your hand towards his chest, pushing him away from you enough to walk past him and leave.

An army led by a tactical droid had never caught him as off guard as you just had, and the disappointment was visible in Crosshair’s features. He closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows together with evident regret, and a sharp exhale accompanied his strain. All that was left for him to do when his eyes opened was to watch you leave, but you’d bolted so fast that he wouldn’t be able to do that.

“Damn,” a voice filled his ears.

It was your friend, the bartender, staring at him and visibly struggling to contain laughter.

“What?” Crosshair hissed.

“Can tell that one hurt. You’ve been rejected before, mate,” they said. “Never seen you make that face.”

The bartender then poured another glass of Crosshair’s favorite whisky and set it on the bar in front of him. Crosshair couldn’t help but direct a puzzled look at them.

“That one’s on the house,” the bartender stated. “My condolences.”

Crosshair was unamused by the bartender’s banter—the fact that they were your friend gave him the awful premonition that you’d be hearing about this in the future—but he accepted the free whisky and downed it all in one gulp as if it were a shot. He placed the empty glass on the bar and returned to his usual booth, alone, disgusted at his failure and at the fact that he knew he wouldn’t get your gaze out of his mind for the rest of the night.

He wasn’t able to do it for the many nights that followed.

There were some nights he did see you at the bar, and there were nights he didn’t. The nights you weren’t there were worse—though he gave you your space when you were both at the bar, he couldn’t help but find solace in knowing you were there seeing a friend at the bar instead of a lover. When you were nowhere to be found, he found his mind wandering and clinging on to all the possibilities, all the men you could be with, men who hadn’t thrown away their shot with you without even knowing it, without even valuing it.

And he still didn’t even know your name.

You—despite the fact that you had lost track of how long it had been since the cocky gray-haired sniper had made his move on you—would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him. You were proud of standing up for yourself and your beliefs, and of not stooping down to a level of one more on the list of meaningless conquests at a bar, but the image of his enticing eyes had made its way into your mind in the course of those weeks. You’d thought back to the whisky on his breath, the way his teeth bared ever so slightly when he smirked, and how his chest felt under your hand when you pushed him out of your way.

It hurt, truly, that he was so careless with his own feelings, and the feelings of whomever he deemed attractive. But a part of you didn’t dare think of what things would be like if he was the relationship kind of man. Maybe you wouldn’t even be his first option in that scenario.

You found yourself at the bar on your usual spot, holding your usual drink in your hand, but its cool temperature had already caused the glass to sweat, and a thin ring of water had already appeared around the base. On any normal night, your drink wouldn’t last that long resting on the bar, and around you, everyone seemed to be getting their orders faster, a testament to your lack of chatter.

Finally, your friend the bartender approached you and crouched slightly to meet your downtrodden gaze. “No refunds for unconsumed drinks, I don’t care how sad you are.”

Your first instinct was to chuckle. “What, sad? Of course not!”

They raised an eyebrow at you and, from under the bar, pulled out a bottle of what seemed like hard liquor. “Maybe a shot of this will get you talking.”

You chuckled again, more genuinely than last time, and your whole body seemed to soften as you finally let your guard down. “No fair, you’re a bartender. Your expertise to read emotions is unmatched.”

“I like what I do,” said the bartender. “You’ve been getting more upset progressively. What happened?”

You looked up at them and sighed, taking a sip from your drink and setting it down again. “I’ve… lately, I’ve felt a bit lonely.”

“Dating scene’s hard, eh?”

“Not just that,” you said, tilting your head in reconsideration. “Actually, yeah, it’s just that. We’re at an age where we can, in theory, choose who we want to be with. But what happens when the person you want to get to know and maybe get intimate with is a total playboy who will most likely not see you the same way? What happens when being with the person you want to be with also means being at your most vulnerable and risking being cast aside by him?”

The bartender set the bottle of liquor down and their eyes widened at you.

“No way,” they said. “The sniper.”

You groaned and shrank in your seat, crossing your arms and leaning forward on the bar. “Yes. The sniper.”

“Baby girl, he is right there,” they said.

“Did you not hear me?” You asked. “I want something real, not a one night stand. I don’t care how—” you began to stammer, “-utterly handsome, gorgeous, and sexy he is.”

“So you stand by your choice to reject him,” the bartender asked.

You sighed and straightened your back as though to gather yourself. “Yes. Yes, I do. I just needed to vent.”

“So…” your friend began again. “Do you… want the sniper? Or do you want a palette cleanser?”

You met your friend’s eyes and hesitated. “I… I want to say… palette cleanser?”

It was obvious that you were doubting, but your friend, being the expert bartender and well experienced in listening to his clients’ problems, only had to look you in the eyes for a moment to know exactly what you needed. They knew every single customer at the 79’s—never mind the fact that most of them were identical—and for a couple moments, the bartender’s gaze drifted past your left shoulder and lingered for a while as though examining, as though they were plotting. You took notice of your friend’s positioning of their gaze, and you looked over your shoulder hoping you would see your next match.

All you saw was the sniper sitting at the farthest booth with a glass of whisky in his hand, all alone. But he wasn’t looking at you. With your heart plummeting in your chest, you turned away and reached for your own drink and took a large gulp from it.

“Wait here,” the bartender said. In the few moments they were gone, you paced yourself with your drink, beating the need to drown your sorrows, and when your trusted bartender finally returned, they did so with an agreeable-looking man, one who wasn’t a clone.

He was tall, had hazel-colored eyes and light brown hair that may have been blond in more natural lighting. He was dressed nicely, appropriate for a bar but not in a way that screamed a need for attention, and the amount of cologne he was wearing was rather attractive, certainly not too much of it. His lips were full and his bright smile crinkled his eyes as he looked at you, giving him a somewhat innocent gleam as he was visibly excited to meet you.

“What’d you say your name was?” The bartender asked him.

“Aiden,” he replied, looking at the bartender, and quickly went to meet your gaze again. “Aiden Maverick, pleased to meet you.”

You giggled softly, slightly surprised at how quickly your friend had gotten you company. Still, despite the speed, Aiden wasn’t a blatantly terrible choice. Actually, Aiden seemed like someone you could talk with, maybe hit it off, see where things went.

“Pleased to meet you too,” you said softly, holding out your hand to shake his. You then introduced yourself to Aiden and pronounced your name for the first time in a long time, perhaps even since you’d first set foot in that bar.

From the booth at the other side of the bar, Crosshair had tried hard not to stare at you. He wasn’t one to linger or to insist, but you’d made his mind your permanent residence. For the past weeks, even when he was on a mission sniping on some foreign cliff, his thoughts would often drift to the nameless girl from the bar, the one who only made him want her more when she was brave enough to tell him off like he deserved. For a moment, he asked himself why he continued to frequent the 79’s bar if all it did was remind him of how he screwed up with you before he could get himself a chance to try. It wasn’t as if he’d gotten a date since you turned him down. He hadn’t wanted to look at anyone else.

Some idiot he figured himself to be. Always confident and arrogant and snarky, with a quick remark ready for any occasion, but the moment one pretty girl turns him down, he shatters. Crosshair took a large gulp from his whisky—you weren’t just some pretty girl. No, he knew it when he first met you. He knew the second your bright eyes stared up at him and your soft, kissable lips smiled at him. He knew right then that he was a goner, that he would never be the same, that no one could compare to you, and nothing could compare to being smiled at by you.

But it was futile to lament. It wasn’t as if you knew, and it wasn’t as if you could. It didn’t matter when it came to you that Crosshair hadn’t gotten involved with anyone since he met you. You were the only person he cared to know that fact, and you didn’t.

For a moment, he dared to look at the bar, and the sight made him want to gag. Some nobody had gotten your attention—perhaps that nobody wasn’t notorious for anything and seemed perfectly rational. You were smiling at whoever that guy was, and Crosshair found himself wishing it was him standing next to you, flirting, charming you. He thought of going up there and putting up a fight, but some corner of him felt like he’d only be getting in your way of being treated nicely the way he couldn’t do the first time. Then, in the middle of his brooding, Crosshair’s watchful gaze picked up on another pair of eyes drilling into him just off the side of you and your acquaintance.

The bartender. Much like Crosshair in a battle, they saw everything. And it hit him. If anyone at the 79’s had taken note of the fact that Crosshair had put aside his old habits, it was the bartender. The bartender who, coincidentally, just so happened to be your friend, and just so happened to be staring intently at him as you hit it off with some other guy at the bar. Crosshair raised a brow at the bartender, asking with his gaze what he was supposed to do. He noticed the bartender directing a quick eye roll at him, and then they walked their way back to you and your new friend and placed one hand on your shoulder, the other one on the new guy’s shoulder.

“Alright, buddy!” The bartender called loud enough for Crosshair to hear. And then, the bartender continued to call out that “he” had their blessing to be with you, and then, the bartender pronounced your name.

Upon hearing what your name was, Crosshair understood. He understood that he couldn’t sit there for another second—to do so would be blatant waste, and if he did it, he would never deserve to be with you. But he downed the rest of his whisky, set the glass down loudly on the table, and stood up with more resolve than he had ever mustered in his life. He made his way across the crowded dance floor, finding it harder to do so than last time—his armor played a certain part in that, but despite the fact that it gave him confidence, the master-of-control sniper felt his chest shake with every step he took closer to you.

At last, he reached the bar and positioned himself beside you, catching Aiden’s attention. When Aiden looked at Crosshair, you realized he was standing beside you, and your eyes widened in surprise. You couldn’t help but feel defensive for a moment—you weren’t sure you’d be as firm to turn Crosshair down a second time.

“You’re gonna have to leave,” Crosshair told Aiden.

“What?” Aiden raised a brow. “Who do you think you are?”

“I haven’t been able to get this woman off my mind for weeks,” Crosshair evaded any temptation to buff up in testosterone and chose the path of brutal honesty. “You’ve known her for five minutes, I’ve needed her since the first time she smiled at me. I have gone back and forth six missions since then, been on the line of fire, and a blast to the heart would be heaven compared to never having another chance to make things right with her. I’m all the more hopeless than I was when I blew my chance, but I’m gonna need you to step aside right now because I need to make this okay.”

You barely knew Crosshair, but you didn’t reckon he was a man of many words. For him to say that much—and speak that beautifully—about you, made every fiber in your body shift towards him. You glanced quickly over at the bartender, and they were already looking at you with knowing eyes, raising their brows and gesturing at Crosshair before going on their way to tend to the rest of the customers. You let out a soft chuckle, flattered at the change in events, and you knew to trust your friend. With apologetic eyes, you looked over at Aiden.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Could you please give us a moment?”

Aiden appeared disappointed, but he nodded and stood up from the bar, taking the rejection like a pro and even managing a polite smile at you. “Right. Have a nice night.”

You directed a soft smile at him too as he walked away, but then your attention tunneled towards Crosshair, and your big eyes looked at him with hope and a twinge of caution.

“So…” you began, speaking as softly as the volume at the bar allowed. “I’m guessing changes of heart are common in soldiers.”

Crosshair stifled a chuckle. “Being a soldier had nothing to do with it.”

He was hesitant to touch you, and instead, he resorted to letting his gaze gently shower you with his purest intent. “What I said was true. I want to be with you, and I don’t care for anything else. All I could want is to come back alive from every mission to come home to you.”

You scoffed, but ended up smiling at him. “But… look. I’m crazy about you, and I never would have dreamed you’d want something with me. But you’re still you, you still get out and about and get whatever woman you want—”

“That’s over,” Crosshair said. “It has been since we met.”

“I can vouch for that,” the bartender jumped into the conversation. You looked over at them, half indignant, half amused, and your friend dismissed themself with a carefree wave of their hands before continuing their work.

You then looked at Crosshair again, and he looked at you. His entire aura seemed to soften, and he leaned in closer to you, almost shyly.

“You have a beautiful name,” he said.

You smiled, feeling your cheeks getting hot. “Thanks.”

He smiled back at you—he had a truly beautiful smile—and finally, Crosshair leaned in enough to rest his forehead on yours. Down at your side, you felt his fingers beginning to brush yours, and when you let him take your hands fully, you noticed his smile widen.

“So,” you said sweetly, “do you want to get out of here?”

His eyes met yours as your foreheads continued to rest on one another. “Yes. Do you want to?”

Your smile widened too and you gave a soft nod. “Yes.”

Crosshair gave a smooth chuckle, regaining some of his usual charm and confidence. “So, this is gonna happen after all?”

You giggled in response. “You’re pushing your chances, but yes.”

The laughter between you quieted down, and for a moment, your lips hovered over each other, flirting with the possibility of sealing the space and sinking into the first kiss. The tension in those millimeters left between your lips and his was electrifying, utterly delicious, and you wanted to savor it. You wanted that drumroll to lead to the best possible first kiss, and with your gaze suddenly full of mischief and excitement, you stood up from your chair and began leading Crosshair outside. He followed gladly, but not without leaving a generous tip for your friend, the bartender.

Outside, you were met with cool air and drops of rain falling from a cloudy, gray-blue twilight sky. The towering Coruscant skyline simply hit differently in the rainfall, and the countless lights that twinkled around you were reflected in the puddles on the pavement. You had no idea where you were headed, and you had the feeling Crosshair didn’t know either, but for that space, all that sufficed was to position yourselves under a lamp post. With Crosshair leading the way, he stopped next to it and turned around to face you as you caught up with him, never letting go of his hand, and that was when the rain began to fall harder. Anyone else who wasn’t covered from the shower would hurry out of the mist, but you felt it then without a doubt—the moment had come.

You smiled up at Crosshair and felt your spine erupt in sparks when he directed a smirk at you, one that was suggestive but didn’t lack an evident tenderness to it, a joy fueled by your presence and your hand in his. Towering, his armored, handsome figure inched closer to you, and his free hand secured your waist. Crosshair pulled you closer, you angled your face up as a sweet beckoning for his lips, and in those final beautiful seconds, Crosshair leaned down and took your lips in his, unleashing every bit of that delicious tension that had formed between you two. Every one of your feelings for him escalated, and you took a leap to wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him secure your rear end with strong hands. A playful moan escaped you, and you went on kissing him under that lamp post, mindless to the fact that you were soaking in the rain, for each second was worth the cold surface of your clothes in exchange for that heat building between your body and his.

In a matter of a blur, you and Crosshair left the spot under the lamp post that would forever belong to you two. The whole way back to your place, you could hardly keep your hands off of him, and when you managed to make sense of reality again, you found yourself in your living room clinging to his body once again, smirking into playful kisses as you both stumbled to your sofa. You rested on the couch cushions, wet clothes be damned, and enjoyed the sight of Crosshair looming over you with his figure still broad and armored. You let your hands roam freely over his silhouette, feeling damp plastoid on your fingertips wherever you touched, ranging from his back to his chest, his shoulders, even his expert hands. When Crosshair slipped his tongue into your mouth, you both moaned at the sweet sensations caused by the friction, and the taste of whisky prompted a wiggle of your hips that sent him reeling.

You felt your deepest corners beginning to ignite, and you let go of Crosshair’s body to bring your hands to your wet clothes, slowly beginning to remove your sweater followed by the blouse that clung to your body. When Crosshair noticed, you perceived the darkening of his gaze, and he aided you in removing damp garments. Your skin was left exposed, feeling cool as it came in contact with the air around you, and swiftly, Crosshair reached for a blanket you had folded on the armrest of the couch to cover you from the cold.

He resumed kissing you, and you decided it was his turn to lose the armor. You helped him remove the shoulder pad with the appendage, and the one without; his belt came off and then his chest plate, followed by one set of arm pads and then the other. By the time you were growing impatient, Crosshair was left in the black, thin suit that concealed his skin from you, and feeling the freedom from his armor, he pressed himself firmly to your body, letting you feel the hardening bulge between his legs. You invited him into the cocoon of your blanket, letting warmth engulf you both as your kisses wore on, and you felt his gloved hands taking their liberty with your curves.

Soon, you pressed yourself up to him and you were both sitting on the couch, breaking the kiss for a split second, only enough for you to pull the skin-tight black shirt over his body. You hesitated before kissing him again, prompted to take in all his beauty and memorize it, and when you kissed Crosshair again, your hands brushed from his lower abdomen and all the way up to his chest and collarbones; you could feel shivers forming on his skin as your hands trailed over him, and Crosshair let a deep moan bleed into the kiss, entranced by your touch.

You felt him standing up and bringing you along with him. He made sure you were still covered by the blanket as he carried you, and you broke the kiss, panting for breath with an enticing grin, biting your lower lip as you pointed your nose in the direction of the bedroom. Crosshair stood on the spot for a moment to kiss your lips one more hungry time, and then with almost impossible tenderness, he carried you to your room and set you on the bed, where you kneeled on the mattress facing away from him. As soon as Crosshair got on his knees on the mattress, with your back pressed to his chest, he kissed your neck and whatever he could of your collar until you turned your face to capture his lips once more. The blanket that covered your naked body fell down to your sides, and with your skin exposed again, Crosshair didn’t hold back before letting his hands feel your waist and travel up your breasts.

You ached in those moments of foreplay, longing for more, letting that hunger manifest in your kisses quickening and your breath straining. With a smirk into your lips, Crosshair obliged your silent request, and one of his hands went to your knee and snaked up your inner thigh, pausing for just enough to make you whimper in anticipation. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and you let out a wanton moan when you finally felt his fingers brushing over your clit in expert motions, not wasting another moment. Pleasure instantly flooded you, awaking every one of your nerves, and your body sank back into his as you moaned at the sweet electricity coursing through you. You could feel it building and bubbling more with each second that passed, enjoying every instant of it until you knew release was imminent. Your gaze found his, knowing you wanted to be looking into those beautiful amber eyes when it happened, and when it finally did, your whole body curved in its inability to keep upright at such intense pleasure expanding to your every corner. Crosshair moaned in unison with you as though to cheer you forward, enjoying every bit of your reaction, swelling in pride at how good he could make you feel. He didn’t let himself stop his expert work on your clit, he wanted you to feel every ounce of pleasure you could possibly feel, and when the time was right, he let you go for a breather.

He’d expected to remain on top, but Crosshair was met with you grasping his shoulders and leading him to lie down on the bed. You climbed on top and straddled his waist, eyeing the lines of his muscles standing out in the dim lighting of the room. You leaned forward enough to set your hands at the base of his hips where the fabric of his pants began and, pressing gently, you ran your hands up his abdomen, feeling the rise and fall of his muscles as his breath quickened in arousal. When your hands reached his chest, you felt the bulge in his pants hardening more, pulsating against your crotch, and Crosshair threw his head back on the pillow in a futile attempt to suppress a moan of sheer excitation before he looked up at you again with hungry eyes, his lips mouthing the word Please barely under his breath.

You leaned forward and kissed him again, moaning in tandem with him. Your hands reached down to the fabric that continued to cover the lower half of his body, and you undid the buttons at the top to pull it down enough to free his erection, and you heard Crosshair moan softly at the sensation. Barely giving him time to dimension, your hand grasped his girth and began pumping slowly, and you grinned with satisfaction into the kiss at the sound of Crosshair moaning louder at your touch.

“Yes,” he hissed, moaning into your kisses once more as you continued massaging his length. He continued to mumble things into your lips, only letting you make out faint details of “Touch me” until the final request was, like music to your ears, “Fuck me.”

You obliged, lifting yourself only to sink on his entire length, hissing at the sharp pain that quickly turned to pleasure when he stretched you out. You kept your lips close to his, and with his help, you bucked your hips up and down, rising and falling on his cock at a luscious pace. The heat emanating from your bodies continued to build between you, until you’d reached the quickest pace you could in that position. The sight of you on top of him was enough to entrance Crosshair, but he still ached for more. He wouldn’t have enough until you were writhing in his grip, and in a swift movement, he rolled over on top of you. In full control, Crosshair bucked faster into your hips, enticed by how deep and warm and wet you were. Every moan you let escape dragged him deeper into the state of ecstasy he found himself in, and he knew he’d never escape.

But he didn’t want to escape it. He’d pined for you long enough, and there you were, entwined in your lovemaking.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, letting him pound deeper into you until you once again exploded into raw pleasure. Your fingers clasped the silver hair on the back of his neck, and you let yourself moan his name out as you pronounced yourself his. After a few more movements, Crosshair was coming undone inside you, savoring every wave of intensity as the ropes of white flooded you inside, releasing airy moans as his body slowly allowed itself to calm down and he collapsed beside you.

Your visions blurred for the moments to come, and all either of you needed to know was that the other lay there beside you. You gathered yourself and rolled over onto one side facing Crosshair, and you let your hand slide gently up his torso one more time. You lay your head on his shoulder and rested your full weight on him, holding him close to you, and then you felt his arm draping around you as he let out a gentle, fulfilled sigh.

“We’ve got to do that again,” Crosshair panted.

“Yeah,” you said dreamily, and then you giggled. “You didn’t plan on sleeping tonight, right?”

Crosshair’s signature seductive chuckle rumbled low in his chest and he rolled over on top of you once more, seemingly ready to continue. “Not a chance.”

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[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 5

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!! Start reading from the beginning: Part 1 | Part 2 | part 3 | Part 4

Back to that night, (morning to him), Simon barely had time to process the call, dripping water onto the floor as he wrapped a towel around his waist. Her number flashed on the screen, but the voice on the other end wasn’t hers—it was one of her friends, slurring and calling him “Uber.” He was about to hang up, shake off this bizarre interruption to his night, when he heard her laugh in the background. It was a sound he hadn’t realized he missed.

And just like that, the memory flooded back—the way she had looked lying there in her bed, still half-dreaming, the way her hair spread across the pillow like some kind of halo. Her eyes, when they met his, had held something he couldn’t ignore, something that lingered long after he’d driven away that morning.

He closed his eyes, took a slow breath. Why was he even entertaining this? There was no denying it: he was interested, if only a little. But enough to look for her, to chase her? No, not exactly. Still, this was an opportunity, wasn’t it? A coincidence that didn’t require him to make any choices, just… to drive, to be there.

As he finished getting ready, he shot a quick text to Johnny, letting him know he’d be running late to base. Unsurprisingly, Johnny was quick to pick up on it.

Simon huffed at the message. He could practically hear Johnny’s smirk.

And with that, he slipped on a face mask, pulled a black cap low over his eyes, and buttoned up his uniform. He wasn’t about to make a habit of this—but one more night? That he could handle.

As he pulled up to the curb, he could already hear her friends talking—half-laughing, half-teasing. Their voices carried that messy excitement of a night spent a little too deep in the bottle, and he could hear his name on their lips, thrown around in a way that would have made most men’s egos soar. But when he saw her there, cheeks flushed, head ducked as her friends nudged her with conspiratorial glances, it felt… different. Pride crept up on him, sure, but it wasn’t the familiar, shallow kind he usually felt in these situations. She wasn’t just another face in a line of passing encounters, and the idea of seeing her as a one-night fling felt wrong. Somehow, he knew she’d never fit into that category, not for him.

Still, he felt the pull—the impulse to admire her, take in every detail, imagine the things he was barely allowing himself to think about. But more than that, he wanted to hear her talk, to get lost in the way she rambled and blushed, her boldness dipping in and out like a tide. It was maddening and frustrating, but even more, it was addictive.

“Right?” he thought to himself, as if needing the reassurance. I just want to hear her talk. Right?

Then again… maybe that wasn't all. He clenched his jaw, fighting off the surge of thoughts that threatened to pull him down a familiar path.

And when she slipped out of his truck, the look on her face settled like a weight in his chest—a fleeting disappointment, a shadow of hurt. He hadn’t meant it that way; he’d just been honest. He didn’t do well with calls, or texts, or… whatever this was supposed to be. Keeping distance was safer, for both of them. But somehow, seeing that expression made him feel like he’d fumbled it all.

Bloody hell, he thought, dragging a hand over his face. He was trying to keep things simple, keep his boundaries intact, avoid this tangled mess he knew he’d only ruin. But the second those words slipped out—“I like bourbon”—the guard he’d tried so hard to hold was gone.

Why did he say that? Why couldn’t he just let her leave with a clean goodbye? He should have known better. He did know better. But she’d left something unsteady in his mind, a tug he couldn’t shake. He wanted her close, yet something dark and heavy in him kept holding him back, whispering the same, cold refrain: You don’t deserve a good thing.

For a man who thrived on control, this was chaos. And maybe that was what scared him most—how badly he wanted her, despite everything that told him he shouldn’t.

He gripped the wheel tighter, jaw clenched, as if forcing himself to stay grounded could untangle his mind. Get it together, Riley. But her message kept replaying in his head, “It’s a date.”

His pulse jumped every time he thought about it, a strange thrill running under his skin that he couldn’t explain. Adrenaline was familiar—this wasn’t that. It was something sharper, laced with a damn feeling he’d barely let himself acknowledge. Anticipation, maybe. But did she actually mean a date with him? What did she see here, in a man like him, someone who came and went, who’d never had more to offer than a night or two and a silent exit?

He shook his head, almost laughing at himself. You’re thinking too far. But it nagged at him—some reckless part of him considering more than a single night, something deeper. Get a grip. He shouldn’t be thinking about seeing her again, about anything more. Yet somehow, the thought of something real with her felt like a dangerous promise, and he wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of letting her down… or of wanting it for himself.

The days that followed felt like a haze, each one blending into the next as if time itself had twisted around them. She was nearly losing her mind in disbelief, clutching her phone every so often just to make sure she hadn’t imagined their exchange. A date with him, she thought, her heart racing each time she saw that simple, blunt text: “It is.”

On the other end, Simon was in his worst mood all week. He’d been restless, short-tempered, and on edge—a state Soap noticed immediately. Every comment, every offhand remark seemed to hit him wrong, and the last thing he needed was Soap’s relentless needling.

Late Wednesday night, Simon had just returned from a brutal day—one that included nearly getting himself buried alive thanks to a reckless mission. As he tried to settle his mind, Soap’s text popped up.

Simon stared at the word, letting it sink in, and he felt that twinge again. “Ghosted me.”

It hit harder than it should have. He clenched his jaw, then tapped back a quick reply, unable to shake the memory of her voice, almost uncertain but trying to laugh off the sting when she’d said it.

Soap’s response came immediately, and Simon could almost hear his laugh through the screen.

Simon scowled, but the explanation hit home. He didn’t mean to disappear on her. He just… hadn’t known how to continue, how to deal with whatever was stirring up inside him. He was used to being here one day, gone the next—no strings, no complications.

But it was her voice, that small crack in it, that was stuck in his head. And something about the thought of her feeling hurt, thinking he’d just dismissed her, made his chest tighten with a strange guilt.

He shot another reply to Soap.

Simon stared at his phone, that unwanted little spark of irritation pricking at him. Soap had always had a knack for prying at the worst times. But this time, Simon didn’t answer. Instead, he sat there, his thumb hovering over the screen, his thoughts circling back to her words.

The days leading up to Friday felt like a fever dream. She couldn’t focus, her mind looping back to him at the worst times. She was texting Lottie about outfits all week, messaging in frantic bursts:

Lottie’s replies came just as fast:

And then Friday came. The second she opened her eyes, her stomach was tight with nerves. She was sweating through her day, fussing over every tiny detail, trying to push away the flustered feeling every time she thought about him. Why was she this worked up over a guy like him? He wasn’t anything like the men she usually went for, and honestly, he was a mystery—never showed his face, never even gave her the faintest hint that he might be interested. But… maybe, just maybe she’d missed the little signs he had given.

Because that thing about bourbon—was that a sign? And the fact that he actually drove her and her friends home that night?

Maybe, in his all-serious, closed-off way, he was giving her hints. And maybe, she just needed to be a little patient, to take things slow.

She wanted this. Wanted him. And maybe, against all her own warnings, she wanted it to be more than just one night.

By 19:00, she couldn’t take it anymore—she had to text him. Nerves made her fingers fly over her phone as she typed:

Before she could spiral any further, his reply came in, simple and to the point.

She bit her lip, eyes narrowing. Of course, he was that dry.

A pause, then his reply came back just as blunt.

God, he was so direct. So dry. And she couldn’t help it—she loved it.

@sleep101

I am posting this story on AO3 too; CLICK HERE TO SEE IT! (I always post here first)

[loonyloopylupin96]

Theme: Hagrid’s Hut | @wolfstarmicrofic | Words: 526

Carrying two dead stoats tied to the end of a long stick, Hagrid made his way back up the grassy mound to his hut. The sun was setting now, casting a red haze across the scene.

He paused to observe a familiar figure by the door, with shoulders slumped and head cast downwards, and cleared his throat.

“Remus?” he said roughly, and the figure jumped.

Remus’ pale face shone in the light of the setting sun as he turned around. He seemed relieved to see Hagrid behind him.

“Have you been waiting long?” he asked, unlatching the door.

Remus shook his head, “I don’t think so. I… well, I hadn’t got around to knocking yet. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Looking back at his feet, Remus missed the pitied expression cast his way.

“Yer’ll be wanting a cup of tea then?” Hagrid asked kindly.

“Yes, please.”

They didn’t say much for the first hour of Remus’ visit, and Hagrid began getting on with doing whatever gamekeepers do when shy students are building up the courage to speak to them.

Remus was finishing his second mug when he finally said what was on his mind.

“Why do you like the beasts and monsters, Rubeus?” he asked quietly.

Hagrid turned to the young boy and his hopeful, sorrowful expression.

“Well,” he started, “Who’s ter say they’re monsters? That’s just Ministry rubbish. I judge em on t’merit of ‘ow they’re behavin’. Nuffin’ more ‘n’ nowt less.”

Remus looked unconvinced.

“Yer’ve bin comin’ ‘ere a lot recently - I’m not complaining ‘cause yer helpful to ‘av ‘round ‘n’ heaven knows ye can use t’ food ye get-“ his words were punctuated by him handing over a plate containing a rather generous serving of fruit cake, “But what’s on yer mind? Bein' a werewolf don’t make ye a monster, Lupin. I told ye, it’s ministry rubbish. Yer no more a monster than Aragog-“

Remus’ head shot up. He wasn’t sure whether to be concerned because Hagrid was being quite so blasé about his condition, or insulted at being compared to a giant arachnid.

“-or Dumbledore hi'self.”

His breathe came back evenly.

“I just thought,” Remus started, “You wouldn’t mind me being here. You don’t care what creature walks through your door…” he trailed off, shrugging.

“I’m sure Black doesn’t either.” He laughed at the pink expression on Remus’ cheeks.

“They don’t know what I am,” Remus added in a low voice, a pained expression returning to cloud his features.

Hagrid shrugged. “Yer jus’ you. What more’s there t’ know?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in Gryffindor tower:

“Padfoot, you have all the subtlety of the giant squid tap dancing on the Quidditch pitch. He’s going to know we’re up to something!”

“He already knows we’re up to something. He hides at Hagrid’s every time you suddenly change a conversation. What if he thinks we hate him?”

“With that dopey expression you were giving him at breakfast? Pull the other one. Anyway, give it a week and he’ll know we don’t.” James turned to his left, “Peter, you’re starting to grow a tail so it’s obviously working. You’ve got this! Come on, let’s go again.”

[anakinstwinklebunny]

teen dad sam monroe and reader would definitely argue when it came to naming the baby. i’m imagining it like that one scene from glee with quinn and puck, it would be a funny imagine.

Quinn: you wanna name our daughter Jack Daniel’s? she’s a girl!

Puck: Fine, whatever, Jackie Daniel’s

Author's note: it's so sam coded I fell in love

You were sitting across from Sam in your cramped, barely-put-together living room, surrounded by baby name books and crumpled scraps of paper covered in doodles and crossed-out lists. Naming your baby girl had become an all-out battlefield—and Sam was determined that his names were the best.

“Okay, hear me out,” Sam said, leaning forward with this excited gleam in his eyes you kept seeing for what felt like hours now. “How about… Raven Storm?”

You just stared at him, pressing your fingers to your sore temples. “Sam, she’s a baby girl, not a rock band.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, but it’s a strong name. Memorable, you know? Like, people would be talking about Raven Storm for years.”

You sighed, trying to keep your patience. “Sam… please. She’s a girl.”

“Oh, okay, I get it, I get it,” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Alright, then Maximus Danger Monroe.” he grinned proudly

You stared at him, raising an eyebrow. “Maximus Danger?” you echoed in judgmental tone

“Exactly. It’s strong, it’s powerful, it's cool. Imagine her introducing herself—no one’s gonna mess with Maximus Danger.”

you bore your eyes on him, already tired (yet surprised) of all the names he had brought up over the last hours “What? It’s amazing,” he insisted, folding his arms with a pout. “You don’t get it, these are strong names! They’ll protect her.”

“She’s a baby, not an action hero!” you replied, surpassingly trying not to laugh at his pout, his incredibly devoted expression. Yet, it's meant to be a girl, not an alien. "We are the ones who should protect her, not some weird name"

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you don’t like ‘Danger,’ maybe something more classic. Chardonnay.” He smirked, clearly testing you now

You sighed, counting to five in your head to ease down. “Oh my god.." you sighed "Sam,” you began again, slowly (this time), to make sure it gets right into his head “You want to name our daughter after wine?”

“No, okay, I’m serious!” he insisted “What about… Scarlett Raven Monroe?”

You shot him an exasperated look. “Sam…”

“Phoenix Blaze?” he added, trying to up the ante. “It’s unique!”

You buried your face in your hands, half-pleading. “Please, just one normal name. Something cute, simple. Like Lily, or Emma…”

He scoffed. “Lily? She’s gonna have enough flowers in her life. I’m telling you, we’re gonna regret not picking something that stands out.”

“Fine,” you said with a long sigh, trying not to smile as you leaned over and squeezed his hand. There was no way you'd fight him about the name - not with his stubborn character “We’ll work on a compromise then”

Sam smirked. “Good. I knew you’re smarter than this. But, you know, Phoenix is still on the table…" to which you shot him a glare

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo

[finchly-tintinnabulation]

- Scout's Honor -

Original Ultramarine (Aristaeus) x GN!Reader

Next>>

Tags: Dubious consent, space marine not knowing his own strength (blood), rutting behaviors, gets a bit spicy but the clothes stay on

First time posting my writing here as a newer WH40k fan (and possibly my first time writing 2nd person), this one being heavily inspired by @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond's The Bellowing, @jaghatai-khock's Rutting Season, @kit-williams's Space Marine Husbandry Bonds, and general rut/bond dynamics. This will probably become a series oops

- - -

The 10th company barracks had been unusually quiet for days with the absence of the more experienced scout squads, those who were no longer neophytes with the completion of their bio-augmentation but lacked the rank of battle-brother, still on the proving grounds of combat. With your assigned squadrons away, you had to admit it was a lot more boring to walk the halls performing your duties. 

You were not the most efficient or devout serf, and while that quality had protected you by keeping your head down upon the slaver ship, you had worried your rescuers would not take so kindly to those qualities. To your surprise, however, you found your place serving the Scions of Ultramar to be comfortable. Even if the recruits had forgotten whatever previous human life they had, they were rowdy and playful as any young man would be, and the centuries old officers were of a patient temperament. Listening to the chatter of the Astartes was the most interesting part of your day, their jests and discipline alike. 

There were only a handful of neophytes milling about and polishing their armor, so you decided to take advantage of most of the company’s absence to clean the barracks without getting underfoot. The thing that may have tipped you off to something out of the ordinary was the lack of other serfs as well, but at the time you paid it no mind, especially when there was nobody to fuss at you for not wanting to haul around a stepladder to reach the corners of Astartes-sized living quarters. 

Room to room you scrubbed away the soot left from long hours of burning candles and incense, climbing precariously up onto the edges of cots to wipe film from the walls and ceilings. Humming to yourself let you pass the time in peace, methodically going about your work and restocking incense where it was needed. 

That was until you were reaching up for a particularly stubborn stain and you were suddenly crushed to the wall you were supporting yourself against with the force of being run over by a tank. 

Your head smacked hard against the metal and your knees buckled, eyes watering as white hot pain shot through your nose, some huge growling mass huffing hot breaths into your ear. Panic quickly overtook you, uselessly squirming against the beast enveloping your form. Defying an angel would surely get you punished, but that didn’t cross your mind when acrid animal fear clouded your thoughts.

“Hey! Down!��� You barked with all the air that hadn’t been pressed out of your lungs, tone scolding and authoritative with the memory of your family’s dogs from long ago. To your shock, it seemed to work. The weight retreated and you crumpled to your knees on the cot, heart jackrabbiting as you turned to see what manner of creature had jumped on you like prey. 

A scout marine perched on the edge of the bunk, still clutching your calves and looking like he’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar, apparently freshly showered judging from his wet hair and fatigues. How someone so large could ambush you so silently was no longer a mystery. You recognized him as a member of Sergeant Telion’s squad though his name escaped you, a familiar face as one of the men whose belongings you tended to, a sniper with no small amount of talent praised for his composure and calmness. And you were in his room. 

“Oh sh— I’m so sorry, my sincerest apologies sir— my lord angel, I must excuse myself—“ Frantically you looked to the floor for the rest of your cleaning supplies to grab and make a break for it, but your plans were halted by a loud, forlorn whine. 

The scout’s brown eyes were huge and wet, taking on a glassy quality from shame and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Some unfocused desperation as he looked pleadingly up at you, his hands retreating to give your ankles a squeeze. 

“Uh— easy, there… I’m not mad.” More than a little bewildered, you ever so slowly turned to sit on the cot to face the man, feeling a twinge at the pathetic look on his face as if he hadn’t just pounced on you. Did he want to be comforted or something?

Just as slowly you reached out, and things were a bit more clear when he met your hand halfway by leaning in to nuzzle against it, chuffing happily. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity. Sure, there was some arguably pack-like behavior amongst the squadrons, but this marine was practically a puppy. 

“That’s it, you’re okay.” Petting his damp scruffy crew cut, you listened to what could be mistaken for the distant rumble of thunder grow into a purr that vibrated through your whole body. You thought that perhaps you had appeased the beast for a moment before he climbed up onto the cot and into your space, shoving his face into yours with superhuman speed. 

Lips and tongue intruded on your mouth and nose, making you sputter in shock as the scout lapped at your face, making you taste something metallic. You gasped and tried to wipe away the saliva, making the marine retreat long enough for you to see him lick blood off his teeth. Where did… oh, your nose had been bleeding from the impact. Fuck.

“Is this your way of saying sorry? Hey, gentle.” Gingerly scratching at his scalp, the licking eased up to something more like dog kisses on your cheek as the scout crowded his way practically into your lap. Fear almost entirely forgotten, there was something pleasant about the warm solid presence once again pinning you in place. “…Good boy.”

Physical affection was something you assumed to be a thing of the past. There was little time for it amongst the serfs when so much was taken up by work and prayer, you couldn’t help but bask in it even as the scout shifted to practically laying on top of you, wrapping his arms around your chest. Warmth and presence and deep breathing, comforts you had almost forgotten. 

The marine’s warm tongue traveled downwards, lingering on your jaw before his face was abruptly stuffed into the crook of your neck, drawing a breathless and undignified yelp from your throat. Lips and teeth sank into your trapezius, undoubtedly worrying dark marks into your skin between desperate huffs of hot breath. That also drew your attention to his meaty thighs straddling yours, and the jerky movement of his hips. 

How would this look? Remembering yourself and your station you wriggled experimentally, breath ragged and face heating from the movement and teasing mouth. It was no use; there was no escape from underneath a fully grown Astartes. If you called out for someone to get this brute off there was a good chance of you being implicated, possibly blamed as some sort of corrupting force to the future of the Ultramarines. It was probably best to ride out the scout’s affections. 

Honestly… in that moment you didn’t quite feel like complaining. Touch starvation could be a potent thing, and despite his size and weight the marine held you tenderly, his body enveloping yours in warmth and the smell of fresh linens and something… strange and syrupy. Your head spun, small clipped groans slipping from between your teeth as the man atop you bit and sucked the flesh between his, the ache it left feeling tingly and… pleasurable. There was a heat low in your gut, the friction of your trousers rubbing against his becoming dizzying. 

You hadn’t been touched like this in so long… sweet purring sent a rumble through your chest that made your limbs feel numb… you couldn’t properly clamp down on the noise you made as his hand pressed down on your stomach…

“Aristaeus, what do you have?” The scout froze, finally pulling away from your neck to cover you with his body, apparently trying to hide you from the booming voice about where you remembered the open doorway being. “Let me see.”

A drawn out whine reverberated through your chest but his mass retreated, allowing you to tip your head back and try to make out the fuzzy upside down figure behind you. 

“Se-Sergeant…?” You croaked, blinking dazedly as you recognized the elderly Astartes. He raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose

“Brother Aristaeus, give them to me.” Another whine. Despite the terrifying sensation of being caught, you realized the tone Sergeant Telion used; handling a disobedient dog. “Now, please.”

The weight holding you in place lifted at the same moment you were grabbed by the back of your tunic and hauled into the air, carried away by a speed walking and very miffed Scout Sergeant. 

“I’m— I’m sorry my lord, I was cleaning the scouts’ quarters and—“

“Were you not told?” Sergeant Telion muttered, fixing you with his mechanical eye. 

“Told what? I mean, no sir— my lord, I wasn’t.” You floundered, limp as a scruffed kitten. 

Telion sighed wearily, pushing open the door to what you vaguely remembered to be the debriefing room. “To stay out of sight.” He set you on the table to better fix you with his stare, steady and unwavering as any master marksman would be. 

“…No, lord angel. I was unaware I wasn’t permitted to go about my duties as usual. Most of the serfs here are— what I mean to say is, I may not be inundated with everything, as I arrived a few months ago.” Undoubtedly there were already marks blooming on your neck that the Sergeant had seen, but you clasped a hand over your throat, self conscious and feeling just as trapped as if he had been holding you there. 

“Mm. I will have to discuss this with the Master of Reconnaissance. Unfortunate, we haven’t had such complications for a while.” Stroking his beard, Telion began to turn away. 

“Please my lord, I apologize for any complications I have caused, forgive my transgressions!” Complications. Ice ran down your spine as you imagined any number of punishments you could face, clasping your hands to try and disguise your trembling. Going back to the Drukhari was a preferable fate to becoming a servitor.

“It’s alright, this is the result of oversight, not you.” His bushy white brows furrowed. “Although I regret to inform you that your role as a serf will be changing. A first rut bond must not interfere with training.”

[maybefalsefacts]

Okay, hear me out: if the zombie virus is a Virus... That means there can be a cure right?

I think most zombies would die off naturally after x amount of time just given that their bodies can no longer sustain them. Meaning that they don't live long enough to fight off the virus naturally.

Wade's body can't cure his cancer because it's written into his DNA, but the virus isn't.

Yeah, Wade's cancer takes up most of his healing and it's working overtime having to constantly reattach his limbs and regrow skin and all that

BUT given enough time, it stands to reason that his body would be able to fight off the virus eventually. I mean, if he's already strong enough to be conscious, he could very easily outlive the virus.

It wouldn't be obvious or drastic by any means.

A month after he's bit, he stops going fully feral. He still goes into the unconscious/not quite Wade mode, but he doesn't outright attack

A year after he's bit, Wade slowly starts having more good days than bad. He's learned to control his hunger and can (mostly) be around the girls full time.

At a year and a half, his skin slowly stops just falling off. It will still peel and rot, but not nearly as badly. His limbs also stay better. They can still be yanked off, but they won't just fall off unprompted.

At two years, Wade is now sleeping in Logan's bed every night. He's hasn't had to be tied down or shot in weeks. He can do simple chores without forgetting what he was doing and almost never gets lost when he wanders off (after a butterfly or smthn. idk it's Wade)

At three years, he can almost be understood when he tries to talk. His grunts and moans start sounding like real words again. (They don't notice because they've all gotten used to translating Wade-Speak. Like how parents know what their toddler is saying, even if no one else does) And he starts eating other things. At first, it's just rabbit he caught or something because they've run out of food for him and Logan was hunting or whatever. But then he started stealing bites off of Logan's plate. Then getting his own plate (in addition to flesh) because it kept the hunger down.

At four years, he gets mistaken for an unbitten. He was out gathering wood and someone happens across their cabin. Wade isn't worried if the stranger has been bit or not (he's still in the mindset that he's a zombie...cause he kind of is) and points them to the nearest stream or town or something.

At five years, Wade says a long or complicated word and everyone just stares at him. It's like a lightbulb went off in their brains. They each finally notice the progress. Suddenly, Gabby and Laura throw themselves at him and Logan just sits there, tears rolling down his face. Wade is so confused because he too hadn't noticed the change.

He was still a long way from 'healed' but it gives them all so much hope

I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO

Anyway.

Thinking about apocolpse au.

Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)

"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"

And wades like:

"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"

And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)

"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."

"Rah?" 🤔

"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."

"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)

"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."

"Raah!!" 😄

And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)

But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.

The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.

Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.

"Grr-"

"Aye! That's enough outta ya"

"GggRah!"

"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"

"Mmmh??"

"Bad!!"

"Mmh....rahah.."

"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"

Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.

He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.

"...aahh-"

"Wade- No."

"Ggr.. raahh"

"Wade! No! Bad."

"Mmmh..."

"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"

He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.

"Then don't bite me."

"Mmh? Mrah?"

"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."

"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"

"No, not even a tiny one."

"Mm...😔"

Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"

"🙂‍↕️mh"

"Good."

Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.

You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.

This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.

"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"

"Rahahrah?"

"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"

"Aawr..😔"

The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.

He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.

This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.

Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally

When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.

"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'

Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.

"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.

Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..

[holidayinhell]

CWs: carewhumper, dubcon touch

“Sorry ‘bout earlier.” 

Whumper waved an apple in front of Whumpee’s face, shiny, bright red and perfect. But Whumpee sat in place catatonically, staring straight forward at the wall behind Whumper.

“Hey. Look at me bud.” 

Whumpee paid him no mind.

The tall man tried to swallow his annoyance. He knew it was important for Whumpee to feel safe and relaxed right now, but it wasn’t in his nature to be so… understanding. He was the impatient type, and the silent act was his least favorite form of passive aggression. 

“Hellooooooo.”

Whumpee shot a poisonous look up to Whumper, grimacing.

Whumper raked his nails across Whumpee’s neck, dragging them into the delicate flesh. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but enough to force a sharp gasp as Whumpee recoiled, scrambling backward. 

Fuck! Goddamn it!!!! He lost his fucking temper again. He didn't mean to. Why does this keep happening?!

“Sorry. Oh, fuck. I shouldn’t-- shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you really act like you’re fucking sorry.” Whumpee spat sarcastically. His good arm clutched the fresh scratches below his ear. It hurt, but the pain was nowhere in the same league as his violently pulsating arm.

A tear rolled down Whumpee’s nose, landing with a sting on his broken wrist. He glanced down at the black-and-blue marks. Perfect handprints were seared into the skin there, an echo of Whumper’s unforgiving grip. He'd never forget the sickening crack when Whumper snapped it—sharp and hollow, like stepping on a brittle branch in the woods.

“Well, I uh, couldn’t find any gauze at the Penny Mart. But I got this bandana I can use to wrap around it though. I’ll make a sling thinggy or whatever.” Whumper hesitated for a moment before pulling a crumpled bandana from his jacket pocket.

“Aaannnnd… this is the best part.” He presented the captive with the red apple again. “I got this for you.”

“Woah.” 

“Right? Isn’t it crazy shiny?”

“Yeah.” Whumpee ran his fingers over the apple’s immaculate, shining flesh. “It really is.”

He hated how fascinated he was with a simple piece of fruit. Then again, how long had it been since Whumpee had eaten something that was actually grown from the earth? 

Hanging from its stem pinched between Whumper’s fingers, it rotated in the air slightly, and it was so red it practically glowed, shining like a Christmas ornament. For a moment, both men were strangely enamored with the perfection of the apple.

Just as Whumpee outstretched his hand to accept the small gift, the fruit fell to the floor, bouncing against the concrete with a dull thud.

“Goddamn it Whumpee.” Whumper muttered, voice low and frustrated. “I was tryna do somethin’ nice.”

“It’s okay.” Whumpee said numbly, retrieving the bisected chunks from the ground. The juices from inside the apple glistened under the light. 

“Huh. Almost expected it to be red on the inside, too.” Whumper anchored his head on Whumpee’s boney shoulder. He was pleased when Whumpee didn’t pull away, allowing him to rest his ear against his collarbone.

“So," Whumper said coolly, "do you still want it?”

“...yeah…”

“Mm, yeah, I’d eat it too.” Whumper growled into Whumpee’s ear. “Even smashed to pieces and ripped inside out.” 

Whumpee shifted on his feet, uncomfortably shrugging Whumper’s face off his shoulder. The man took a step back, eyes flickering over to Whumpee, his intense gaze tracing his body up and down, savoring the sight.

“Don’t do that.” Whumpee protectively shielded his broken wrist.

“Don’t do what?” Whumper laughed with a crooked smile, his voice teasing. “I was just sayin'. The inside of the apple is just as pretty as the outside. Maybe even more pretty. And ya know...” 

Whumpee didn’t know what to do when Whumper stepped into him, putting his mouth over the red scratch marks from earlier.

“I bet you’re like that too.” Whumper purred as he lapped at the skin. 

His tongue swirled over the scratches and glided up Whumpee’s neck until he met the fleshy lobe of his ear.

“It’ll be a nice day when I can finally rip you apart too. But I'll take good care of you 'til then.”

((more whump drabbles))

[thefallennightmare]

Oialë-Matt Dierkes x OFC!Faye[JP UNIVERSE]

Oialë: Eternal in Elvish.

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x OFC! Faye[JP UNIVERSE]

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff.

Summary: Matt meets up with Faye at a familiar place.

Authors Note: I wanted to visit these two love birds before the ending of JP. this takes place between chapter 30 and 31!

Tags: @blueskylinesx @artificialbreezy @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurado @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit @rain-down-on-mee @sorrowsofsilence @xmads-omensx @dominuslunae @follow-me-down-to-wonderland

MATTHEW

“Hey you.” 

Faye’s familiar ethereal voice echoed through the phone as I held it between my shoulder and ear, pulling the front door closed behind me. 

“Hey yourself. I’m just calling to check in on you to see how it’s going?” 

She sighed, the exhaustion heavy in her breath. “Long but we’re getting a lot of good shots. I should be home in an hour. Should I bring something for dinner?” 

Carefully opening the door to my truck, I set everything on the backseat and nodded even though Faye couldn’t see. 

“Sure. I’m good with whatever you want. I’m taking the dogs to the park for a little bit but I’ll  be back before you get home.” 

There was some rustling on her end before she spoke. “Alright, my love. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. I’ve missed you all day.” 

My heart lurched in my throat, feeling the same way. “I missed you too, fairy. It’s been a long week of work for both of us but we have the next four days to ourselves.” 

“Can’t wait,” I could hear the smile in her voice. 

After saying goodbye, I pocketed my phone and hopped behind the wheel, my truck roaring to life. Peering back towards the house, I smirked seeing Boo and Zeus in the window wondering where I was headed without them but then my heart hurt at how sad they looked. 

“I can't do this without them,” I muttered under my breath before running back to the house and grabbing my boys. 

Once they were settled in the truck, I looked at Faye’s location on Life360 and pulled out of the driveway. She’d been down by the pier since 10 a.m this morning photographing a local band. Since Hollow Souls did have much going on lately, Faye had been taking a few side jobs here and there. She’d worked every day this last week and I’d be the first to admit that I missed her like a love sick puppy so I decided to pack us a picnic, grabbed a blanket, and her favorite sweater of mine because I knew she forgot to grab one and she would be cold tonight. 

“She always gets cold,” I chuckled to Boo who was perched on my lap while Zeus was in the backseat. 

I pulled my truck up to the local floral shop and left them there after a quick pep talk. The bell above the door jingled when I walked in, announcing my arrival. Joan, the older lady who ran the shop, gave me a smile. 

“You're two days early for your weekly bouquet!” 

I gave her a sheepish smile while stuffing my hands into the pockets of my joggers. “I know but special circumstances. Any chance you’ve got some blue tulips lying around?” 

Her frail hands tapped the counter before she disappeared into the back area of the shop. A variety of scents filled my senses, causing me to rub my nose. I’d been coming here every day ever since Faye and I started dating to buy her a bouquet of blue tulips. It was so often that Joan began having a bouquet ready for me every Saturday night so Faye could wake up to them Sunday morning. 

“Lucky for you,” Joan appeared behind the counter again with an even larger bouquet of blue tulips than usual. “I had a feeling you’d be coming by tonight. Can’t explain it but I had this ready for you.” 

I took it from her with a bright smile. “Thank you, Joan. Go ahead and charge the card on file double. For the last minute bouquet and for Saturdays when I pick it up this week.” 

“Oh she must be special. Two bouquets in one week?” She teased me. 

I gripped the small box in my pocket. “Really special.”

Once I was back in my truck, the blue tulips resting safely in the front seat, I began driving towards the pier; nerves for tonight making my stomach flutter. This was supposed to happen a month ago but Faye had gotten sick the original night I had planned and with what happened with Noah and Angel, I knew I had to push my plans off for a while until the dust settled. 

More time for me to plan this. 

The pier appeared in a matter of minutes and I was able to find where Faye parked her car so I eased my truck next to hers. I knew she was working down a ways on the beach so I grabbed all of my things and walked down the steps towards the sandy area of the beach, Boo and Zeus following close behind. The sun was setting, bathing the ocean in glitters of orange and yellow hues. Gone were the groups of people that filled the beach for a day in the water and now only a few people lingered around, not enough to be a bother. 

By the time I finished setting up the blankets, pillows, and small picnic, my phone buzzed in my pocket. The dogs were clipped with their leashes but I could always trust that they wouldn’t run far off. 

Faye 🧚‍♂️: All packed up! I was thinking of grabbing some Chinese take out. Does that sound good?

All I sent her was my location pin drop which was a less than three minute walk where she currently was. 

Faye 🧚‍♂️: What’s this?

Faye 🧚‍♂️:  Wait, are you here?

Me: See you soon, fairy. 

Setting my phone on silent, I tossed it onto one of the pillows and stood on the blanket in my socks as I patiently waited for her. One hand was in my pocket while the other held onto the bouquet of tulips. 

I tried to tell myself that there wasn’t a need to be nervous since she already technically gave me her answer over a month ago.

Suddenly a spec of teal appeared a few feet down the beach causing my lips to break out in a wide smile. Tonight, I opted out on wearing a hat and had my hair pulled back into a low bun, wanting to look somewhat presentable for her. 

I still wore a hoodie and sweats. You couldn’t beat those off of me with a stick. 

My breath caught in my throat when I took in the sight of Faye dressed in an orange sundress, the ends blowing in the wind. Her perfect breasts were accentuated by the halter style top, tied together in a bow behind her neck. When she left this morning, her hair was tied back in a braid, thanks to me. But now it brushed over her shoulders in waves. In one hand was her white sandals and the other held her camera bag. 

But my eyes were locked on the Evenstar necklace around her throat. Faye wore it all day, every day, ever since I proposed to her with it a month ago. 

“What are all of my boys doing here?” She asked with a soft smile, Boo and Zeus wagging their tails at her feet. 

I shrugged. “We wanted to surprise you with a picnic on the beach.” 

After dropping her things on the blanket, she stepped into my embrace and pressed a kiss to my lips. When she went to pull away, I held onto the back of her head for a moment longer, wanting to savor the way she tasted. The kiss may have been short but it was enough for me to convey how much I loved her without actually saying it. 

“You’re two days early for your weekly tulip bouquets,” Faye giggled after taking the flowers from me to breathe them in. 

My spine stiffened  as she gazed down at the flowers but relaxed a moment when she gently brought them to her chest. With our fingers linked, Faye pulled me down to the blanket as I spread out the sandwiches and fruit I packed for us while she talked about the shoot. I always watched her with a fond smile whenever she talked about her interests. The other night while she was reading a book, she ran into my office with said book in her hand needing to talk to me about a major plot twist. 

The entire conversation lasted thirty minutes as she rambled on while pacing my office, me watching her with love and light in my eyes. 

“Shit, I’m so fucking cold,” Faye shivered while wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I figured you would be,” I chuckled while handing her the extra hoodie I brought. 

She always drowned in my clothes yet I loved the way she looked. 

Once we finished the food and I cleaned up the mess, I brought Faye closer to my chest so I could breathe in her familiar scent of gardenias. 

“Anything special you want to do this weekend?” I questioned. 

She squeezed my side. “Just you.” 

“I can make that happen,” I hummed, brushing a kiss over her forehead. 

As we sat there in silence watching the waves, Zeus next to me and Boo in her lap, something was eerily familiar about this certain pier. Almost as if I’d been here before but couldn’t pinpoint on when. Slowly but surely, more people started to arrive on the beach with chairs or blankets, making me raise a brow in confusion. 

“I think this is the largest bouquet of blue tulips yet.” 

Faye’s voice brought me back to her and I sat with my hands perched in my lap watching her as she filtered through each stem, getting closer and closer to the rose colored box that was hidden between them. 

“I don’t think we have a big enough vase-,” her voice faltered when her finger finally brushed up against the velvet box. 

My entire body shook with nerves as I silently watched her pull out the box before opening it, her gasp so loud over the pick up of voices around us. Inside the box was an emerald green diamond surrounded by a silver band that looked like branches. 

“Uh,” I cleared my throat. “I know we’re already engaged but I want to give you an actual ring. You deserve to have that.” 

Faye made no move, eyes locked in on the ring, so tentatively I removed it from the box so I could show her the engraving on the inside of the band. 

“Oialë. It means eternal in elvish,” I explained. 

She blinked up at me, eyes wet with tears, and cupped my cheek. “Matthew, you didn’t-.” 

I immediately nodded. “Yes, I did. You deserve an actual engagement ring, Faye.” 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed while I slid the ring on her finger. 

“Did you want me to propose again?” I asked, suddenly nervous that I didn’t think about that. 

“No,” she wiped away at a loose tear, Boo still snuggled in her lap. “I absolutely love how you proposed with the Everstar necklace and nothing could change that. But I also love the ring.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Y/N actually helped me out with it. I was so fucking lost on what looked good and what size you were so I had her meet me before she shot the Just Pretend music video.” 

Faye couldn’t take her eyes off her ring, the faintest of smiles on her lips. If there weren’t a group of people around us, I’d lay her back on the blanket to connect our souls together. 

Too bad that’s already been done before. 

“I love it. And you. So fucking much,” Faye kissed my cheek. “I’ll show you my thanks later tonight.” 

Crimson covered my cheeks as I glanced around us, suddenly very angry at myself for deciding to do this in public. 

“Are you alright if I tell the group chat?” I asked while holding up my phone. 

Faye, who had her phone in her hand, gave me a sheepish look which caused me to snort. 

“You already told them.” 

“I couldn’t help it! I had to show them,” she defended while holding out her hand to snap another picture of the ring. 

Bringing her close to me again, the sky above us broke out in loud and bright sparks; fireworks lighting up the sky. Suddenly I remembered why this setting was so familiar. It was because I’d been here with everyone two years ago to the day when Noah and Angel were sitting not too far from here. 

“Small world,” I smiled before making sure Zeus and Boo were alright with the fireworks. 

Thankfully they seemed alright but decided that after another minute we would pack up and leave so they weren’t too stressed out. I just couldn’t stop admiring the way Faye looked while watching the fireworks. 

Breaking away from the trance, I checked my phone to scroll through all the new messages in the group chat. 

Noah Seb: So that’s why Matt and Y/N were so sneaky last month. We’re so happy for you guys. Y/N is sitting next to me crying because she can’t get over how gorgeous the ring is. 

Davis Rider: Maybe she should have bought one for herself. 

Noah responded with the annoyed emoji right before another one from him came through. 

Noah Seb: Don’t forget your flight leaves Tuesday at noon, Matt. Think you guys will make it or will be too busy celebrating? 

That caused me to scoff as I replied. 

Me: Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mochi. 

He replied with the middle finger emoji. 

Zeus started getting restless next to me so I motioned to Faye that we should probably head back home. 

After we were all packed up, I linked fingers with her and brought the ring to my lips, peppering it in kisses. 

“I love you, Faye,” I proclaimed. 

She cupped my cheek. “I love you too, Matthew Dierkes. For Oialë.”