#also this is a JOKE made for the laughs PLEASE do not use this to start actual ship discourse. i have nothing against self-inserts or ocs

[sweeeetjjk]

Based off of this request!! We havveeee sub!Gojo once agian people.

Reminder: let your freak flag fly in my asks trust I don't kink shame!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“F-fuck! Please slow down!” Gojo whimpers, his hips bucking up into your mouth. You’ve been at this for about what 10 minutes? And he’s already grabbing your hair, pushing you down onto his aching cock that’s plunged down his throat.

“Stop moving so much, I’m gonna end up biting you” you complain, after he finally gives you a chance to breath. All he dose is moan in response, squeezing his eyes shut tight before moving your head down to his twitching cock.

You don’t have the chance to cover your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on as his back arches into your face, pushing his dick deeper into your throat. He lets out a loud moan before his heads thrown back and you can only hear a few mumbles fall from his lips, as spurts of his cum shoot it’s way down your throat.

“Fuckfuckfuck— so so fucking - good baby thank you thank- mhmm!” He moans, finally releasing his tight grip on your hair after.

“Your such a asshole” you say before slapping his thigh lightly “also sorry about the teeth”

“No it’s fine” he pants, a little out of breath from what he assumes is his 6th best orgasam of his life. (Yes he ranks them). “Liked it , kinda hurt but in a really really good way.”

“Oh so you liked the pain huh?”

“Yeah maybe a bit” he says shooting you a wink as he starts to cover himself back up.

“A little or a lot? Because I’ve never seen you cum as hard and fast. I mean like whew I could honestly barley-“

“Okay okay I get it … just let me return the favor baby” he says before pulling you onto his lap.

That’s how you ended up here. You see, after that day you made it your mission to find out exactly what he liked. Now - gojo wasent shy or anything, but when it came to things like this he seemed.. a bit more nervous.

But you’ve noticed things. Things that you don’t think he even realizes hes doing. Kind of like how everytime you pull his hair you feel him twitch inside of you, or whenever you “accidentally” use your teeth every blowjob after that day, he’s letting out moans so loud your certain your neighbors hate you . So tonight you’ve decided to try something different . Something to make him come out of his shell. You don’t want to actually hurt him, but you won’t have to worry as much, because you guys have already talked about the stoplight system.

“When you come home from work get naked at the door” you say when you call him on break

“Okay”

“That’s.. that’s all? Your not gonna ask why”

“Why would I ask why? I mean im getting some tonight so why would I complain” you can hear his stupid smirk through the phone

“Whatever. Just don’t forget. Only come into the room untill I say- I mean it Satoru”

“Hehehe” you hear he laugh through the phone. You can tell he’s laughing at one of his dumb jokes

“What” you sigh.

“ you said “cum” he lets out another laugh

“…..” silence Is all he hears before you hang up.

You’ve already brought all of the items you would need for later tonight. Stuff like silk ribbon ties - because you just know he’ll be trying to escape your grasp no matter how good it feels. He’s very sensitive .

You changed into your baby pink lingerie, that you put on about 20 minutes before Gojo arrived home. You wanted everything to be perfect.

Then you hear the front door open, and Gojos heavy footsteps follow.

You can hear him start to walk to the room, but he stops right by the kitchen, remembering what you told him later that day.

“I’m home” you hear him call out, his voice laced with excitement, and you start to hear the shuffle of clothes being taken off.

You feel the nerves electrify its way through your body, through your veins. It’s not that your scared, no, no, no…. It’s just your so excited to get to know more about him, even the part he tries to hide.

“Stay right there and wait for me to call you up!” You yell through the house

“Yeah I know”

Once you calm down a bit, and belive your finally ready, you call him up.

You can hear him scrambling up the stairs with way too excitement. He acts like he hasn’t seen you naked even though you’ve been dating for 5 years.

When he opens the door he sees you standing there, then he looks towards the bed and his eyes widen a bit.

“What… what’s all this baby” he says with a nervous chuckle

“Youll find out later, just lay down for me baby” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him closer towards the bed.

Once he lays down on the open spot on the bed, you move your hands softly on his thighs

“You look so pretty-“ you cut him off before he finishes his sentance

“Shhhh just be quiet and relax… let me take care of you baby”

You move over to grab the silk ribbon before straddling him. You softly tie his hands up above his head, onto the headboard.

“So you can stay riiiighttt here” you mumble under your breath.

“Mhm” he puffs out breathlessly.

“Your doing so good for me already, laying here and letting me control you like this huh?”

All he dose is nod his head before receiving a soft slap on his cheek that catches him by suprise.

“I need words baby” you lean down and whisper in his ear

“Yes… yes such a good boy for you- only for you”

You move lower down untill your face is leveled with his cock that jumps at your gaze . He’s already moving around and softly thrusting his hips up for some type of friction. You hold it softly in your hand, hearing him gasp and seeing seeing his thigh clench

You start to stroke slowly, then randomly deliver a light slap right to the top of his leaking cock.

“Hey! W-what was that for” he hisses through his teeth, and his body starts to squirm a bit when you tighten your hand around him.

“What’s your color baby” is all you respond with

“..green”

“Good then you shouldn’t mind this” you deliver a more powerful slap this time, really wanting him to feel it.

He lets out a loud moan at the pain and fries to close his thighs instinctively,but can’t because your rested in between them. “O-ohmygod, please more baby please” he rambles on, he looks so ruined and you’ve barley touched him yet. Hes looking down at you desperately , his eyes filled with the need to touch you. 

He tries to hold you, grab your hand, feel you up, but his hands are held back by the ribbons. “Let me touch you, come onnnn”

“It’s not about me tonight baby” you slowly start stroking him agian and cupping his balls with your other hand. He easily forgets whatever he’s going to say next, as he throws his head back against the pillow.

“Mmmm a little faster- yesss just like that” he starts getting a bit antsy and moving his hips to meet your hand. You feel his cock twitching and his breathing getting louder - knowing he’s about to cum. Instead of letting him, you promptly remove your hand from him.

He lets out a loouddd whine, “why won’t you let me cum - your being mean” he complains

“Shhh it’s okay baby , just wanted to ride you…. Or that a problom?”

“No!” He starts moving his hips once agian “no problems here, in fact it’s the best thing I’ve heard all day”

You roll your eyes before straddling him, and slowly slipping him inside of you. You both let out loud moans once you’ve fully bottomed out. He lets out a annoyed huff when he can’t move his hands to your hips .

When you start moving - he’s done for. His eyes squeeze shut as you ride him slowly. “Mhm… feels good baby, feels really fucking good”

“I know I know your doing so good for me just quiet down okay, I don’t wanna have to be mean”

All he dose is nod his head as you speed up, his mouth falling open in pleasure , and his hands clenching into fists.

He won’t quiet down, in fact it feels as if he’s purposely getting louder, testing your limits. You slap his face and move his chin to look at you

“I said shut up Satoru, do you ever listen?” You say with labored breathe.

“C-can’t feels t’good!” He disregards you , so you grab his hair and whisper “do you even want to cum? Then act like it” he lets out a whine when you tug his scalp roughly, starting to try to muffle his moans.

You start moving quicker, making his dick hit that spot inside of you juuuust right it makes your back arch slightly. As you get closer to the end , and you know he’s right behind you. You use your fingernails and trail them roughly down his chest, leaving red scratches.

“Do you know how pathetic you are to like pain like this baby”

“Y-yes” he mumbles hips moving up to meet your thrusts

“F-fuck Satoru- I’m trying t-to be nice and take it slow but look at you below me, looking. A absolute mess” you let out a laugh- and he just can’t take it

He’s shooting thick white spurts into you while his mouth falls open in a open scream. The feeling of being filled, sends you into your orgasam, making you fall on top of him while holding onto him tightly, burying your head in his neck.

“F-fuck baby thank y-“

“Ugh I didn’t even get to use any of the stuff I got” you say rolling into the other side of the bed dissapointed

“It’s okay, it’s the first time we’ve used toys so I’m not surprised it slipped your mind”

“But I was so excited” you mumble “I even bought this lingerie for you”

“It’s okay, we can try next time- I really enjoyed this, even if you didn’t torture me as much as you wanted” he teases

“Oh please that was nothing” is the last thing you say before starting to thrift off, but you don’t really get there because Gojo is lifting you up carrying you to the shower.

“You know- we can have round two in here huh?” He shoots you a wink while your in his arms

“Oh shut up” you laugh, already knowing he’s right.

@francesca-the-1st @leiszn @naialace @nicorobin-ya @sugar504 @kikikoifi @ilovesnapple @izzybehappy @moldy-blondie

[under-the-mud]

Description: Over the course of Paige and Azzi’s relationship, the idea of marriage, or forever, has been brought up over and over, typically as a joke. One day, it’s not a joke. fluff, slowburn(?), probably around 7-8 parts

This is inspired by @/victoria bennie on tiktok

(a/n) so remember when i posted yesterday about a cute little short pazzi one shot idea that could not get out of my head? yeah well that snowballed into a multi-part series b/c i am averaging ~500 words per section and that feels too overwhelming to write as one big oneshot. anyway, this is my first big piece so all constructive criticism is welcome but also please be kind. I will never write smut, so if you're looking for that, go check out @33lol , i love their work so much. love ya!

masterlist ch.2

～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～

2017

It was late. Paige knew this. Even with only an hour difference between them, Paige could see the wear of the day on Azzi’s face. Still, she could not bring herself to be separated from Azzi. 

It had been three months since Team USA and the girls somehow managed to grow even closer. The minute they went their opposite directions at the airport, they were already texting about when they’d get home and could facetime again. Both families found it cute, if not a little obnoxious how one could never be completely pulled away from the other. Even when they weren’t directly on call with one another, they still brought up the other in conversation, often leaving their families exasperated at the constant obsession. 

However, to Paige and Azzi, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. To them, they were best friends, the best of best friends, why shouldn’t they always be texting or calling, why shouldn’t they be obsessed and wrapped around one another. Which leads them to now. 

Their current phone call was on its 6th hour, lasting even through each of their after school showers, much to their parents' dismay. Finally, it was time for bed and both girls were sitting all wrapped up and cosy in their respective beds, secretly wishing the other was laying next to them instead of on a phone halfway across the US. Azzi was starting to drift off, only half listening to whatever Paige was yapping about. But then Paige said something that suddenly made her wide awake. 

“...we’re going to UCONN to be coached by Geno, the best coach of all time and we’re going to be the best college basketball backcourt duo in the nation! I bet with the two of us playing together, we’re going to the natty’s every year. AND then obviously I will get drafted first-”

“Woah, slow down,” Azzi said, startling back to reality. “Who said anything about UCONN and us going together and being drafted to the W?”

Paige, taken aback, “well UCONN is one of the top women’s basketball colleges in the nation. And, well, we’re best friends and we do everything together…”

Warmth bloomed in Azzi’s chest. “You’re right P. I’m sorry, I was just joking. Of course we’ll always be best friends and we’ll go to UCONN together and eventually play together in the W. Nothing could split us up”

“You promise?” Paige said, still shy but holding up her pinky finger.

“Promise.” 

“Till the end of time?”

“You’re such a dork. Yes, Paige Madison Bueckers, I promise to be your best friend until the end of time,” Azzi laughed, virtually completing the pinky promise.

A quiet “yay” came from Paige.

Azzi snorted, “go to bed you big goofball”

～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～

(a/n) thanks for reading! like i said, i'm new to this so i am totally open to anyone who wants to maybe revise my outline or edit my final drafts before I publish them. I want to give a special thanks to @33lol @elleaitch22 @hcneymooners @pbaz7 @azzibuckets and @izzih22 who all write so beautifully that they have inspired confidence and courage in me to try writing and yeah they're each just really awesome blogs and i love them so much

[andy-15-07]

Hiya! PSA before I say anymore. I love your fics so much. They give me life. Also I apologise if this request is odd. But could you please write a Pedro fic where reader is a dental nurse and she asks him to come to her clinic after hours so she can do a check up on him because ya know she’s gotta take care of her man. And when she’s doing the check up she gets cheeky and straddles him on the chair while doing it. Like teasing him ya know. And he gets the hint and obviously make Pedro his funny self joking and stuff. I wouldn’t mind if it ended with a bit of smut but I’m happy for whatever xx. THANK YOUUU

Say Aah, Baby

PAIRING: Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1395| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist II

Joel Miller Masterlist

The clinic smelled like mint, bleach, and danger , at least that’s what Pedro said as he stepped through the glass doors, grinning like a kid who knew he was about to get in trouble.

“You sure this isn't some elaborate ploy to torture me?” he teased, peering around the eerily quiet dental clinic. “This feels like the start of a horror movie. Or a very specific kink scenario.”

You popped your head out from one of the rooms, your hair up in a messy ponytail, white scrubs hugging your figure. “Oh, it's a kink scenario,” you deadpanned. “But we’re starting with your dental check-up, as promised.”

Pedro laughed, raising his brows as he approached. “You’re too sexy for this to be professional, you know that?”

You handed him a clipboard with a fake patient form. “Name?”

“Pedro Pascal.”

“Occupation?”

“Hot boyfriend,” he said with a wink.

You fought the smile tugging at your lips. “Mmm. Arrogant.”

He leaned closer, voice low. “Confident.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “We'll see how confident you are with a dental scaler in your mouth.”

He gave a mock shudder and followed you into the room. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead as he climbed into the chair, letting his arms hang lazily by the sides.

“So,” you said, pulling on your gloves with a satisfying snap. “How long has it been since your last check-up?”

Pedro tilted his head, pretending to think. “I dunno. How long have we been dating?”

You snorted. “Pedro.”

“Fine. I don’t remember. I’m a bad boy. Are you gonna punish me?”

You straddled the stool beside him, grabbing your tools with a practiced ease. “Not yet.”

He smirked. “So there's a ‘yet.’ Noted.”

You leaned over him, tilting his chin gently. “Open up for me, baby.”

“Aah…” he said, mouth open, eyes twinkling.

“Good boy,” you whispered, and he practically purred.

You got to work , mostly , checking his molars, gently prodding at the gum line with your gloved fingers. Pedro stayed still, but his eyes never left you. Every time you leaned closer, brushing his cheek with your chest, he made some dumb little sound like, “Mmm, bedside manner’s immaculate,” or “I suddenly have twelve more teeth that need checking.”

You pressed the mirror tool against his tongue. “Hush, I’m working.”

“Mmhmmphf,” he muttered, which you took as mock obedience.

The clinic was warm and quiet, and the intimacy of the moment made your skin tingle. You were used to being professional. Calm. Focused. But with Pedro beneath you, legs spread, warm brown eyes trailing your every movement , it stirred something playful.

When you finished scraping a bit of tartar, you tossed the instrument into the metal tray with a clink, then leaned over him, your knees settling on either side of his thighs.

His eyes widened. “Oh?”

“I need a better angle,” you murmured.

“You do?” he asked, voice a little hoarse now.

You nodded innocently, pulling your mask down. “Mm-hmm. Stay still.”

You adjusted your position, fully straddling him in the chair, your gloved fingers resting on his jaw as you leaned in close. Pedro swallowed hard.

“I feel like this violates at least five health regulations,” he said breathlessly.

You smiled wickedly. “That’s why we’re doing it after hours.”

He groaned, hands twitching at his sides, clearly resisting the urge to touch. “Baby, you're killing me.”

“You’re the one who hasn’t had a cleaning in over a year,” you teased. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh yeah? Since when does your job involve sitting on my lap?”

“Since you started moaning while I was polishing your teeth.”

He huffed a laugh. “That was a very erotic scaler.”

You dragged your gloved thumb across his bottom lip. “Open up again.”

He obeyed, his eyes still dark with heat as you leaned in , but instead of checking anything, you pressed a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“That's not very clinical,” he whispered.

You licked your lips. “Oops.”

Pedro exhaled sharply, then grinned. “You’re dangerous, mi amor. I should’ve known this was a trap.”

���You didn’t complain when I told you to meet me here.”

“Because I thought maybe you were into roleplay. You know. Strict nurse. Helpless patient.”

You let your hips shift, grinding just a little, and his breath hitched. “Oh, I am.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, fingers finally gripping the armrests. “You're sitting on top of me in scrubs. This is… I don’t even know what this is. Heaven?”

You leaned in, pressing your mouth to his ear. “You gonna be a good boy and let me finish your cleaning?”

“Not unless finishing involves something very different,” he growled.

You pulled back, smiling sweetly. “Well then, Mr. Pascal… I think you just earned a very hands-on treatment.”

Pedro groaned, and the sound went straight between your legs.

He surged up, capturing your mouth in a messy, hungry kiss. You made a noise of approval, gloved hands framing his face, and he gripped your hips like he was starved.

“God, I love your filthy brain,” he murmured against your lips.

“I’m just taking care of my man.”

“Like hell you are. You’re torturing him.”

You rolled your hips, and he swore under his breath, biting down gently on your lower lip.

“Chair’s gonna squeak,” he muttered.

You smirked. “So squeak it.”

He didn’t need more encouragement. In one fluid movement, he shifted back in the chair, dragging you with him until you were straddling his lap fully, your scrubs bunched around your hips. You were already aching.

Pedro’s fingers slipped under the hem of your top, finding bare skin. “Do you even wear underwear to work, or were you planning this?”

You grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He dipped a hand between your thighs. “Oh, baby… fuck, you’re soaked.”

You bit your lip, voice shaky now. “You did that just from flirting.”

Pedro kissed down your neck, mouthing at your collarbone. “That’s a dangerous amount of power to give me, cariño.”

“Shut up and use it.”

His fingers found your clit through your thin underwear and circled slowly, teasing. “You gonna ride me in the dental chair like a good little nurse?”

You whimpered. “If you keep talking like that…”

“You love it when I talk,” he growled, sliding your underwear to the side. “You love how fucking needy I get for you.”

He pushed two fingers inside, and you gasped, hips rocking down. “Pedro,”

“That’s it. Take it, baby.”

You gripped the headrest behind him, breath hitching as his fingers worked inside you, expertly curling just right.

The sounds in the room , wet, filthy, and breathless , mixed with your moans and the soft squeak of leather under shifting weight.

“I could come like this,” you panted. “Just your fingers,”

“No,” he growled, withdrawing. “I want to feel you. Wanna watch you lose it on top of me.”

You fumbled with his zipper, both of you laughing breathlessly as you worked together to get him free. He was already hard, precum beading at the tip.

You positioned yourself and sank down slowly, eyes fluttering shut as the stretch filled you.

“Fuck,” you both said at once.

Pedro’s hands gripped your hips tight, grounding himself as you started to move , slow, steady rolls that made him groan with every pass.

“You ride me so good,” he whispered. “Like you own me.”

You bit your lip, hips snapping faster now. “I do own you.”

He laughed, then gasped as you clenched around him.

“Shit, baby, I’m not gonna last,”

“Then don’t,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “Come with me.”

And just like that, the tension snapped. You cried out softly as your orgasm tore through you, and Pedro followed with a low groan, holding you flush against him as he spilled inside.

You both stayed there, breathless and sweaty, hearts pounding.

After a few seconds, he broke the silence.

“So,” he said, “is this covered by dental insurance?”

You burst out laughing, burying your face in his neck.

He chuckled, stroking your back. “God, I love you.”

You kissed his cheek. “Love you too, you ridiculous man.”

A beat.

Then:

“…You are gonna finish my cleaning though, right?”

You pulled back and grinned. “After you help me disinfect the chair.”

Pedro groaned dramatically. “I knew there was a catch.”

[anaburbononburbon]

Please, don't leave the baby

(Part 3)

Tw: 18+, MDNI, language, previous mentions of theft, kidnapping, threats, nothing too crazy violent

Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 4 here, Part 5 here, Part 6 here, Part 7

Divider made by @/enchanthings

Kyle couldn't believe it.

Their new headquarters, if you could even call it that, was located in the same, small town that you lived in. Kyle almost couldn't believe that he was running into you. His luck couldn't get any worse. He just had to have the new frozen yogurt that was only found in this small store located in the suburbs.

Price was going to have his head.

Before he could turn around, drop his yogurt, drag Johnny out by his Mohawk, he saw the stroller you were pushing and -

A cry.

A babies cry.

In that moment, you dropped eye contact, ignoring him completely to take care the little being in front of you. You cooed, moving your hands and doing something to make the baby settle.

Kyle's brain ran. Counting. Calculating. Double checking.

They were so strap for money, wired with nerves, almost killed twice that week.

You weren't on birth control?

Did they even ask?

"Mate, did you see these? I bet their gnarly... I'm gonna buy them." Johnny laughed, holding a bag of crisps that were 'chicken fried steak' flavor. Not getting a response from Gaz, Johnny looked around and locked eyes with the only person that Kyle couldn't stop staring at. Johnny cleared his throat, a bit amused and uncomfortable by it all. "Reason you're starin'?" Kyle's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He could barely speak but managed to get out a quick:

"Call Ghost. Call 'im now!"

Did Johnny call him?

No.

Did Johnny walk over to you and coo over your bairns? Asking you how old they were and how Dad was treating you?

Yes.

You visibly froze up, shoulders hunching, fingers twisting in your shirt as you mentioned that it was just you and the kids.

Kyle almost fainted.

Ghosts phone rang and was immediately picked up by the big man in the skull mask.

Price sat on the other side of the table with him, reading a file, figuring out a plan of attack. Both equally concerned when a call came through, especially when it said Gaz as the caller ID.

What did Johnny do now?

"What's wrong?" Simon's voice huffed, greeting excluded and Price locked eyes with the side of his head as Simon's eyes widen. Price couldn't hear what was said, but whatever it was wasn't good. Simon grunted before ending the call, eyes off in space.

Price waited a minute before huffing a sharp "out with it." Simon gulped.

"Believe we got a baby out there."

The man who was with Kyle, the man who impregnated you, stole from you, and left you less than a year ago, refused to leave your side. Happy to chat at you, walk down the aisles with you. Laugh about different flavorings of soups and stews and rices and crisps. Anything he thought was off, he laughed at.

It made your heart slam into your chest.

You knew Kyle was around, watching his friend.

They didn't know what your babies looked like exactly or if they were even theirs-

What a joke.

Johnny, as he introduced himself, wouldn't stick around if he thought they weren't.

It made you sick.

You should have stayed home. You should have ordered in.

You tried to abandon your cart, saying how you forgot your wallet at home, silly you, but Johnny came to the rescue. Offered to pay your groceries. Offered to load you up. Kept saying how a pretty hen like you shouldn't be doing this by yourself. Their father must be ashamed. What kind of a man just runs off on a person he got pregnant?

You wanted to scream.

You didn't see Kyle, but you knew he was around. He had to be close. You just also hoped that his friend wasn't near you.

How could you see both of them again? You might actually hurt them this time.

Please don't hurt my babies. Please just leave us alone. Please.

The Gods above didn't hear your begging.

Eventually your groceries were bought and paid for, courtesy of Johnny, and he happily walked you out to your car. It didn't matter how you said that you had it or you could handle it from here. None of that mattered. Johnny just kept telling you to worry about the babes and let him take care of your load.

He winked at you when he said that.

Your stomach turned.

You tried to make sure that he couldn't see your babies. That they were completely covered up as latched their car seats back in their bases but you weren't fast enough.

Johnny saw Kyle's mini me. Beautiful baby, wrapped in pink and gold. Beautiful little bow in her curly hair. Pouty lips. She would get anything she ever wanted and more.

The next baby stunned Johnny. Almost made him drop your flour if Kyle wasn't fast enough to grab it. Made him stop and look to see what caught Johnny's attention and -

Oh.

Big boy in blue and green. Inkly dark eyes. Blonde hair. Permanent scowl on his face.

Simon's clone, in the flesh.

"Fucking 'ell."

Simon's entire body froze, his heart collapsing in his chest as he locked eyes with this baby, staring with Kyle at the bundle in blue.

A son.

His son.

Simon has a son.

Simon has a -

"If you don't leave me alone, I'll call the police!" You cried out, holding a can of mace tightly in one hand and your phone in the other. Tears streaming down your face. Your eyes wild and untamed. A mother bear who saw males as threats to her cubs.

Commendable.

Who else would be do courageous for their babies?

The three men didn't say anything. Johnny stared at you as Kyle and Simon couldn't stop staring at the car seats hidden by the tinted windows.

Two babies.

Twins.

If you weren't so nervous of the men in front of you, maybe you would have heard footsteps behind you and a cold press of a knife against your throat. A sob tore through you as the man behind you hushed you gently.

"Shh, sweet thing. No need for all of this, huh? Let's get you back home with your babes. Introduce ourselves, yeah?" Price whispered, pulling the mace and phone from your hands and tossing them to the men before you. You couldn't stop crying or whimpering.

"Please don't hurt them. Don't hurt me - I- I never told. I can give you money. Nobody has to know. Nobody-" Price thought you were so sweet.

"Oh, honey. Nobody is going hurt you or those sweet little bugs. Looks like my boys got some shit to atone for, huh? Let's go. In you get." Before you could stop any of it, Johnny got in the back with the twins as Price slid in the front seat with you.

Where to go?

Do you go home? Try to make your way for help? Scream?

You heard Johnny speaking softly to them both, so close to your helpless little loves and you made up your mind:

Home you go.

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 4 here

Part 5 here

Part 6 here

Part 7 here

[berriblossom]

Could you write something where us and Mac go on a sweet date? Like a cute picnic, restaurant, honestly anything you want

-> plus a tiny pinch of my stupid hee haha funny

It was cooler put today. You and Mac had to run a few errands for the house and had to be in town for the afternoon. So you decided, why not have a good date then? Being out for the day and dealing with people this could be a perfect reward?

You two were eating outside at a table at a local restaurant, Mac sitting across from you in their wheelchair, stealing your fries while you checked your phone for the weather.

"I saw that." You place your phone down, once again your beloved plucked another fry into their mouth and smirked.

"Indeed you did, however I am proud your eyes were able to perceive that." Mac smiled and extended their arm to hold your hand, offer their free palm just to hold yours. You happily place your hand with theirs. They smile, genuinely squeezing your hands together in this soft moment.

Until you had to ruin it.

"Mac? You work with stocks all the time right?" They nod, tilting their head in wherever this may go. "Correct as always my love, why? What did you want to know?"

You knew asking anything concerning this would guarantee the reaction you were hoping for but...it is funny.

"How would you feel is I bought one if those labubu?"

The look you received as soon as that statement reached their ears. Mac pulled their hand back and pulled their glasses off. Placing them onto the table. They rubbed their face as if they expected this or worse. Now they have handled your odd, maybe even funny questions before as your computer, but now, as human, they can't discreetly hide their reaction. "Please do not tell me you actually ordered or paid for one? Their market value is too high right now meaning the fall or the crash it's going to have will be abysmal. Also personally they are ugly. So please [name] do not tell me you bought one."

The snickering heard from across the table was audible to Mac's ears, you were barley holding it together, you genuinely wanted to see their reaction but knowing Mac they would explain why this decision would be horrid to your credit. Mac takes one look at you and sighs, now they definitely know your joking. But to their expense, they did look hot explaining why.

"Ok! OK! In my defense! I did want to test your reaction, and thought it was hot for you explaining why it would be bad. You being a little more nerdy to me even if it means I have to ask low-ball questions." You huff a laugh, rubbing your cheeks to cool off from holding it in. Mac looked like a disappointed parent, but they shrugged and returned your hand holding. However despite the little shenanigans, their eyes never left you.

Even in moments like this, with the randomness that comes from being human. Mac would not trade it for the world. Being here with you was more than enough. It made then feel complete and loved. And yes they would go through thousands of these scenarios with no problem just for you. Answer any question you'd have.

"Unfortunately I do like explaining things to you, so promising for me of you find it attractive or sexy. However please confirm you did not buy one. I do not want one other those things within our home." When you nod snd confirm verbally you did not and were just teasing, Mac relaxed, their shoulders drop and they huff a breath if relief. They squeezed your palm. It was silent for a moment.

"[Name]." They called out to you, your eyes never left them, Mac could tell. They adored the way you looked at them. Always with eyes of care and love. Patiently waiting on whatever they had to offer.

Mac opened their mouth but then closes it. You already knew how much they loved you. Instead they shook their head and just smiled. A smile that was relaxing but affirming. You smiled back.

"Mac?" They hummed, waiting to hear, expecting the unexpected.

"Don't forget we have to get Roni's food. Pet store closes in 2 hours babes." Mac perked up, you two were practically almost done eating anyways and sweet treats were neary the pet store. "Can we get a box of brownies?" They looked at you, their eyes offering like a deal.

"Can we get extra cookies and maybe some tarts?" You leaned into their space, tilting your head to offer more. Mac thinks hard on it...not really they wouldn't deny a good sweet. "I belive we have an agreement then my love." You smiled and kissed their cheek.

"Alright let me go flag the waiter so we can leave, and-and! I get to pick the tarts, you pick whatever on the brownies."

Later that evening you also convinced Mac (easily) to get Roni some treats, so all 3 of you got something great after dinner.

[prcttyminds]

“We could invent one. Who knows we might make history as the next Einsteins in the medical field or something.” She chuckled playfully, her eyes filled with mirth. “Other symptoms can be attempted marriage set ups, pushing for grandchildren and constant giving of unwanted advice.” Leyla didn’t even remember the last time she laughed this much and made a mental note to herself to visit the market more often.

She shrugged her shoulders gently and nodded at Rosa’s mention of her place of origin. “Only because they don’t know Istanbul. Like any other city, it has the glamorous parts but even more not so fancy corners. Most of us didn’t grow up as rich kids.” There was no envy or resentment in her voice, just the usual warm tone she spoke with when talking about home. “They just always see what they want to see and close their eyes to what doesn’t fit their ideas or the picture they’ve created in their minds.”

Leyla thanked the vendor and chuckled at her full bag of fresh ingredients. “I keep buying enough to feed a family of five although it’s just me. I guess the neighbors and friends will have to volunteer again.” Cooking was one of her favorite things to do when she wasn’t working and she frequently provided them with home cooked meals and pastries. “But much to my mother’s dismay, I refuse to get married just so I have someone to cook for.” It was a small joke but also not untrue. “As long as they’re happy that’s all that matters. Life has a way of brining together what’s meant to be, one way or another.” She winked at Rosa teasingly. “Unfortunately they prefers a scandal over a true love story. It’s quite sad actually but that’s the world we live in. I’d still buy your book. Just don’t tell my family I’m reading that sort of stuff.”

By what she’d read about the industry so far, she wasn’t surprised about what Rosa just told her. “Like they never said something wrong themselves. It’s a shame they treat people like objects. You really need a strong backbone to handle all of that.” She admired the other woman for her courage and determination. “I probably wouldn’t last a week in the film world.” Leyla laughed again. “Meeting you today really was like winning the lottery. But there’s no need really. Any seats will do but I won’t say no to the popcorn, that’s for sure.” It wasn’t like she was ungrateful for the offer, she just didn’t want anyone to go out of their way for her. Rosa’s next words caught her a little off guard and she could feel the heat spreading to her cheeks. “Flirting?” She called out, trying to keep her voice low. Truth was, Leyla probably ever only tried to flirt about twice in her life and wouldn’t even notice when someone flirted with her anyway. “I was just being honest.”

She nodded at the mention of her instinct. “It becomes a second nature. Can’t stop it.” Leyla agreed and chuckled again at Rosa’s way to get out of small talk. “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever see you ‘fainting’.” A giggle escaped her lips at the way Rosa talked about her ex. “How do you put up with someone like that? I can’t with the type that’s only fun as long as they keep their mouth shut.” Not that she was all too experienced in that field herself but she certainly wouldn’t be comfortable with someone, if they had nothing to talk about. “They do say everything always works out the way it’s meant to in the end”

Leyla shook her head quickly. “I don’t pity people. Either encourage and support them or accept them as they are. Pity doesn’t do much good. It just drags down.” She usually didn’t like to talk about her family but for some reason it felt natural with Rosa. “It’s not easy but would it really be easier to live with someone you don’t really love? And pretend you’re someone you’re not every day? Hold yourself back just to please your family’s expectations? I don’t think I could have been truly happy following their ideas of life for me.” At the gentle nudge, she grinned mockingly. “Maybe I should have when I had the chance, but my heart was always more in love with my job than it ever was with a man.”

Rosa let out a knowing laugh, a rich, warm thing layered with mischief. “Oh, it’s definitely something in the brain. Maybe not a medical term yet, but give it time. Maternal Fixation Syndrome—symptoms include guilt-tripping, backhanded compliments, and passive-aggressive meal delivery.” She smirked, adjusting the culantro in her bag like it was a precious jewel instead of a leafy herb.

At the mention of Istanbul, Rosa’s brow lifted, genuinely impressed. “See? That’s already a more glamorous origin story than I’ve got. You say ‘Chavez Ravine’ in a casting office and they look at you like you tracked dirt into the room.” Her grin curved wider. “But hey, we can both claim dramatic backdrops. Yours has sweeping minarets. Mine had LAPD raids and rumors of ghosts.”

Rosa tilted her head at Leyla’s reaction to her parents’ story, amused. “You say ‘perfect love story,’ I say generational stubbornness with good eyebrows. But they’ve got the kind of history that makes you roll your eyes and get choked up at the same time.” She paused, a teasing glint in her eyes. “And if I ever write a book, it’ll have more sex and betrayal than love and loyalty. That's what sells in this town, not true love.”

She laughed again at Leyla’s excitement about the theater. “VIP perks, sure—but don’t let ‘em fool you. They’ll roll out a red carpet for you one night and then roll it up real quick if you say the wrong thing to the wrong columnist. But I’ll make sure you get the good seats anyway. And popcorn not laced with bitterness.” Her smirk sharpened when Leyla complimented her again. “Careful, cariño. Keep talking like that and people’ll think we’re flirting. Or worse, that I’m soft.” She winked. “But thanks. It’s always better when it’s sincere.”

Rosa followed Leyla’s glance toward the crowd, her voice lowering just slightly. “I don’t know how you do it—always looking out for emergencies like it’s instinct. Me, I’d pretend to faint just to get out of small talk.” Then, chuckling at the Kudzu bit, “Guess I should’ve kept that guy around. He was a disaster in conversation but his hips had faith. And I do love a man with rhythm—shame he had the emotional range of a saltine. But, if I had stayed with him, I wouldn't have met my husband, so everything works out as it should”

She let the laughter fade into something more reflective as Leyla talked about Hollywood and potential. “You sound like someone who doesn’t bullshit people, so I’ll take that as the highest compliment.” A beat, then she added with mock gravity, “It better not be pity though. I’m allergic to pity. I break out in sarcasm and poor life choices.”

As Leyla talked about her family’s expectations, Rosa’s expression shifted—still playful, but quieter underneath. “Mm. You’ve got guts, doing what you did. It’s easy to walk a path someone laid out for you. A hell of a lot harder to carve your own, especially when it comes with guilt trips and holiday side-eye.” She nudged her shoulder against Leyla’s. “But hey, at least you didn’t marry the first idiot who made your stomach flutter. Some of us had to learn the hard way.” While the words seemed harsh, they had a certain fondness; crapping on her husband as if she didn't look at him like he hung the moon was a favorite past time of hers.

[cyberglyphs]

Who will win the fight for Optimus Prime's love? His canon girlfriend? His worst enemy who's tried to kill him multiple times?? His best friend??? The guy who screams a lot???? Place your bets now folks!!

(Commission for me by the very talented lextodrawstuff! Also, BONUS LMAO)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Utterly old-man-core that an ideal way to use magneto’s ult is to shut down luna’s ult, some true Turn That Shit Off old mannism going on down there

[victorluvsalice]

-->And so the group returned home, where the weather was actually halfway decent. I had Smiler and Victor resume their interrupted flirting, with Smiler getting frisky and going in for the kiss before getting a drink from Victor’s wrist (as they were QUITE thirsty at this point). Alice went and collected some of the wild chrysanthemums growing by the path to the barn while I pulled her photos and her and Victor’s paintings out of their inventories – the paintings went up into the attic rec room, to be framed and put on the wall next to the couch and the microphone, while I ended up selling most of the pictures, keeping just one small one to put in the digital picture frame. Seriously, that thing is useful when it comes to small picture storage... Anyway, I sent her upstairs to look at her own painting while Smiler finished their dinner and Victor went to have his (some more pumpkin spice waffles, as I’d shoved all the food back in the fridge once they got home) –

And then I looked at the back porch, and saw NPC Ericka Wada heading to the grill to do some herbalism. O.o Uh – when did you get here and why are you using the grill? I quickly had Victor send her home, then had him clean up the herbalism pot with his own dishes once he was done with his dinner. The fuck, game – at least require me to invite people in before they start using my grill and nearly burn my house down again!

-->Anyway – Smiler ended up heading to the attic to have a chat with Alice, and I figured while they were up there, that they could practice their comedy and tell a few jokes on the microphone. I had Victor transportalate up there to join them, and he and Alice watched and enjoyed Smiler’s performance (they both got the moodlet “Briefly Amused,” so it wasn’t a real WINNER, but they did laugh, so...). I ended the impromptu comedy hour around 10 PM, after which Smiler went back to their robotics station in the barn to make a computer chip; Alice went to the kitchen to have some more focaccia for dinner; amd Victor went to the second floor blue-and-white bathroom to mop a slime creature before using the toilet. I happened to notice at this point Victor was VERY close to getting a Talent Point from his magic usage, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse and cast Floralorial on that troublesome dahlia plant. Which – did actually seem to finally clear the glitch-weeds, when not even shift-clicking would. O.o Fingers crossed people! It also got him the Talent Point, which I promptly spent on “Hexproof” to protect him from all curses. :) I then pulled all of Alice’s super-vitality fertilizers out of her inventory (she didn't notice, she was busy playing laser pointer with Kelly in the back entrance mudroom) and put them into Victor’s so he could sprinkle them on all the oversized crops (though admittedly it looks like they’re all gonna be normal-sized crops this time), before noticing another specter outside the greenhouse and sending him over to give them a Potion of Good Fortune. They appreciated it and left Victor a forbidden candy jar, but as we already have three (one in the kitchen, one on the back porch, and Alice has the third in her inventory), I had Victor just straight-up sell that to an oddity collector. There's only so many oddities these three can collect after all!

-->And then – okay, I didn't get any pictures of this, but you'll see why I didn't in a second. After selling the candy jar, Shadow ran up to Victor whining about a ball – I figured “okay, let’s play fetch with the dog, I already have Alice playing laser pointer with the cats” (she'd moved onto entertaining I think Shock on the front porch by this point) and had Victor grab the ball in his inventory –

Only for Shadow to run away as another NPC showed upon the front porch for no good reason. *sigh* I had Alice send the person on the porch (Maya, I think her name was) away once she was done with the laser pointer, and waited for Shadow to finish her business so I could try to get the game of fetch back on. She headed upstairs and into Smiler’s room and approached their desk –

And then did that horrific glitch thing where pets try to stand up like Sims but their legs get all thin and distorted and their heads end up going backwards. O.o It only lasted for a moment, but as you might imagine, it triggered another MCCC error. (I think the dog was trying to play with one of the chatterbots on Smiler’s desk – maybe the NPC wanted to do that and the game got confused?) And kind of killed my desire for fetch. XD Fortunately, at that point I realized that it was actually after midnight in the game and decided it was a good time to wrap things up with the trio, saving and closing.

And that was the gang's Summer Tuesday! Nice, productive day for them – I’m glad to see that their snack business is doing pretty well. :D And I have to admit, it’s a little more fun to take the food stand around all the different worlds than just do the same thing over and over at the grocery store. But I still want to sell everything in their store before I do anything different with it. :p Next time we hit this save, though, the trio will be heading to Chestnut Ridge for SimCity Founding! We'll see you then!

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[pukicho]

You've changed, man. I don't know what it is but some time in the past six months your shitposting got a bitter edge to it. Sure you could blame the political climate or world events on it but...I dunno. I used to scroll your blog to momentarily escape the hardships of today but now it feels like even you're not a safe place any more. I wish you luck on your journeys onwards but I'm sorry to say I cannot travel with you any more. Be well, puki, and I hope whatever troubles you passes.

Escapism is important and I try to offer that to a degree, but ultimately, I am a person. I experience hardships, I empathize with the worsening conditions of my world. As long as I care about things external to myself, I will subtlety, or blatantly express them in some way in my blog, which I’ve done for years, not merely 6 months.

Unbeknownst to you, these concerns are often the inspiration for some of my most beloved posts.

You’re free to leave of course, if my 1 serious post out of every 30 fucks your day up that badly, then please, feel free! - I simply don’t see my blog as escapist fluff, it never has been, even if that is often the outcome. My page has always been about my interests, and I just so happen to enjoy making people laugh.

I see it more as a fun place to hang out and express the feelings I feel inclined to express, most of which are fun and goofy, some of which are not. I love our little playful back-and-forths, and I enjoy seeing your insights, even if some of you are fucking stupid as shit. Sometimes I just like using you guys as little guinea pigs, testing my odd expressions out on you, and sitting back and seeing the outcome.

Ultimately, I try to balance balance 3 things on my page:

Comedy, as you know - I like making jokes, I like testing them out on people. Even if they suck, I like writing them regardless. Sometimes I sit back after writing something I know objectively sucks, hit send, and watch as everyone tells me how much it sucks. It brings me joy.

A desire for money - because if not, I wouldn't be able to make posts half as often as I do (ie, shirt sales, promoting my music, etc) - Sometimes that anxiety for money also bleeds into my posts, it has for years; and I hold back from being even more desperate about money than I feel I should be sometimes.

And the point you brought up: The occasional comment on something real that matters to me. - Over the past 3 years, if not longer, I’ve made a few uncharacteristically-serious statements on things like Covid, Gaza, The Presidency, hell, even the indigenous people of Australia... and more.

Why do I feel inclined to discuss these things? Because I want to. My page has always been about what I want. Fortunately for you, what I usually want to do is to make you laugh! But sometimes I wish to express other feelings, because I have a platform that allows my voice to travel further than that of others!

For those angry at all the qualms I don't bring up, try to understand my balancing act, as someone who understands your desire for escapism, and the comfort that it brings you. If the veil falls, remember, we are of like-company - - and maybe, this veil was only ever in your head to begin with.

[dailynnt]

QUARTER PAST FOUR

⏲︎ Summary: You haven’t seen him in two months. Not since that night you told him you wanted more — and he vanished. But tonight, while you’re trying to move on, laughing beside another man in a crowded nightclub… you see him. Those same dark eyes. That same smirk that undresses you with a glance. He used to come to you at 4:15 AM. No calls. No words. Just him, and your body, and that dangerous kind of love that leaves you bleeding. Now he’s back. And you’re about to find out if your heart can survive him a second time.

︎⏲︎ Couple: Jeon Jungkook x Reader, Jungkook x Y/N

⏲︎ Age restrictions: 18+

⏲︎ Size: mini series (12 500+ words)

⏲︎ Chapters: #01 | #02 | #03

⏲︎ Tags: ex situationship, smut, angst, toxic relationship, dom!Jungkook, emotionally vulnerable!Reader, crime, mention murder, emotional damage, pining, obsession, mutual desire, hot and cold dynamic, fwb turned heartbreak, slow burn (kind of), breakup aftermath, late night regrets, he comes back, still not over you, you can’t resist him, painfully in love, emotional manipulation, denial of feelings, he knows what he’s doing, dominant jungkook, rough sex, public teasing, car sex, dirty talk, jealous sex, praise kink, possessive jungkook, desperate need, wet panties, he ghosted you, you fell first, he fell later, reader has self-respect but also horny, he always finds his way back, you said it was the last time (but it wasn’t)

⏲︎ From author: Note at the end of the story👇🏻 Once again, I couldn't keep it short 🤭

⏲︎ Dedication: to love of my life @curse-of-art. My beloved, this is dedicated to you because you love every version of my Jungkook. I love you with all my heart and soul 🫠🥰💗

⏲︎ Permanent tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @someoneelse0109, @kooklovee, @kookiesncreamri, @kooko009, @bhonbhon, @smokinghotstargirl, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @indigomoonchild09, @goldenboysmuse, @hisdecalcomania17, @ggingerismm, @tranquilreign, @asyr97, @mar-lo-pap, @diame93, @kash98 (If anyone wants to be add to my permanent list of tags, let me know 🥰)

⏲︎ Warning: This fanfic contains explicit sexual content, toxic dynamics, emotional angst, manipulation, jealousy, and messy unresolved feelings. If you’re sensitive to themes of heartbreak, obsession, or unhealthy attachment — please read with caution. Also, English is not my first language, so there may be awkward phrasing or unusual sentence constructions here and there 🥺 Thank you for your understanding 🙂‍↕️

The nightclub pulsated with lights and rhythm. Any heavy thoughts dissolved in the bass vibrations in your chest. Alcohol, human bodies, smoke, and light—everything merged into one endless night. You sat on the sofa with your colleagues — after a stressful week, it was a well-deserved rest. Instead of the usual trip to a restaurant with grilled beef and soju, one of your colleagues, Inha, suggested going to a club, and everyone agreed that it was a good idea.

Your glass was not yet empty, and the smile you gave the guy next to you seemed sincere. He was new to the department, handsome, and easy to talk to. His hand accidentally touched your shoulder, his jokes made you laugh, and you felt the attention you had been missing for so long.

Each cocktail seemed to relieve the tension from your shoulders. The image of one man who had been haunting you for a long time was fading. His features were blurring, disappearing somewhere in the fog of the night lights.

And now all you saw was Donmin. His attentive gaze. His closeness. His desire, which was evident in his every movement.

You hadn't had sex in over two months. Not since Jungkook disappeared. The thought of giving yourself to someone else finally stopped seeming impossible. It lit up in your head like a green light, alarming and seductive.

The evening continued. For the first time in a long time, your mood was genuinely positive. Four cocktails brought a sense of lightness and carefreeness. And when Donmin sat closer, touching your thighs with his, you did not pull away.

"Are you sure you can handle another one?" His voice was soft, his gaze playful. You clamped the straw between your lips and sipped the liquid, feeling the bitter taste of the cocktail on your tongue.

"I'm much tougher than you think," you smiled. You weren't trying to be seductive. But it came naturally. His gaze lingered on your lips, then slowly rose to your eyes. Donmin leaned closer, his hot breath touching your ear.

"I want to kiss you," he whispered.

But his words were like background noise mixed with loud bass. Your eyes met a gaze you didn't expect to see. Eyes you swore you would never look for again. And yet... they were looking at you.

A few tables ahead of yours, you saw Jungkook. He was watching you intently — and you didn't know how long he had been staring. But when your eyes met his, a cheeky, familiar smile slowly appeared on his lips, sending a wave of heat through your body.

Jungkook. The man who caused you emotional pain. The man you fell in love with, even though you had no right to.

You knew what he was like — not someone who would offer a serious relationship, not someone with whom you would have a happy marriage. But there was something magnetic about him. Something that made every cell in your body burn with endless fire.

You turned away.

You took a sip of your cocktail, trying to hide behind your glass. You turned away so you wouldn't see him anymore — not his eyes, not his smile.

But your heart was already pounding like crazy.

And Donmin noticed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning a little closer.

"Yes," you replied, forcing a smile. But inside, your insides felt like they were being beaten with a spoon.

Donmin looked awkward because he had confessed that he wanted to kiss you. But you didn't notice that; you were trying to control the wave of emotions inside you. He thought you had taken his confession too seriously.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry if I was pushy..." he said guiltily. You looked up at him and tried to understand what he meant for a few seconds, and when you understood, you decided to smooth things over.

"It's okay, I like you too, but I don't want to rush things," you said kindly. He nodded in agreement, relieved, and continued talking to you.

The other colleagues who came with you to the club returned to the table after dancing. You tried to hold back, but the thought of Jungkook being there, and so close, made you feel noticeably nervous.

You accidentally glanced in his direction while watching a colleague tell a story and saw Jongkook's face again. He was still sitting at that table in the company of men. You saw his profile, the line of his jaw that you had studied so well with your lips. He was turned toward his friend and laughing. You saw his nose wrinkle and his double piercing glint in the neon light. His satisfied smile made your heart ache. Jungkook was indecently attractive, and you didn't know how he could be even more attractive to you, considering the fact that he had disappeared without any explanation.

You met him a little over four months ago.

It was your colleague's friend's party in honor of her thirtieth birthday. You didn't expect anything special from that day — just another birthday, another evening in the company of friends and strangers. Sajin invited you to a restaurant and said she would introduce you to some guy named Jungkook, her boyfriend's friend. She said you would like him when she heard about your passion for tattoos.

You went to that party without any hope of meeting anyone, you even forgot that your friend had reminded you several times that he would be there too.

You were terribly late to the restaurant because you had a problem with the dress you had to buy at the last minute. You arrived by taxi. Thanking the driver on the way, you quickly got out of the car, holding a lush bouquet of flowers and a large gift package in your hands.

The heels on your shoes didn't hold you properly because you were in a hurry, and you stumbled several times.

Looking to make sure you didn't catch your skirt, you didn't see where you were going and almost ran into a man in front of the restaurant entrance.

He held you with his hands so you wouldn't fall.

"Hey, be careful," you heard his voice. You didn't look up, walking away while still feeling his hands on your forearms. You bowed quickly several times, apologizing.

But when you looked up and saw him, your heart skipped a beat.

The first thing you saw were his eyes.

Dark, heavy, with a gaze that seemed to read you instantly. And then — the tattoo. It started at his fingers, ran up his entire right arm and disappeared somewhere under the edge of his T-shirt, peeking out from behind his collar and touching his collarbone.

The design was colorful, graphic, with thick lines. His lips were adorned with a double piercing.

The metal rings glistened in the light of the sun. And, damn it, it looked... damn attractive.

His hair was dark, parted in the middle, with a falling fringe.

A black T-shirt hugged his body, emphasizing his muscles. And on his hips were classic black pants. He was dressed stylishly, but his image was completely rebellious.

You stared at him for too long and only came to your senses when he smiled playfully.

"The party hasn't started yet, you're just in time," he said, looking you up and down. And the way he did it so brazenly and slowly made you feel like you'd been electrocuted.

Your heart sank. Your breath caught in your throat. You nodded with a slight smile, hiding your nervousness behind restraint.

"Thank you," you said, walking past the guy and hurrying to the restaurant. Not seeing him turn around, take out a cigarette, and keep his eyes on your figure.

Later, Sajin introduced you officially.

"This is Jungkook," she said. "He's my Jimin's best friend. They grew up together," and then you realized that this was the same guy your friend had wanted to introduce you to for so long.

"Nice to meet you," you replied, but he didn't shake your hand.

He lingered his eyes on your lips and said,

"Nice to meet you too," he smiled as if he had already decided he wanted you. You had a short conversation in front of Sajin, and as he was leaving, he said, "See you later."

You had a good time, and constantly keeping your eye on Jungkook. His gaze constantly met yours, and you couldn't help but notice the spark that ignited between you instantly. Jungkook was with his friends for a while, but when your eyes lingered longer, he decided to approach you.

You talked, he asked you a lot of questions, and you willingly answered. And when you tried to ask him something about himself, he skillfully avoided the questions, distracting you with casual touches, questions about your jewelry or dress.

Towards the end of the party, you became even closer to Jungkook. You remember wanting to dance, so you went to the dance floor. You asked him to dance with you, but he remained standing by the table where you were drinking champagne. You moved with a feeling of freedom and lightness, and suddenly felt him standing behind you. His palm touched your thigh. You turned around to meet his playful eyes. You smiled seductively, touching his crotch with your buttocks.

He endured only a few movements, then leaned over and whispered in your ear:

"You shouldn't tease me with your sweet buttocks, otherwise I can't be held responsible for my actions."

His breath and low voice in your ear sent a wave of goosebumps down your body, awakening your desire.

You continued to rub against his crotch, pressing so that there was not even a millimeter between you. Your back touched his chest, and his palms rested on your thighs, as if that was the place they were meant to be.

"Am I really teasing you?" you asked innocently. Jungkook squeezed your thighs with his fingers, and you could clearly feel his cock getting hard. He turned your face, moving in time with you and the music. The people around you seemed not to notice you, just as you did not notice them. Jongkook stared at your lips, and you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"You've teased me and you must be punished for it," he said. Your lips spread into a cheeky smile, and the next moment his lips were already on yours. His tongue entered your mouth, intertwining with yours. He was persistent, his lips soft and demanding at the same time. You felt yourself getting wet. His cock was pressing against your buttocks, and all you wanted was for Jungkook to fuck you.

You weren't a fan of sex on the first date or with a stranger, but Jungkook completely changed your views. He broke away from your lips, still holding you close. He looked into your eyes for a few seconds, seeing only complete desire and your consent. He took your hand and silently led you to the bathroom.

He fucked you right on the table by the sink. Jungkook was dominant but attentive to every part of your body. He touched you, bringing you to blissful pleasure like no one else before him. He did everything to make sure you got the most pleasure, and his dirty talk during sex enhanced the effect of his actions. That evening, you had the best orgasms of your life and were glad you let it happen.

He smiled at you in the mirror after he came on you, his forehead covered in sweat. You quickly cleaned yourselves up and returned to the hall unnoticed.

In the early morning, he drove you home in his car. The black Genesis GV80 matched his image, and he looked so natural behind the wheel of this car.

As you said goodbye, Jungkook kissed you and you exchanged numbers.

And you remember that you didn't expect a message or a call from him. You thought Jungkook looked like the type who had casual relationships. But when he came to your house the next evening, you definitely didn't expect it, and you were pleasantly surprised that he actually remembered where you lived. But he remembered.

And since then, he started coming over. Late. No calls, no warnings. He just showed up — sometimes at night, sometimes in the early morning. You got used to waiting for him, and he came. At first, it was less often, but then more and more often. Each of your meetings began with a glance, a casual conversation. And ended with sex.

It wasn't love. You weren't a couple. You just became friends with benefits, with crazy sex that was like a drug for both of you. Your meetings continued for several months until Jungkook disappeared.

You turned your head away so he wouldn't notice your gaze. It was getting harder and harder to be in that club.

You warned that you were going to the bathroom when your bladder was overflowing. You got up, leaving your glass on the table, and headed for the hallway. People were crowded around the entrance to the restroom — some were smoking, some were kissing, laughing, holding hands. The space was stuffy and filled with the scents of perfume, smoke, and alcohol.

You went into the women's restroom. You closed the door. You just sat down, sighed, and closed your eyes for a few seconds.

It was supposed to be a normal evening. It was supposed to be a step forward. But everything was pulling you back again.

When you came out, your thoughts had calmed down a little. Until the moment when you were almost back at the entrance to the hall — you bumped into him.

Jungkook was standing right in front of you.

As always, he was calm, confident, almost defiantly relaxed.

You took a step to the side, trying to walk past him, but he took a step with you, blocking your way. You tried again to walk past him, but at that moment, his hand rested on your waist. You felt yourself being pressed against the cold wall.

"Did you really want to walk past without even saying hello?" he asked quietly but defiantly. Your jaw tensed.

"Does someone who ran away as soon as they heard a confession of love need a greeting?" you replied sarcastically.

He smiled.

He slowly ran his fingers down your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Have you fallen out of love with me so quickly that you don't even want to say 'hello'?"

You were angry that he had the audacity to mention your feelings for him.

"Go to hell," you said clearly, clenching your teeth. He grimaced as if he had heard something really unpleasant, but with a playful note.

"You shouldn't be mad at me," his smile didn't fade. "We agreed it was just sex. I didn't know you would take it so seriously."

You raised your eyebrows, and the memory of night when you see him at the last time flashed unpleasantly through your mind.

You were in your bathroom. It was almost 5 a.m., and Jungkook often came at 4:15 a.m. Lately, he had been coming at exactly that time. When you asked him why he came at that time almost every morning, you only got a long, greedy kiss and the words, "I missed my favorite pussy."

You wanted to hear that he missed you, not the opportunity to fuck you.

Jungkook also often came home with scratches, which you carefully treated. Your intuition screamed that he was involved in something... dark. But you kept quiet and didn't ask any more questions. Because you saw how he avoided them, and you wanted him. Only him.

You began to feel that sex alone was no longer enough for you. You wanted this man not only at night, you wanted him to be with you during the day as well. The way he treated you, being attentive and caring after sex, created the illusion of mutual feelings that seemed to offer hope. But as it turned out, Jungkook had a completely different perception of your relationship.

He was deep inside you. You sat on top of him, pressed tightly against his body under the citrus-scented water. Foam covered your hands, and warm water spilled out every time he moved sharply inside you, trying to go deeper, stimulating your G-spot with his large, thick cock.

You merged in another passionate kiss, which was never enough. Jungkook fucked you, enjoying the tightness of your pussy.

You broke the kiss and pressed your forehead against his, moaning with pleasure. He kissed your neck, moving inside you, and you whispered:

"Kook..." He didn't answer, just continued kissing and fucking you. "I feel so good... I feel so good with you..." you said between moans. Hearing your words, Jongkook looked up at you and quickened his movements. You, in turn, moved to meet his hips.

You opened your eyes and saw him looking at you with burning eyes.

"Maybe we should see each other more often... Not just at night?" you asked, pausing for a moment. Jungkook also froze at your question, then thrust into you as deeply as possible, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Are you really so greedy for my cock that you want to see me more often?" he smiled playfully. But there was no lightness in his gaze. You remembered how to breathe, feeling blissful pleasure between your legs.

"No... It's just... I think we could spend more time together," you tried to catch your breath while Jungkook rhythmically fucked you, while you wanted to say important things. He looked at you without taking his eyes off you. "I want to be closer to you..." you gathered your courage and said, "You... are constantly on my mind, and I feel like I feel something more than just physical attraction to you."

Jungkook stopped, and you felt something stir in your lower abdomen. His face was serious, but when he spoke, his voice sounded mocking:

"Are you in love with me?"

You didn't expect him to ask that question directly. And you weren't ready to say it right now, but what you felt for Jungkook was love. It was clear from the way he never left your thoughts, from the way you liked absolutely everything about him: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his jawline, every mole, the one under his lip and the one on his neck specifically, his voice, his soft hair, his tattoos, his piercings, his body, his fingers, his laugh, his humor, his way of thinking. There was nothing you didn't like about him.

"What will you do if it's true?" you asked. Jungkook raised one eyebrow, and you could clearly see the smirk on his face and that he wasn't being serious. He suddenly grabbed your waist with one hand and held your butt under the water with the other. You found yourself a few inches from his lips:

"Stop it," he interrupted coldly. "What people call 'love' will never be between us," he said seriously, and those words cut you like a knife. You wanted to get off him, to escape from the bathtub. But he held you, forced you to stay, not letting you get off, moving even deeper — and your weakness won again.

When you woke up in the afternoon, he was no longer there. You waited until the next morning, but he didn't come. You waited for the next few days, a week, and not a word, not a message from him. He disappeared. He just disappeared without explanation.

So now, looking at him, you feel the unbearable pain you suffered when he left, breaking your heart. For the first time, you sincerely wanted to slap someone.

"I don't want to know you, take your hands off me," you said, trying to break free from his grip, but without success. His body is too strong against yours.

He leaned closer, touched your temple with his nose, slid to your ear, and whispered:

"I don't believe you didn't miss me. Because I missed you. A lot."

You could barely contain yourself, your heart was pounding, and those damn butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. But you couldn't give in to him just because he said he missed you. If he really missed you, why didn't he come back sooner? Where had he been for the past two months? You raised your eyebrows even higher and said spitefully:

"I'm here with my colleague. I already have a partner. So I don't have time to miss you."

Jungkook's face tensed, but he smiled again.

"Is that the clown who was sitting next to you? All you did was laugh at him. He really does look like a joke."

You smiled too, realizing that you had hit him hard.

"Clown or no, he has every chance of fucking me tonight," you said cheekily. "And with you... it's over. So stop holding me back. Let go!" you said colorlessly.

The muscles in Jungkook's jaw twitched. He nervously touched the tip of his piercing with his tongue.

"You know," he leaned toward your lips, his voice becoming hoarse, "that no one fucks your pussy better than me."

Your pulse pounded in your temples. Your pupils dilated. You held your breath. And at that moment, his lips fell on yours — greedily, deeply, with all the passion that still lived between you.

At first you tried to pull away, but you gave up. His hands slid down to your buttocks, one sliding up your thigh to where the incision was. His palm touched your buttock and squeezed it hard. You felt yourself getting wet — just from that kiss. When he pulled away, you were both breathing heavily.

"I want you. Right now..." Jungkook whispered lowly, touching your forehead with his.

"No. I can't… I'm with my colleagues... I'm already long time to gone. They'll be looking for me..." you said, trying to stop it from happening. Even though it was what you had wanted so badly for the past few damn months. Jongkook just smiled, not taking your lame excuses seriously. His thumb touched your lips, pressing them gently.

"The parking lot. In ten minutes. I'll be waiting," he leaned down, bit your lower lip, and left.

You stood there, confused and excited. You couldn't gather your thoughts after everything that had happened. You tried to calm down. You adjusted your skirt. You took a deep breath. And you walked back to the table. You returned to your colleagues with a forced smile, trying to appear calm, but everything inside you was trembling. Your body was pulsing. Your legs felt like cotton. And in your head... there was only him.

You sat down next to Donmin, mechanically picked up your cocktail and took a few sips without hearing a word. In your imagination, Jungkook's gaze, his hands, his lips on yours were still burning.

Your body had already made its choice — it wanted him. So much so that it seemed you would go mad if you didn't feel him again.

But your mind was on fire. You needed to restrain yourself and not go to him. If you didn't go now, you might save yourself from further pain, which was only just beginning to subside. Perhaps if you don't go, you will finally become stronger and show Jungkook that he has no power over you. However, it was enough to remember his voice for a moment and how he said he wanted you to realize that you had lost this battle with yourself. Once again.

"I'm sorry... I... I need to make a call, it's very urgent..." you muttered, leaning toward Donmin, feigning shy guilt.

"It's okay. Don't rush," he smiled, completely unaware of what you were about to do.

Your feet carried you across the hall, through the neon lights, through the music that no longer mattered. You stepped outside. The cool air hit your face. You held your breath.

"I'm crazy," you said to yourself and moved on.

The parking lot was dimly lit. Cars were parked in rows. Jungkook was standing there leaning against the hood of his black Genesis, smoking. The closer you got, the faster your heart beat, but your need for this man was stronger than any emotion or fear inside you.

Jungkook was wearing a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves that exposed his tattoos. His piercing glinted in the light of the streetlamp when he turned his head. Jungkook threw away his cigarette butt when he noticed you.

The look he gave you...

If looks could undress, you would already be naked.

"You came," he said with a smile, as if it couldn't be any other way.

You were silent. You just stood a few steps away from him. And he approached you. Closer.

His fingers touched your cheek, lightly, barely... and you felt that hot wave inside you start to burn again.

Jungkook kissed you, turning you toward the car and pressing you against it. It’s felt like fireworks inside you. Jungkook kissed you desperately, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

You clenched your fingers into his shirt at the back, moving your lips and tongue against his with no less passion. The desire that had been building up for two months burst out. And no one could stop you anymore.

When you found yourselves in the back seat of the car, he pulled you toward him, and you ended up on his lap. His lips pressed against yours again — hot, greedy. His hands tugged at your blouse, and you were already unbuttoning his belt.

Your breath was ragged, and your heart was pounding as if it were about to burst out of your chest. You felt his fingers find you under your skirt, sliding suddenly to the wet center of your desire.

"You're already wet... for me, aren't you?" he whispered, squeezing your thigh.

You moaned as his movements on your clitoris became more intense. Jungkook watched your face with great pleasure, smearing the wetness between your folds, bringing you closer to orgasm.

You sating on him, face to face, and you could feel how aroused he was. His cock pressed right into your center, making you want more.

"I missed this pussy so much..." he whispered, pulling you close to him, his voice rough with desire. Leaving your pussy, his hands remove your blouse and he brazenly pushes your bra up to see your breasts. His fingers — confident, slightly rough, with scars on his knuckles — squeeze your nipples, playing with them while he kisses you.

Your moans merge with his breathing as Jungkook's tongue penetrates your mouth. He tastes you greedily, and your head is already spinning with pleasure, with Jungkook and the sensations he evokes in you.

Jungkook's lips slide down to your neck, biting your skin, leaving marks like seals of his right to you. You move your hips, making his cock harder. Jungkook squeezes your breasts with his palms and kisses them. His tongue sucks on your nipple. You watch Jungkook suck your nipple, running your fingers through his hair.

He with big pleasure your breasts while pressing your buttocks with his other hand, forcing you to rub against his cock. You hear his low growl, which sends shivers down your spine, and inside, everything tightens into a tight ball of anticipation.

"Take it off," he whispers, helping you slip off your skirt. You rise for a moment to pull down your panties — they're wet, just like you are.

He unzips his jeans, frees himself, and your eyes involuntarily drop — he is hard, ready, his tip glistening with excitement.

Jungkook grabs your waist and forces you onto him. You gasp, near his ear, holding your breath, feeling the pain. But the feeling of being filled with his cock is what you love most.

"Fuck..." he moaned, plunging into you all the way. A soft whimper escaped your lips , overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure that engulfs you.

Jungkook begins to move his hips, and you instantly feel pleasure. He picks up the pace, and you cannot hold back the moans that accompany every movement of your bodies. Jungkook kisses you deeply, sweetly. He parts your lips and smiles. You move your hips to meet his, feeling every inch of his cock inside you.

"Yes, yes... just like that..." you whisper, squeezing his shoulders, giving in to the rhythm that turns you into pure desire. Your body is on fire, his touch is like fire.

"It’s good to you, baby?" Jungkook asks you with a cheeky smile on his lips, not stopping for a second.

"Yes," you say as you exhale.

"Hmm..." he grunts, "Yeah... it’s right no one fucks this pussy better than me."

Jungkook pressed you even tighter, as if wanting to convey all the power of his desire to you. His hands squeezed your buttocks harder. You felt your pulse beating in your temples, and every touch ignited you from within to an incredible heat.

Jungkook rose a little higher to increase the depth of penetration, and you felt a wave of even greater pleasure wash over your entire body. His movements became faster and more decisive, as if he wanted to drown himself in all this long-awaited pain and desire. Your heart was beating so loudly that it seemed even the night could hear it. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the strength and tension of his muscles under your fingers.

You felt him harden inside you, and your walls felt the approach of pleasure, but Jungkook stopped. You opened your eyes to meet his full, hungry gaze. Your body begged for more.

"I want you from behind," his voice was low, slightly breathless. He lifted you up and you climbed off his lap. You turned around, kneeling with your back to him. Jungkook positioned himself behind you and his hands instantly slid around your waist, gently but firmly. His breath—burning, hot—touched your back. He made a trail of kisses along your spine.

Jungkook straightened up and, placing the head of his cock at your entrance, entered you again with one sharp thrust. You heard him moan. And it was so sexy.

"Yes. That's how you look perfect. My obedient girl..." He covered you with his body, touched your shoulder blade with his lips and whispered, "Hold on. Because I won't spare you," said Jungkook, finding your clitoris with his fingers. He smeared your wetness, stimulating you.

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back a moan, but the rhythm of his fingers and thrusts quickly made you let go of all restraint. His movements were somewhat rough but precise — he knew how to hit every sensitive spot inside you.

His lips touched your ear and you felt his heavy breathing, which made you even more desperate.

"You're so quiet today," Jungkook remarked, "I want to hear you, don't hold back your moans for me, baby. Scream," he commanded.

You obeyed him and no longer held back your voice, and your moans echoed loudly, filling the entire space between you.

Jungkook sped up, going wild, merging with you into a single body burning with passion. You felt the wave of orgasm already at the threshold, but he suddenly stopped again.

"It's not time yet," he said in a low voice. "I want you longer..." He turned you back around abruptly, lifted you onto his lap again, pressed his lips to yours, and kissed you so that you felt like you were floating in the endless ocean of his passion.

He turned you around and sat you on his cock. You felt it slide inside you. Jungkook's hands squeezed your breasts, and his lips kissed your neck. You grabbed the driver's seat for some support. His hands slid down to your hips, and he began to fuck you frantically.

Jungkook moved with such fury and power that you had no chance of forgetting reality. Each thrust was deep and penetrating, making your body tremble with excitement and pain at the same time, mixing sweet pleasure and sharp passion. You felt every cell, every nerve enveloped in a burning fire that grew stronger with each of his movements.

He possessed you, knew your every secret desire and subtly manipulated them. His fingers slid to your clitoris, stimulating you further, and his lips left hot marks on your neck and shoulders, like a brand confirming that you belonged only to him.

You swear that no one could fuck you better than him, and that made you happy and annoyed at the same time.

But you couldn't think about the messed-up relationship between you; all you could think and feel was the approaching wave of pleasure.

Jungkook squeezed your thighs, lifting you up and lowering you back down with incredible force. You felt every movement bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

The explosion of orgasm overwhelmed you like a storm, you clenched your fingers on the seat you were holding onto, surrendering to every wave of pleasure, and he didn't stop, putting all his strength and desire into every movement. You felt him accelerating to his peak, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wanted to remembered that moment forever.

"I'm... going to..." he muttered, and at that moment you felt Jungkook spill inside you. His cock twitched, releasing his semen. Jungkook pressed his forehead against your back, and soon you both froze.

Your breathing was heavy. You sat on his cock for a while, recovering from your orgasm. And when you finally came to your senses, you moved. Jungkook straightened up behind you too. You felt him caressing your thighs, as if to calm you, and then one of his hands reached for your chin and he turned you toward him.

Jungkook's lips were on yours, his tongue entered your mouth unhindered, completely taking possession of yours. You kissed, putting an end to today's moment of passion. When he separated your lips, you clearly understood what had happened, and the awkwardness of the moment began to weigh on you.

You turned away and climbed off his lap, sitting down next to him. You silently began to get dressed, feeling Jungkook's gaze on you. He sat with his legs spread, naked. His cock glistened with your juices and his cum.

"Are you just going to leave silently?" Jungkook broke the silence. You felt a twinge inside from his rough, low voice, the one you loved to hear more than anything else in the world.

"What am I supposed to say?" you asked, pulling your skirt over your hips. Jungkook leaned toward your face, his lips almost touching yours. You stared at his lips, frozen.

"I don't know. Something like you've been waiting for your best orgasm for months and it finally happened," you raised your eyebrows. You forgot how rough and harsh he was in his words. "Or that you missed me and still love me..."

Jungkook seemed to be mocking you. And you couldn't let him enjoy the fact that you were suffering from unrequited love for him.

"All I can tell you now is that it was the last time. My parting gift to you," you smiled confidently and slowly, seeing his confusion, which he tried so hard to hide. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, and you put on your blouse and started buttoning it up. Your fingers were shaking, and you wanted to leave his car as quickly as possible.

"In what sense parting gift?" Jungkook asked, and you felt the tension in his voice.

"Literally. I don't want to see you anymore," you turned to him, trying not to look down. "I've been through it all. And I don't need your attention anymore. I'll find another man who will love me, not just want to fuck me," you got fully dressed, ready to go.

"Really?" Jungkook raised his eyebrow mockingly. "Is your clown first in line for that role?"

You gave him a cold look, then moved toward the door. You knew it wasn't locked, and that made you happy.

"All the best," you said, opening the car door and stepping out into the cool night, feeling Jungkook on every inch of your body.

You returned to your colleagues and spent the rest of the night in their company. Your mind was far away from them and their conversations. Your thoughts kept returning to Jungkook and the sex you had in his car. You don't really regret what happened. You want to put an end to your strange relationship with him, which in essence was not a relationship at all. However, you are almost powerless when he is around.

If it didn't hurt so much, you would forget Jungkook and find a man worthy of you who would want you not only at night, but also during the day. Jungkook is not a guy for a serious relationship, and you made a mistake falling in love with him.

Donmin, who never left your side, seemed like a really nice guy. So you let him sit closer, touch you, but his touch didn't spark anything. It wasn't like with Jungkook, who made your skin tingle from the very first touch. You sat next to him, barely listening to him, feeling Jungkook's semen dripping onto your underwear.

And again, the image of the one you wanted to erase is in your head. His eyes. His breath. His cock inside you. His voice...

"You know that no one fucks your pussy better than me..." These words cut deep, yet they also aroused you. You want he gone... You closed your eyes. You decided that this was the end. That this was the final nail in the coffin. A parting gift. But your body... it was as if it still belonged to him.

But the way he treated you led to a sober realization: he disappeared without explanation, and that says a lot. You didn't know where he had been all this time, what he had been doing, or with who he was. So how could you let someone back in who had already broken you with his silence?

Forget him. Erase him. It's over. But something else echoes in your head: No one can replace him. His warmth. His voice. His body. The way he looked at you after...

You squeezed your legs tighter. Feeling how the wetness still reminded you of him. Of him inside you. And you knew — love doesn't disappear so quickly.

It just hides under anger. Under pain. Under feigned indifference.

But now... Now you didn't want to play this war with yourself anymore.

"If only my eyes hadn't seen..." you thought. Because then, maybe your heart would have forgotten. But the truth was different. It was love. Painful, wrong, not the kind that brought pleasant feelings, but the kind that left deep wounds that hurt.

In the early morning, you let Donmin walk you home. He was kind, attentive, gentle. He said something — you nodded. But you hardly heard him.

When you stopped in front of the house, Donmin hugged you goodbye, saying he would see you at work. You hugged him back and said that if he wanted to, he could call. That was your way of hinting that you were open to developing your relationship. Donmin was more than happy and asked if he could call later that day to see how you were feeling, and you nodded, saying you would eagerly await to it. He nodded and left.

You went into the house. You took off your shoes, threw your purse on the nightstand, and removed your earrings. Your fingers touched the collar of your blouse, and the fatigue slipped from your shoulders. You began to undress. Everything in you wanted to be cleansed—your soul and your body. You headed toward the bathroom. Something unpleasant stirred in your chest. Donmin was a chance to start a new, healthy relationship, but somewhere deep inside, you weren't ready for it.

You touched the zipper on your skirt and pulled it down. The skirt fell to the floor and you were left in your underwear. You picked up the skirt, clutching it in your hands. The memory of how Jungkook had lifted it up on you today made you feel a wave of excitement and sadness. You involuntarily glanced at the clock on the dresser and saw that it was 4:14. Before your eyes, the minute changed and now the clock showed 4:15. Your heart quickened. This was the same time that Jungkook often came to see you. Almost every morning at 4:15, he was at your door, and you waited for him. You let him in, feeling your feelings grow with each passing day. And when he was last at your place at this time and you confessed your feelings to him, he never came back at that time again.

The sound of the doorbell broke the silence and knocked all thoughts out of your head.

No.

It couldn't be him. But who could be coming to see you at this hour?

You threw on your robe and approached the door. You didn't want to look through the peephole. You didn't want to be disappointed if it wasn't him, or, on the contrary, to see him there and be afraid to open the door. You grabbed the handle. The coolness of the metal brought you back to reality. You pressed the button and opened the door.

Jungkook was standing on your doorstep. He was dressed the same as when you saw him today. He slowly raised his head when you opened the door and your eyes met. It was a moment that seemed so familiar, but it was not the same as before. Because now you weren't waiting for him to spend another night with him. You didn't expect to see him again, but he came as before. At the same time.

"What are you doing here?" escaped from your lips. Your voice was neither joyful nor sad. It sounded dry, a little harsh. Jungkook was silent for a moment, then took a step toward you. You instinctively took a step back.

"What you said in the car? Is that really what you want?" He stood over you, staring into your eyes. "You don't want to see me anymore?"

Your palms were sweaty. Your heart, which was already beating wildly in your chest, skipped a beat. He was here. Standing on your doorstep, asking if you really didn't want to see him. Had your words really hurt him?

"Yes," you said firmly, despite your condition. "I don't want to see you anymore." Jungkook didn't answer again, just looked at you as if you hadn't said anything and he was still waiting for your answer. You crossed your arms over your chest and said:

"You think you can disappear without warning. Not answering text messages or phone calls, knowing full well how I feel about you, and then showing up and thinking we'll continue as before?" You tried not to cry, even though the lump in your throat hurt. Jungkook laughed bitterly. He lowered his eyes for a moment, running his hand through his hair. You looked at him, trying to hold back your tears.

"Damn it... I really thought like that,"

You laughed sadly, almost mockingly.

"Then you're a complete asshole," you said, still smiling. Jungkook took half a step toward you, and you didn't back away. You're not sure if it was because you didn't want to or because you couldn't.

"I am an asshole," he agreed. His fingers touched your chin and you swallowed hard, feeling yourself tremble. His touch made you feel a wave of heat inside. He leaned a little closer, leaving a small distance between you. "I saw that clown walk you home. But apparently, he didn't get to fuck you tonight," Jungkook leaned even closer, touching your waist with his hand. "Is that because I already fucked you?"

Your eyes darted between his. You tried to find the right words, but his closeness made you forget how to think and speak.

"Get out" you whispered, closing your eyes because you couldn't bear his gaze. You felt his lips touch your cheek. He kissed you, moving his lips to your ear. You grabbed his hands, trying to push him away, but he stepped on you and in a moment you were pressed against the wall. The front door thundered, and you realize that he has closed it with his foot.

"You can't give yourself to anyone else because you only want me, right?" he whispers in your ear. His teeth bite your earlobe and you let out a trembling breath. "If to be honest, I wanted to rip this clown's arms off when he hugged you. Seeing another man touch you was unbearable for me," Jungkook moved closer to your face, "I never thought I was capable of jealousy,"

Jungkook pressed you closer, his thigh pressing against your pussy, and you felt yourself getting wet.

"Were you watching me? For how long?" you asked. Jungkook lowered his eyes to your lips, and you knew that if you didn't do something now, this morning would end like all the others. You would have sex again, and then he would just leave and come back when he wanted to. And then he would definitely see that you were powerless against him and couldn't fight him off.

"Long enough to see what made me feel this way. You even promised to eagerly await his call... Is your impatience the same when you wait for me when I’m come inside you or a little less?"

Jungkook's hand slipped under your robe and found the edge of your panties. You quickly grabbed his hand to stop him. He didn't move it. He didn't force himself. But he didn't take it away either.

Your eyes met again. Your eyes were burning — not with desire, but with indignation. With pain. With disappointment. And for the first time, he didn't see the usual submission there.

"Don't you dare," you said, referring to his words and his hands reaching for you. He still had his hand on your underwear, but it seemed that for the first time he didn't have easy access to it. "I woke up every damn morning at a quarter past four, hoping you would show up. You made me go through hell. And I want to forget you..." you whispered your last words. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you closed your eyes to calm down. Jungkook put one hand on the wall opposite your face and slipped the one you were holding into your panties, even though you tried to stop him.

When his fingers touched your clitoris, you held your breath, and his lips touched yours. He kissed you, taking complete possession of you. His palm pushed aside the fabric of your lace thong and he skillfully spread the moisture between your folds, kissing you until you were dizzy, making you moan into his mouth.

You felt his cock harden and press against your thigh. Your heart pounded in your temples, your breathing broken into ragged gasps. His fingers spread your wetness so confidently, as if he didn't just know your body — as if it had belonged to him for years.

"Don't do this," you whispered through your breath. But he kissed you with the same obsessive confidence as always. And your fingers, which were supposed to push him away... treacherously dug into his shirt. His lips moved down — along your cheeks, chin, to your neck, leaving burning marks, while his fingers had already penetrated inside you. You squeezed his hand between your legs, trying to curb the sweet pain.

"Oh God..." you moaned as he slowly inserted one finger, then another. There was no haste in his touch — only determination. His breathing became heavier. And you knew — he was on the edge too.

"You lied. You want me. I want you. So why do we have to end this?" Jungkook asked, fingering you. His movements quickened, and you felt that you wanted more than just his fingers. But his words hurt you. He doesn't understand that this is no longer about sex and pleasure. You've fallen in love, and it's serious.

"Because I'll never be to you what you've become to me," you said, barely breathing. "I don't want to fall even more in love with you."

"Don't say that to me," he said harshly, and you opened your eyes. His fingers went deep inside you. Jungkook froze for a moment, then in one motion tore off your robe. It fell to your feet, leaving you in your underwear. Jungkook just as abruptly pulled off your thong, and it got stuck on your hips.

He pulled his fingers out of you and placed them on your clitoris, and began to massage it. You squeezed his shoulders harder, still looking at him in fear. You realized that he was angry, and the painful movements on your clitoris confirmed it. You bit your lip to endure these movements. Jungkook almost touched your lips and said, stimulating you mercilessly.

"Don't tell me you love me anymore!" he said harshly. "I don't need your love! I only need your body..." His words echoed with a dull pain in your chest, and the movements of his fingers on your aroused center were more unpleasant than ever.

"Stop," you whimpered, trying to push him away. Instead of listening to you, he kissed you, greedily, deeply, so that your tongue was completely captured by his, so that your mouth was completely in his power. You put your hand on his to pull it away from your crotch, but he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. You felt his hard cock pressing against your bare pussy.

Jungkook stopped kissing you but did not move away from you. Your heavy breaths, full of passion and incomprehensible feelings, intertwined into one.

"I want you. I want you all the time, and it drives me crazy. I don't believe in this damn love because it doesn't exist," he almost growled into your lips, and each of his words echoed in you like a new painful scar. "As soon as I tell you who I am, your love will disappear. So don't say you love me," he snapped. The lump in your throat hurt again. You didn't understand anything he was saying, and what was most unpleasant was that you really loved him, but he didn't believe it. What's more, it made him angry.

"What nonsense is this?" you asked with a trembling voice. "What does that mean? Why will my love disappear if I find out who you are? Tell me, plea..." you wanted to finish, but he didn't let you. His lips on yours prevented you from doing so. He lowered your hands and found your breasts under your bra. He squeezed your breasts with the same anger, kissing you hard.

You felt him squeeze your breasts under your bra with such force that it almost made you moan, not from pleasure, but from pain. His lips moved against yours, pushing the words back into your throat. And you wanted to scream — not from physical pain, but from how he was breaking you inside again.

He picked you up by your buttocks and went to the bedroom, never stopping kissing you. You found yourself on the bed, and without saying another word, he removed your underwear, which was hanging on your hips. He took off his shirt and climbed onto the bed. He spread your legs, and you knew what he wanted to do.

"Kook... let's talk..." you begged, but he didn't hear you. His tongue pressed against your aroused center and you arched toward him, touching his silky hair with your hands. His tongue carried you to paradise, and his fingers, which cut through your delicate skin, forced you to remain in the reality you were in. Jungkook ran his tongue over your folds, making you tremble with every touch. He made a long, slow movement along your clitoris, making you moan. His tongue entered your pussy, and after a few seconds he returned to your folds.

"Fuck... you're so sweet, baby," he said in front of your pussy, which was completely open to him. He returned to licking you, and his hands found your breasts. He squeezed one of them, pressing his lips against it, sucking on your tender, swollen center.

You felt the orgasm rapidly approaching, and in a moment the knot in your lower abdomen untied and a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your clitoris twitched on Jungkook's tongue, and a cry mixed with a moan escaped your lips.

Jungkook only let you go when you stopped twitching, and your legs fell limply, opening you up completely to him.

You barely lifted your head to see Jungkook getting off the bed. His chin and lips glistened with your juices. He slowly licked his lips as he took off his jeans. His cock was erect, and it was clear from its bulge that he wanted to free himself from the tight clothing that was constricting him.

You were breathing heavily, unable to move. The pleasant sensation after orgasm was still rippling between your legs, and when you saw Jungkook completely naked, your mouth filled with saliva. You wanted to suck him off. But he didn't give you a single chance to do so.

Jungkook climbed onto the bed and crawled towards you. He grabbed your legs and raised it, placing his large, engorged cock at your entrance. You were very wet, and before entering, Jungkook smeared some of your wet with the head of his cock along your folds.

Finally, he pressed against your entrance and entered. To your surprise, it was slow, millimeter by millimeter, and you enjoyed it with almost no pain.

Jungkook took you under the knee, moving your leg away so that you were as open to him as possible. He leaned toward you when he was fully inside you and froze. You looked into his eyes and thought that these eyes were your favorite, but why did they seem so unfamiliar now?

"I love being inside you, baby," he said in a breathless voice. He moved his hips and you moaned softly.

Jungkook slowly withdrew from you almost to the very edge... and then entered you again, deeply, completely, to the last millimeter. His movements were slow, lingering, almost torturously sweet. You felt him stretching you from within, filling you completely, forcing your body to arch toward each new thrust.

His hand slid under your waist, lifting your pelvis slightly — just the way he knew you liked it. He adjusted the angle, and the next thrust made you moan louder. Deeply. Exactly. Right where it was most sensitive. His gaze never left yours — hot, hungry, a little angry.

"Damn, that's good," you said, unable to contain your delight. Jungkook smiled triumphantly without stopping his movements.

You clenched the sheet, feeling your whole body tense as another wave approached. His moans merged with yours as he entered you once again, all the way to the bottom. His fingers found your clitoris again and began to massage it as he moved inside you in a rhythm that erased your thoughts. Your hips rose to meet him, seeking more. His hips slammed against yours with a dull thud that sent shivers down your spine.

Jungkook leaned down and pressed his lips to your neck, leaving hot kisses and small marks, like marks of ownership.

He straightened up on his knees and pulled out of you, but you could still feel that he was inside you. He turned you onto your stomach, lifted your ass, and you braced yourself with your hands on the bed.

Jungkook took his time. He held you in front of him, your hips in his strong arms, admiring the curve of your back, the way your delicate buttocks trembled, raised and submissive. He stroked your buttocks with his thumbs, gently, almost caressingly. But there was strength in that tenderness — the kind that made you melt beneath him.

"You have no idea how much I want you..." he whispered hoarsely and leaned down to run his tongue along your spine — from your waist up. You shuddered at the combination of his hot breath and the slight moisture that remained on your skin. And then... he entered you again from behind — deep, sharp, forcing you to grab the blanket even tighter.

You moaned when you felt his movement — he entered you completely, and from this position the sensations were even more piercing. His hips confidently slammed into yours, and he held you by the waist, guiding, controlling, leading.

"You drive me crazy when you arch your back like that for me..." he said, quickening his pace. His voice was deep, almost animalistic. And you didn't just hear him — you felt him deep inside you. Every movement seemed perfectly precise.

His hand moved lower and found your clitoris again, while the other slid under you to pull you closer. You felt small in his arms, completely filled, and it... was bliss.

"Fuck. You're so perfect for me," he groaned. You felt that pleasant pleasure enveloping you between your legs again. Orgasm approached with every movement of his hips, and then the explosion and unearthly sensations made you moan very loudly. Jungkook felt your walls squeeze his cock and he tried to hold on. He stopped, enjoying how you squeezed him.

You were breathing quickly and deeply, thinking it was all over, but Jungkook was still hard inside you. He pulled out and you fell onto the bed, trying to catch your breath. Jungkook moved to the head of the bed and gently pulled you toward him.

"Sit on me." His eyes were burning. He lay there with his erect cock demanding attention. You sat near on him, exhausted, unable to climb on top of him.

"Kook, I'm tired... maybe me just suck you off," you reached for his cock with your hands, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him.

"I want to cum inside you. So get on top of me," he said and pulled you towards him, and you had no choice but to slowly climb on top of him with trembling legs and cheeks flushed with heat. Jungkook held your hips, helping you sit on him, and when you were fully seated, you both let out a sound of pleasure at the same time.

"Come on, baby. Now... you're in control," he said quietly, stroking your breasts and stomach. His fingers squeezed your nipples, and you began to move — slowly, feeling every moment. The control was in your hands, and you felt it — how you were regaining power over yourself... over him... at least for a moment.

His hands slid down your back, and his mouth left kisses on everything he could reach. Your movements became faster, and your body hotter. And when another wave of orgasm began to roll in, he pulled you close, squeezing your buttocks. He was deep inside you, and every inch of this union made you revel in the sensuality. His moans mingled with your breath as you quickened your pace, pressing your breasts against his chest, dissolving into him.

"Like that... yes..." Jungkook gasped, pressing his lips into your shoulder, running his fingers along your spine. He clutched you closer, frantically, as if with each thrust he wanted to keep you inside him forever.

You felt his hips pull up from below — he could no longer hold back. He began to move with you, and now you were flying — in a rhythm that was yours alone. A whisper of your name escaped his lips, and a few seconds later his whole body tensed, he froze... and you felt a wave of warmth spread through you as he came, deeply, powerfully, with a breath that burned your ear.

He hugged you tightly — very, truly — and pressed you to his chest, as if nothing else existed in the world at that moment. You were both breathing heavily, chest to chest, forehead to forehead.

For a long time, no one said anything. There was only silence — cozy, full, like after a storm.

You finally climbed off him and lay down on the bed, completely exhausted. Jungkook lay down next to you, breathing heavily. You felt his semen flowing out of you and thought about taking the anti-inflammatory pill you had forgotten to take yesterday.

You felt Jungkook move, and then in a moment he was pressed against you. His lips found yours and he kissed you again. So many times, more than ever before when you were together. You felt the pleasure that these lips kissing you now belonged to the person you loved, but there were many unresolved issues between you. And this sex just delayed the inevitable.

Jungkook pulled away, and you immediately got to the point:

"Tell me who you are. Why don't I really know anything about you except that you have one friend, Jimin?"

Jungkook raised his eyebrows when he heard your question. He moved away and then got out of bed. You sat up without covering yourself. Jungkook went over to his things and started getting dressed. You felt a wave of irritation wash over you. Your eyes watched the muscles move on his back. It seems like he wants to run away again without any explanation. You also got out of bed, wrapping yourself in a blanket.

When Jungkook wanted to put on his shirt, you pushed him and turned he to you.

"Tell me who the hell you are! And why should I fall out of love with you when I find out who you are!" You could no longer contain your anger. He still looked at you silently. Your anger excited him, but he didn't want to tell you who he was. That was the reason why he had disappeared for two months.

Jungkook was silent. His eyes slid over your face, as if trying to memorize every feature before doing something... irreversible. He stood in front of you — half-dressed, hot with passion, but there was something cold in his eyes. Determined. Painful.

"If you find out," he finally spoke, quietly but firmly, "you will fear me."

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. Your throat was dry, but you forced yourself to look straight ahead and speak clearly:

"Just say it already," you didn't shout, but your voice was filled with rage born of pain.

He came close to you. You raised your head so as not to take your eyes off his dark eyes.

"I'll tell you, and then we definitely won't be able to see each other. So choose..."

You swallowed hard, exhausted by everything in the world. It was important for you to know what kind of man was standing in front of you. Because if he was really dangerous to you, you had to end it.

"Jungkook. I'm not a child. I have the right to know. And I have the right to decide for myself. Tell me."

He was silent. You could see him struggling with himself, whether to tell you or not. His lips parted and he said:

"I... I'm a mercenary..."

The silence after his confession seemed louder to you than any scream. You felt your stomach tighten.

"Mercenary?" you asked, almost not believing what you had heard. Your voice broke into a whisper. Jungkook just nodded. His jaw was tense, as if he were waiting for a blow. Waiting for you to scream, run away, curse him.

"I worked for those who paid the most. Mostly in security. But also... cleanups, eliminations. Sometimes just passing on information. I'm no hero, baby. And I'm certainly not someone to love. I'm not the kind of guy for a serious relationship," he touched your cheek with his fingers and stroked it gently.

You slowly moved away from him and sat down on the edge of the bed. Your heart was beating hard, each beat echoing in your ears. Everything you knew about him began to crack at the seams. Or rather, it finally fell into place.

"Is that why you disappeared?" you asked quietly.

"Some people wanted to kill me. Because I refused to follow orders. And then... when things calmed down a bit... I couldn't come back for a long time. Because I knew that if I saw you again, I wouldn't be able to leave. And I would drag you into something that couldn't be resolved without bloodshed."

He came closer. He stood right in front of you, crouching down to be at eye level with you. His palms touched your knees.

"Are you a murderer?" you asked, feeling your body tremble.

"Yes," he said firmly. "I am a murderer."

There was a silence that weighed heavily on both of you. You couldn't believe it. Of all the possible secrets — you were ready for betrayal, a double life, even marriage... But not this.

"And you don't regret it?" you asked in a trembling voice. He sighed.

"I regret that you had to find out about it. But I did what I had to do."

"Is the police looking for you?" you asked again.

"No. Because some people in the police... are on my side."

You closed your eyes. Every word was like a nail. You were silent for a long time. Your breathing finally evened out. Now you saw him differently. Not just as a lover. Not just as a missing man. But as someone... from a completely different world. Cruel. Dangerous. And now the scratches you had treated him for made sense. His late arrivals made sense. His disappearance made sense.

"I couldn't come to you at other times and I can't be with you during the day because you might be in danger. I knew it would be better not to show up at all, but I couldn't help myself. I am constantly drawn to you. But you don't deserve someone like me. At the same time, I can't imagine you with another man. It makes me so angry." Jungkook got up and you followed him with your eyes. He walked away from you and started putting on his shirt. You weighed all your feelings and the facts before you.

"Jungkook," you called him. He turned back to you and saw the verdict in your eyes. It hurt him, but he was ready for it. "I really fell in love with you..."

"Don't say that..." Jungkook interrupted you. It hurt him to hear you say that, and he couldn't accept it because there was no place for love in his life. You fell silent and then started again.

"I'm in love with you, but who you are... I thought you disappeared because you didn't want to see me. But the fact that you kill people is a completely different matter," your voice trembled and your eyes filled with tears. "Do you really have to do this? If you have a chance to leave it..." you said, but Jungkook interrupted you.

"No..." he said sharply. You fell silent. He exhaled heavily. "No, baby. I can't get out of it, I've been in it for too long..."

You bit your lip to keep from crying. Losing Jungkook for the second time that day was the most painful thing you had ever felt. Even that other time didn't hurt this much. Back then, there was hope, small and meager, but it was there that he could be brought back. But now... now you know that he is involved in crime. And the fact that he can take someone's life just like that sends a chill down your spine. Your eyes fill with tears. You look at his face — so handsome, so familiar, with the cheekbones you used to kiss, his lips — and you no longer see the gentle, ordinary, daring boy you fell in love with. You realize that now the possibility of being with him has become almost impossible.

You looked at him. There was so much in his eyes: fatigue, pain, struggle, despair... and something else — something so deep that it took your breath away. But alongside this — a shadow. The shadow of who he had become.

"I just..." You swallow your tears, trying to breathe evenly. "I didn't expect this. I was ready for anything. Even if you were married... or had children... or dealt in stolen goods... But that you kill people — I couldn't have imagined that even in my worst nightmare."

Jungkook didn't take his eyes off you. But he didn't come closer. He didn't touch you.

"It's really scary," you said quietly, admitting it. "I look at you, and my heart still aches... with love. But it's really scary... Because I don't know what you're capable of. And who else you might kill..."

He clenched his fists, as if holding back the urge to scream. His face was contorted with pain.

"I would never hurt you," he said softly.

"What about the people around me? Can you promise that? That your world... will never touch mine?"

He didn't answer.

"See?" you whispered. "So we really weren't meant to be together... I'm sorry, I don't know who I need to be to accept that..." Tears rolled down your cheeks. You didn't even wipe them away. They dripped onto the blanket, onto your palms, leaving warm, heavy marks.

Jungkook finally slowly approaches you. He takes a few steps closer, but doesn't touch you.

"You don't have to accept this," he said hoarsely. "I didn't want you to find out. But I... I couldn't help coming. I really missed you. Like an idiot. I shouldn't have come..."

"But you did come," you say quietly with a hysterical, tired smile, "and you would have run away again if I hadn't asked. And that's what hurts the most — that you probably never planned to tell me the truth."

Jungkook bowed his head in acknowledgment. Something flashed in his eyes — shame? Guilt?

"If I stay... will it destroy you?" he asked, hope in his voice. But when he saw the look on your face, he understood the answer.

You took a step back. Not out of fear. But because you couldn't bear his gaze. He was silent. His breathing was uneven, his chest rising heavily. He looked at you, knowing that this was probably the last time — long, as if trying to engrave the smallest details of your face in his memory.

He didn't want to come back to you when he left. But you managed to tie him to you, and it destroyed him. Even though he swore he would never have a girl to friend with benefits. But you're like a damn drug. He wants you constantly, day after day. And when he came back today for the first time in a long time, he had sex with you like a madman. He forgot who he was, what world he lived in. All he wanted was you. You stood in front of him, wrapped in a blanket, so small in front of his shadow. But you already not been his.

Jungkook stood there, silent. He didn't try to convince you. He just stared. Like a doomed man. You stood in front of him, wrapped in a blanket, so small in front of his shadow.

"I'm asking you... Go. Really go. And don't come back... and don't even think about touching anyone around me... If I find out that anyone has disappeared, is scared, is being followed... I'll go to the police. Not the ones who cover for you. The international ones. I'll do everything to stop you. Do you understand?"

Jungkook could barely control himself. His jaw ached from clenching it so tightly.

"Yes, baby. I understand you," he said, smiling through the pain in his chest. "I'll go. And you'll never see me again."

There were tears in your eyes, and you couldn't see properly because of them. His image blurred as he turned and walked away. Without looking back. Without touching you goodbye. He just disappeared. Like a storm that left only destruction and emptiness behind.

Everything was like a fog. You weren't living, you were just existing. You didn't talk to anyone. You texted your friends that you were busy at work, and you lied to your parents in short phone conversations. You ate almost nothing. You didn't leave the house except to go to work.

Donmin, your colleague, was the first to notice. He brought you coffee, tried to talk to you, joked, invited you to lunch. But you... it was as if you didn't exist in the same world as everyone else.

The nights were the worst. You couldn't sleep. You constantly listened to the sounds outside the window, to the silence in the house. You felt like he was watching you. That he was somewhere nearby. And the scariest thing was that you were almost certain of it.

And then you felt sick. You threw up when you were getting ready for work. The first time, you thought you had food poisoning. It wasn't surprising, since you had eaten something spoiled the night before. But when it happened again the next morning... you looked at the calendar.

It showed that you were four days late. With everything that was going on, you hadn't noticed that your period hadn't started.

You were instantly overcome with panic. You hadn't had sex with anyone except Jungkook, and you remembered that you hadn't taken your birth control that day. You felt so bad that you completely forgot to take it.

You rushed to get dressed, grabbed your wallet, and ran to the nearest 24-hour pharmacy because it was early in the morning.

You bought not one but three tests to make sure that if one lied, the other two would show the truth. With trembling hands, you opened the box and followed the instructions. You waited in the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest like crazy.

You sat on the edge of the bathtub. Your gaze was glued to the little window on the test. The first line was the control line. And almost immediately... the second line appeared. You couldn't believe your eyes. Two lines.

You grabbed the other two tests, and although they hadn't fully developed yet, both showed two lines.

You clutched your head in your hands and the world around you collapsed. Thousands of thoughts raced through your mind, each one worse than the last. The phone lying on the nightstand by the sink vibrated. A notification came in, but you didn't pay any attention to it. The time on the phone showed 4:15. And you almost fainted when you realized what you had just found out. You were pregnant. Pregnant by Jungkook.

AUTHOR NOTE:

Hello to my dear ARMY 💜 It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I haven’t written anything new for you in a long time.

So, I want to tell you that I’m feeling better, but life is still kinda shitty, to be honest 😒 The only light for me right now is BTS and you, my dearest ones 🥺💗 Receiving your words of support is incredibly touching and heartwarming 😭🙏🏻

Please forgive me for constantly talking about my condition (I really think I should just shut my mouth 😀), but it’s directly connected to why I so rarely post anything.

I have projects ongoing and I plan to continue them. When exactly? I’m planning to do it in the coming weeks, but besides going to work — which drives me into breakdowns — and going to therapy, I’ve also started studying, which will take some of my time too 🥲😔

But I promise I’m not going anywhere and I’ll keep writing “One Night…” and “No Mercy” (one sweet anon almost hung me upside down demanding a continuation 😅 I PROMISE I’ll write the next part very soon 🙌🏻)

And this story again is about toxic relationships. God, I don’t know why but I’ve been drawn to writing this kind of thing lately!

Should I write some fluff without explicit scenes? (I don’t even know if I can write like that, but maybe I should try 🤭)

I really hope everyone will enjoy it 🙏🏻 If this came off as harsh to you, please forgive me — this is just how I saw the story 🙏🏻 Please don’t write anything too mean, I’m very sensitive right now 🥺

I also want to sincerely apologize to everyone whom I haven’t replied to in DMs or question boxes yet 🥺 My dearest ones, I’ve really closed myself off a lot and I’m so sorry that you worry about me, but I just can’t give a proper response 🥺💗

Please bear with me if you’re willing to — I will reply to every message. (To be honest, the only thing I’m able to do is write a little. That’s the only thing I still have the will to do in this life.

I’ll share a secret with you — it’s unbearable for me to be around people, sometimes even my loved ones. I think I’ve really lost it 😭🤨 (I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this here, but I want to be honest with you.)

So if someone likes my new story, I’ll be happy with any interaction. You know that despite my weird state, I can’t stop loving you all 🥹😭💜

I really love you so much and I miss the way you interact with me 🥹 Don’t focus too much on my state — better tell me if this story was worthy of your attention, if you’ve read this far 😊🥹

[solxamber]

Want You Back with: Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

Where they're still in love with you

Other parts: Housewardens

Trey Clover

Trey insisted that he was doing just fine after the breakup. He said it with a firm, reasonable tone which made people afraid to challenge him. But there was a sudden spike in sweet production that should've triggered an intervention.

The first sign that something was deeply wrong was the dessert box you received. Deuce was the delivery method–nervous, sweating slightly, and holding it like it might explode.

"Trey asked me to give you this," Deuce said. "He made too much again. I didn't ask questions. Please don't ask me questions."

Inside was your favorite dessert. Made exactly the way you liked it, portioned perfectly, with a note about storage instructions.

The next week it happened again. Deuce looked more tired this time.

"I don't even think he's making any for us anymore," he said. "There were twelve of these and they all had your name on them."

The week after that, he just left the box outside your door and sprinted away.

Meanwhile, Trey had developed a new habit of dropping half-memories into conversations and then staring into the distance. He'd start a sentence with something like, "Remember when we went to—" and then just stop speaking altogether. Sometimes he'd blink slowly. No one ever asked him to continue.

The real problem happened during a meeting, when Riddle asked Trey to pass the sugar.

"Sure thing, babe," Trey said, without thinking.

Silence. Absolute, dead air silence.

Trey apologized immediately, said he'd been distracted, maybe overtired, clearly mixed something up. Riddle stared at him for a full ten seconds before continuing like the moment had been stricken from existence through sheer force of will.

But for the rest of the day, he referred to Trey exclusively as "Mr. Clover."

Even Cater started noticing. During a tea party planning session, Trey was explaining seasonal pastry pairings and said, "They always liked the these in spring—" and then stopped. And just stared into space with a haunted look, eyes unfocused like he was watching a flashback play out on the wall.

Cater, in a rare moment of self-preservation, slowly slid his chair backward and excused himself from the room.

Trey never addressed any of it. The desserts kept coming. The flashbacks kept happening. He went about his day as if this was all very reasonable.

He never asked you to come back and you never said anything either.

But when the next dessert came with a note that read "Let me know if you want to bake something together again," you kept the note.

You'll answer him soon enough.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie took the breakup well. Or at least, that was the impression he worked very hard to give. He laughed a little too loudly at everything, kept his tone light and breezy, and absolutely would not stop making jokes. About anything. Including your name, the concept of heartbreak, and on one occasion, a broom that somehw reminded him of you for reasons he refused to explain.

He also always seemed to know where you were. He could recite your schedule better than most professors, which was concerning considering he never wrote anything down and clearly wasn't trying to remember it for academic purposes.

That was around the time the snacks started appearing.

A variety of edible items were now being left on your windowsill with increasing regularity. One day it was a crumpled bag of crackers. The next, something that looked like it had been stolen from the cafeteria. The quality varied, but the intent was consistent: he was absolutely not going to speak to you, but he was going to feed you like you're a raccoon whose trust he's trying to earn.

Eventually he started doing things "just because." Favors you didn't ask for, tasks you hadn't gotten around to, errands you never mentioned. You'd open your bag and find things you lost last month. Your laundry got done at suspiciously convenient times. When your dorm got mysteriously dusted while you were in class, you caught a faint trace of a very familiar scent and found a magift disc that definitely wasn't yours under the bed.

You stepped outside your dorm one afternoon to find him lying on the ground in the grass, dramatically clutching his ankle and squinting at the sun like it had personally wronged him.

When you asked what happened, he made a vague gesture and said he "might have twisted something," although there was no visible injury and his shoes were off for some reason he refused to explain. He stayed there, groaning softly, waiting for you to help him, and occasionally adjusting his pose whenever you looked away—presumably to appear more pitiful.

When you finally helped him stand, he immediately stopped limping, dusted himself off, and suggested that maybe you could "hang out or whatever, since we're already here."

And how could you say no?

Jade Leech

Jade didn't make a scene. That wasn't his style. After the breakup, he went about his life with the same calm demeanor he always had. There was no change in his expression or his routine but there was a slightly unsettling increase in how often he happened to be standing somewhere near you, doing absolutely nothing.

It wasn't stalking. That would be unrefined. But it also clearly wasn't coincidence. He never approached you directly, he just loitered with purpose, nearby, always pretending to be on his way somewhere else.

The mask only cracked once, when Floyd casually brought you up in conversation and Jade's smile froze so precisely mid-expression it looked like it was carved onto his face. He just stopped blinking for a moment, like he'd mentally stepped out of his own body to scream into a bucket somewhere. Floyd stared at him, then slowly reached across the table and took his drink without asking.

He never brought you up directly. Instead, he asked theoretical questions that weren't quite as subtle as he believed.

"If one were to mend a broken relationship," he asked Azul one afternoon while reorganizing in the lounge, "would it be wiser to reintroduce emotional intimacy gradually, or would a surprise approach prove more... efficient?"

Azul didn't respond. He just walked out of the room.

Every time he ended up beside you, always by coincidence, of course, he acted surprised.

Jade didn't sit next to you on purpose. That would imply intent. He simply appeared, occasionally, in the seat beside yours with a faint expression of interest and a stack of papers that had no relevance to the current activity. He never made conversation. He'd just sit there, glancing sideways every so often, not enough to be obvious but enough to be very clear that he was waiting for something.

Eventually, during one of these "well-timed encounters," you shifted slightly toward him.

He didn't say anything and he didn't look at you. But his posture straightened, and he put the papers away.

They had been blank the entire time.

Jamil Viper

Jamil tried to maintain the illusion that everything was fine but it was convincing nobody. It was the kind of performance that might have fooled a distant acquaintance or a houseplant, but not anyone who had seen him operate at full power.

He still showed up where he was supposed to be, still got things done, but he looked like he hadn't been sleeping, hadn't been resting, and had possibly stopped eating.

The worst part was the silence. He didn't correct anyone, didn't complain, didn't throw out any of his usual quietly exasperated commentary. The version of Jamil who rolled his eyes at other people's nonsense had vanished. In his place was a pale imitation who sat in the corner during group work and didn't even make a face when someone proposed an obviously bad plan.

People stopped bothering him with small talk. It was like he had been quietly reclassified as an emotional hazard zone—calm on the surface, but likely to combust without warning. Even Kalim gave him space, which was saying something.

Eventually, something gave out. He cornered you after class and he looked like he had rehearsed being casual and then immediately forgot how to be human. He asked, very quietly, why you were still being nice to him if you were done.

His voice cracked on the last word in the most inconvenient, humiliating way possible. You didn't even have a chance to respond. He just blinked like he wanted to walk into a wall and left before he could hear whatever answer might make it worse.

You caught him pacing behind the library one day, clearly in the middle of talking to himself.

"Just say you want them back. Just say it. Just—"

He noticed you and immediately fell into silence. He tood perfectly still like he thought if he didn't move, you might forget he existed. The silence stretched for so long it started to feel like you were intruding on a wildlife documentary.

And when you stepped closer and reached for his hand, he didn't pull away. If anything, he looked offended it had taken you this long.

Rook Hunt

Rook didn't take the breakup well, but in typical fashion, he made it everyone else's problem long before it became obvious to you.

Every animal in the woods now had an opinion about your relationship with Rook. Squirrels paused on branches when you walked by. Birds gave you judgmental side-eye. There were rabbits that watched you like they knew something.

Rook took the breakup in stride, if your definition of "stride" included extended lurking behind trees and several suspiciously well-tended patches of flora outside your dorm.

He didn't approach you or speak to you but somehow, your favorite flowers were always in bloom, even out of season, even when they shouldn't have survived.

When this failed to produce results, Rook made a tactical shift that alarmed everyone more than the silent stalking ever did. He became "normal."

It had people watching him out of the corners of their eyes, waiting for him to snap. He spoke plainly. He answered questions without dramatic pauses or poetic tangents. He didn't climb anything. He didn't even add French into his sentences.

It was so unnatural that Epel asked him, in all seriousness, if he had been replaced with a government clone. Vil asked if he'd taken a blow to the head. Trey nearly dropped a tray when Rook said "thank you" without calling him "chevalier."

And through it all, he stayed out of your way.

If you went to the greenhouse, he was suddenly busy elsewhere. If you entered the courtyard, he exited as though he'd simply remembered an urgent appointment on the other side of campus. It was like he was trying to give you something you hadn't asked for: peace or space.

Then one afternoon, you saw him outside your dorm, kneeling beside the flowers with a small trowel while performing an act of unspoken devotion.

You didn't say anything and just knelt beside him in the dirt.

And when he shifted slightly closer, you stayed exactly where you were.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia claimed to be doing fine. He laughed about it and told everyone he was at peace. He tossed out a few remarks about how heartbreak was good for the bones, and then promptly vanished for three days.

When he returned, he looked like he'd been emotionally dry-cleaned and hung out to air. The sparkle was gone from his eyes. His posture was slightly hunched, like he'd lost a duel with gravity.

No one mentioned it. He brought it up before they could.

"Refreshing trip," he said, standing perfectly still in the doorway. "Cleared my head. Found myself. Spoke to a bird."

From that moment on, the descent was slow and profoundly unserious.

He started texting you again, always in the middle of the night, always with images no one could trace to a known source. Memes of screaming frogs, unidentifiable creatures holding signs that said things like "miss u" and blurry screenshots from ancient anime with captions he had clearly written himself.

The culinary sabotage began shortly after. Each dish felt like a personal challenge to every culinary rule known to man. There was something that resembled soup but smelled like pickled beans.

One meal arrived in a jar, bubbling slightly. Silver tapped it with a spoon and backed away slowly. Sebek refused to eat altogether and Malleus did not comment—but the haunted look in his eyes said enough. If he ever got down on one knee, it would be to beg you to fix this.

Lilia, of course, pretended to remain blissfully unbothered. He'd hum quietly to himself while pouring powdered sugar into things that weren't desserts and casually mention how lovely it would be to "have someone to experim—I mean, cook for—again."

One evening, as you were winding down, you heard a strange tapping at your window. It wasn't the usual rhythm of branches or wind so you pulled the curtain aside.

And there he was.

Lilia, suspended upside down from your roof. He was perfectly still while grinnimg. Hanging there as if this was the most natural way to say hello. You screamed. He screamed back. It was as though he'd forgotten that normal people didn't expect unsolicited nocturnal bat-visits from their ex.

The silence afterward stretched far too long. He remained dangling. You stood frozen. It became a standoff of mutual embarrassment and stubbornness.

And then, with a sigh, you opened the window.

Not because it was a good idea or because you'd forgiven him. Not even because he'd apologized.

Because, in some twisted way, you had missed him too (and honestly, it was starting to rain.)

Masterlist

[cumironi]

we were just one breath too late. . .

feat. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, shiu, higuruma

sum. what’s the worst thing someone could say to you before you die? “i don’t want to see you again. . .” is that worse enough? will they feel guilty? sorry? or relief? maybe your boyfriend can answer that. . . maybe not.

wn. non-sorcerer au, angst no comfort, themes of death, fatal accidents, emotional and verbal arguments, intense grief, survivor’s guilt, and heavy angst. it includes depictions of emotional trauma, blood, physical injury, and reunion in the afterlife. there are also mentions of alcohol use, self-blame, and spiritual imagery. reader discretion is advised.

GOJO SATORU

it started like every other argument.

small.

stupid.

avoidable.

but tonight, something inside both of you snapped.

you stood under a streetlight, the flickering bulb overhead casting harsh shadows on gojo’s sharp features. the city buzzed around you — car horns, footsteps, laughter in the distance — but between you two, it was silent. thick. suffocating.

“you forgot again,” you said quietly, arms folded across your chest. “my presentation. i told you about it three times. you promised you'd come.” gojo tilted his head back with a heavy sigh. he looked tired. not just physically — but in the bones, in the heart. “i got caught up at work,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes. “it was one meeting after another—”

“you always get caught up!” your voice cracked. “it’s always ‘meetings’ or ‘clients’ or some emergency that somehow always matters more than me.”

he flinched. “that’s not fair.”

“no, what’s not fair is being in love with someone who’s never here!” you shouted, tears brimming at your lashes. “i come home to an empty apartment. i fall asleep alone. i eat dinner alone. i show up to events alone. i’m starting to forget what it feels like to be in a relationship, satoru.”

he looked at you like you had physically struck him. his mouth opened, then closed. then he laughed — not out of amusement, but disbelief. “you think i don’t feel like shit about it?” he said bitterly. “you think i like missing everything? i’m doing this for us, dammit! so we have a future—”

“a future doesn’t matter if there’s nothing left of us to share it with!” you screamed.

silence.

your chest heaved as your words hung in the air between you like shattered glass. “god,” gojo muttered, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t even know who i’m talking to anymore.”

you took a step back. “what the hell does that mean?”

he looked at you with eyes that had stopped shining. “you’re not the same. you’re not the girl i fell in love with.”

you went still.

your mouth parted, breath catching in your throat. “and you’re not the man i thought you were.”

he exhaled, long and low, like he’d been holding it for years. then he turned — really turned — like he was walking out of your life. “maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “maybe it’s better if we just stop pretending.”

then —

“i don’t want to see you again.”

you stood frozen, heart cracking open like a dam, pain gushing out too fast to stop. “don’t say that,” you begged. “satoru, don’t walk away. please—”

but he did.

without looking back.

and you, like an idiot, chased him. just one more step. one more call. one more plea to make him stop.

you never made it past the street.

the screech of tires.

a horn.

then nothing.

just blood. just broken bones. just cold

when gojo got the call, he laughed. he thought it was a sick joke. he even yelled at the nurse for wasting his time. then they said your name again, and it broke something in him. he drove faster than he ever had, broke every law just to get to the hospital. burst through the ER doors. his eyes scanned for you, desperate, deranged, refusing to believe—

“sir,” the nurse said gently, “she didn’t make it.”

his heart stopped.

he stumbled into the room where they kept your body, untouched, still, and when he pulled back the sheet—

he collapsed.

“no,” he whispered, gripping your cold hand. “no, no, no, no, no. this isn’t— this isn’t how it ends. wake up. baby, please—” he shook. sobbed. screamed into your chest like it would bring you back.

but you never breathed again.

six months later

he didn’t touch his apartment. not even your toothbrush. your shoes still sat by the door. your coffee mug still rested on the windowsill. your scent — faint but present — still haunted the sheets. he refused to let anyone clean anything.

he quit his job.

what was the point?

he started walking at night. hours and hours, mind blank, waiting for exhaustion to swallow him whole. he talked to you. out loud. sometimes on street corners. sometimes at the cemetery, where your grave sat covered in your favorite flowers. sometimes on the balcony, where you used to watch sunsets.

he stopped laughing.

stopped smiling.

stopped seeing color.

“i didn’t mean it,” he’d whisper to the wind, voice breaking. “i didn’t mean any of it. you were everything. i was just scared.”

he stopped answering friends.

he deleted your number, but memorized it anyway.

he called it sometimes, just to hear your voicemail.

“hey, it’s me,” he’d say to the beep, voice trembling. “i saw that commercial you liked. you would’ve laughed so hard. i— i miss you. i’m sorry. i’ll always be sorry.”

he kept a picture of you in his wallet.

folded, creased, worn from fingers that touched it every night. some days he’d imagine what life would’ve been if he just turned around that night. if he hadn’t said those words. if he had listened. if he had held you. if he had said sorry.

you haunted him.

not the ghost kind.

the kind that lingered in quiet moments.

in the smell of your shampoo.

in the old voice memos.

in the way his heart still reached for you, even now.

he never dated again. never loved again. never even tried. because you were the only person he ever wanted to see. and he’d told you he didn’t want to. and fate, cruel and exact, listened.

GETO SUGURU

the air was heavy with the smell of early rain and city smoke, the kind of evening that felt unfinished — like something was waiting to be said. you stood under the gray sky with your arms crossed tight to your chest, and suguru stood across from you with that tired, worn expression, like he was already bracing for the worst.

“you forgot again,” you murmured, barely louder than the hush of cars passing behind you. he blinked, slow and distant, like he hadn’t quite heard. “forgot what?” you looked away, jaw tight. “my art show. it was today. i waited for you.”

there was a pause — long enough to bruise.

“shit,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, “i thought that was next week.”

you laughed. hollow. sharp. “you always think it’s next week.”

he looked at you then, really looked — and for a moment, he looked ashamed. but the wall went back up too quickly. it always did with him. he was too good at protecting what hurt. “i’ve been swamped with work,” he said, like it explained everything. “you know that.”

you turned to face him fully, eyes glinting beneath the streetlight, damp lashes trembling. “you’re always working, suguru. always somewhere else. i feel like i’m dating your shadow.”

he exhaled hard, ran a hand through his dark hair, gaze falling to the pavement. “i’m doing my best. this job— it’s not easy.”

“neither is loving someone who’s never really here.”

those words hit something. you saw it flicker in his expression — that small crack in the foundation. he looked up slowly, his voice a little sharper now. “so what, you’re blaming me for trying to build something stable? for trying to give us a future?”

“what future?” you asked. “one where i’m always waiting and you’re never coming home?”

“don’t twist it.”

“i’m not twisting anything. i’m lonely, suguru. i miss you even when you’re in the room.”

he went still.

then he laughed — bitter, tired, wrong.

“maybe we’ve outgrown each other,” he said softly. you stared at him, stunned silent. his next words were a whisper, like he hated them as they left his mouth. “maybe we’re better apart.”

you took a step forward, your voice trembling like wind-blown glass. “you don’t mean that.” he met your eyes. and this time, there was no anger. only something worse — resignation.

“i think i do.”

you swallowed hard, breath catching. “say it, then. if you want this to end, say it.”

and so he did.

“i don’t want to see you again.”

your heart cracked like the world had tilted.

and just like that —

he turned his back to you.

and walked away.

and you, still so foolish in love, stepped forward. just one step. just one more call of his name— you never made it across. the screech of tires split the quiet. a scream. a sharp thud. and then only silence.

he didn’t cry right away. not at the hospital. not at the funeral. not even when he kissed your forehead for the last time and felt the coldness seep into his bones. but he cried three days later, standing in the kitchen with two mugs in his hands — one yours. instinct, maybe. or hope. but your lips would never touch that cup again, and he crumbled right there, on the floor, hands shaking.

the grief did not come all at once. it came in waves.

in the quiet.

in the morning light that poured through your empty side of the bed. in the sound of your laugh from a video he couldn’t bring himself to delete.

he lived like a ghost of himself.

quiet. strange. slower.

he started talking to you like you were still around. “morning,” he’d whisper to the air, brushing his fingers over your pillow. “i saw someone today who looked like you.”

“i keep thinking i’ll see you walking home with that lopsided tote bag.”

he kept your lipstick on the windowsill.

your earrings in a dish by the sink.

your jacket still hanging by the door.

people told him he needed to let go. he never listened. he went to work. did his job. smiled when needed. but something in him had been buried with you. he stopped writing music.

stopped painting.

stopped dreaming.

and every year on the day he lost you, he would sit on the sidewalk where it happened. a small bouquet. your name whispered like a prayer. eyes searching the sky, as if you might still be in the clouds, watching.

“i didn’t mean it,” he says to the wind, year after year. “those words. that moment. if i could trade places with you, i would.” his heart, once full of poems and possibility, now only echoes with what-ifs and empty promises.

and true to his word—

he never saw you again.

not in dreams.

not in visions.

not even in passing strangers.

because sometimes, the cruelest part of love is that we don’t get to choose our last words. we only live with the ones we never got to take back.

NANAMI KENTO

you stood outside the station, the rain coming down like broken glass, your bag slung over your shoulder, and your heart barely stitched together. nanami stood in front of you, tall and tired, the collar of his coat soaked at the edges, eyes dim with something he refused to let show.

“you didn’t call,” you said quietly, voice catching in your throat. “you promised you would.”

he looked at you, unblinking. “i was working.”

“you’re always working, kento.”

“i have to.”

“no, you choose to.” you hugged yourself tighter, knuckles pale. “you choose your job. your schedule. your clients. you don’t choose me.” his jaw twitched, and he looked away for a moment. “you know it’s not that simple.”

you took a step closer, rain seeping into your shoes. “then explain it to me. help me understand why loving me always comes second.” he sighed, deep and worn. “i’m not young like you. i don’t get to drop everything for romance. i have responsibilities. deadlines. expectations.”

“and what am i, nanami?” you asked, voice breaking. “a weekend hobby? a luxury you squeeze into your planner when there’s nothing left to do?”

his silence hurt more than any answer.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands trembling. “i waited for you at that little italian place. sat there like an idiot with a candle burning out.” he closed his eyes, rain dripping from his lashes. “i didn’t forget. i couldn’t leave the meeting. it was important.”

“more important than me?”

he didn’t answer.

and god, that was the answer.

“say it, kento. if you’re done, say it. if i’ve become another chore, say it and let me go.” he opened his mouth, hesitated—then, with a voice that cracked the world in two, “i don’t want to see you again.”

you flinched like he’d struck you.

he looked away. “you deserve someone with more time,” he added, quieter now. “someone who doesn’t disappoint you.” you shook your head slowly, eyes stinging. “but i don’t want someone else. i want you. even on your worst days. even when you’re tired. even when you forget.”

he turned his back.

and he walked away.

just like that. no final touch. no glance over the shoulder. and that’s when it happened.

you stepped off the curb too fast, still staring at the place where he used to be.

a shout.

a horn.

a metallic crash.

and the world blinked to white. they say it was instant. no pain. no time to speak. just silence and rain.

nanami got the call the next morning. his hands trembled, the receiver pressed too tightly to his ear. his coffee had gone cold on the table. he didn’t finish getting dressed that day.

at your funeral, he stood like stone. still. quiet. his eyes rimmed red, though no tears fell. he wasn’t the kind of man who cried where people could see. but he broke in the quiet. after that, everything dulled.

he went to work.

he ate his meals.

he paid his bills.

but he never bought another book. never returned to the coffee shop where you used to sit across from him, reading aloud the funny lines. never smiled without guilt biting at the edges. your number stayed in his phone. your toothbrush remained untouched. your side of the bed—cold. he would talk to you sometimes. in the mornings. in the silence. softly, like you might answer.

“you’d scold me for how much takeout i’m eating.”

“you always hated this tie.”

“i should’ve told you to wait. should’ve told you i didn’t mean it.”

his apartment became a museum of you. photos. receipts. your scarf on the coat hook. he couldn’t let go, because letting go meant accepting the truth. that his last words to you were a mistake. that he’d chosen work over love, and the cost was never seeing you smile again. he read the letter you left on the fridge a hundred times. “don’t forget about dinner tonight, love you.”

and he whispered to the quiet, every night before sleep—

“i’ll never forgive myself.”

because he didn’t just lose you. he buried the part of himself that believed love was enough. and true to his words, he never saw you again. not in dreams. not in crowds. not even in memory the way he wanted to.

only in the echo of your name, spoken too late, to the dark.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

the city never really slept, not this side of it anyway.

it was almost midnight when you finally caught up to him — the sharp sound of your boots echoing through the back alley behind the bar, neon lights flickering against the wet pavement. his motorcycle stood parked just beyond the fence, engine still warm, helmet hooked on the handlebar like he hadn’t decided whether to leave or not.

he turned when he heard you, cigarette hanging from his lips, jaw clenched like he’d been waiting for this — or maybe dreading it.

“you said you’d stop disappearing like this,” you said, voice steady despite the storm in your chest. toji exhaled slow, smoke curling upward. “figured you’d be asleep by now.”

“you said you’d be back by dinner.”

“yeah, well. i didn’t wanna argue.”

“so you just don’t come home at all?”

you stepped closer, arms wrapped around yourself like armor. the scent of gasoline and cold air clung to him. his eyes, always sharp, softened for half a second before hardening again.

“you know how i am, baby.”

“no,” you said quietly. “i don’t. because you never let me in. you disappear, you fight, you come back like nothing happened, and i’m supposed to just… smile? play house?” he shifted his weight, grinding the cigarette under his heel. “you knew what you were getting into with me.”

“i thought i did,” you whispered. “but i didn’t know it’d hurt this much.”

toji looked away, jaw ticking. “you deserve better.”

“don’t say that.”

“it’s true.”

“then be better, toji!”

the words echoed into the night, your voice trembling with all the weight you couldn’t carry anymore. “i can’t,” he said, and it was the quietest you’d ever heard him. “i don’t got that in me.”

“you do. you just won’t let yourself have anything good. you think you ruin everything, so you leave before it happens.”

“maybe,” he said, shrugging like it didn’t crack your chest in half. “but if i stay, you’ll hate me anyway.”

“i’ll hate you if you leave,” you said.

“because you keep choosing the easy way out. and i’m always the one left bleeding.” he moved toward the bike then, reaching for the helmet, eyes not meeting yours. “i don’t want to see you again,” he said.

you froze.

“…what?”

“i said i don’t want to see you again,” he repeated, harsher now, like it was the only way he knew how to kill something softly. “it’s better for both of us.” you stood still, eyes stinging. “you don’t mean that.”

“yeah,” he said, slinging a leg over the seat, engine purring to life. “i do.”

he didn’t look back when he pulled away.

he didn’t see you run after him. he didn’t hear your voice break behind him. he just turned the corner, disappearing like smoke.

and that’s when it happened.

your breath hitched as the headlights blinded you — a car, fast, too fast —

tires screeched. a sickening thud. then silence. like the whole city held its breath. your body lay still on the pavement, your phone still clutched in your palm.

he found out an hour later.

sirens. flashing lights. a phone call from a stranger who found your emergency contact. he dropped the helmet. sprinted through red lights. blood on the concrete. your name already fading into past tense. he wasn’t allowed to see you at the hospital. not until you were already gone.

his hands shook. he hadn’t cried in years, but that night, he did — loud and ugly in the hallway, fist through drywall, the taste of iron in his mouth. he’d told you he didn’t want to see you again. and now he never would.

toji never went back to that alley again.

he avoided the bar. he stopped sleeping in the bed you once shared. your picture stayed folded in his wallet, worn at the edges from the way his thumb kept brushing it. he still kept your old hoodie — the one with the faded print on the front and your perfume in the sleeves. on some nights, he wore it to sleep.

he started carrying a helmet for two. never used it. just kept it. sometimes he talked to the empty seat behind him on long rides.

“you’d laugh at me if you saw me now.”

“i should’ve stayed.”

“i didn’t mean it. fuck, i didn’t mean it.”

toji fushiguro, who never begged, now whispered your name like a prayer. but prayers don’t bring people back. not even the ones we love most. and just like his words, he never saw you again. and it ruined him forever.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

you stand just off the gravel path, arms crossed tight around yourself, breath visible in the cold air. the red and gold leaves have long since fallen. the trees are bare now. and so is the truth.

sukuna leans against his black car, cigarette half-lit in his fingers, eyes on the fading sky. the sunset paints him in fire — but none of it reaches his chest. “you lied,” you say softly. no venom. just a hollow ache. a hurt that’s been carved into your ribs like a name on stone.

“i didn’t,” he says flatly.

you blink. once. twice. “you said you’d stay. that we were… building something. something real.” he exhales smoke and looks away. “things change.”

“no,” you shake your head, taking a step forward. “you changed. you started pulling away. you stopped coming home before midnight. you stopped talking to me unless i begged. is that what you wanted? for me to chase you like some pathetic girl hoping for scraps?”

“stop,” he mutters.

“i’m not going to stop,” you snap, voice finally cracking under the pressure of holding it all in. “you say you’re tired of me? well, i’m tired of feeling like a ghost in my own relationship!”

his jaw clenches, the fire in his eyes flickering like the fuse on a bomb.

“i never asked you to stay,” he says.

“you didn’t have to,” you breathe. “i wanted to. i chose to. and you— you took every piece of me and turned it into something disposable.”

silence. just the wind brushing against the trees. and the slow, cold collapse of everything you thought you could survive.

“look,” sukuna finally mutters, pushing off the car, voice low and lethal, “i don’t want to keep doing this. if this is what we’ve become, if this is what you’ve become — someone who wants to scream and cry and throw shit every time something gets hard — then maybe we shouldn’t keep pretending this is love.”

your throat tightens. “so you’re giving up.”

he doesn’t answer.

“say it,” you whisper. “don’t walk away this time, don’t leave without saying it.” he looks at you, then. really looks. and for a second — just a second — you see it. the ruin in his chest. the heartbreak he’ll never name. because if he does, he’ll fall apart.

“…i don’t want to see you again,” he says.

it’s almost gentle.

you step back, your world crumbling under your feet. “if you leave now,” you warn, voice trembling, “this is it. i won’t chase after you. i won’t call.” he lights another cigarette with a flick of his thumb, eyes hollow.

“good.”

then he turns. gets in the car. engine starts.

he doesn’t look back.

not even once.

you stand there long after the sound of tires fades. you wipe your tears before they freeze to your skin. you step forward, legs shaking, heart pounding like it’s screaming not to go—

you never see the other car. bright headlights. no time. a shattering crunch of metal. then quiet.

then nothing.

he finds out in the morning.

he hadn’t slept. he never does when he fights with you. not really. but he hadn’t turned around. not until someone called. not until the world stood still. they told him you died instantly. that there was a ring box in your coat pocket. he hadn’t seen it before.

now he wishes he had.

after you, sukuna doesn’t date. doesn’t smile. doesn’t laugh the way he used to. his apartment is cold. silent. like a museum for a life that never got to finish.

he buys your favorite tea. never drinks it. he leaves your contacts in his phone. never deletes them. on your birthday, he drives to the road where you died. sits on the edge of the cliff with a cigarette and stares down at the curve of the road below. he keeps asking the wind, “why the fuck didn’t i stay?”

he dreams of your voice. he dreams of the way you laughed with your whole body. he dreams of how you’d lean into his chest at night like he was safe. like he was someone worth loving.

and every morning he wakes up, it hits him all over again. he said he didn’t want to see you again. and now he never will. and for someone who never believed in punishment, he lives every day like it’s hell.

SHIU KONG

he’s never one for public scenes. not shiu kong. always measured, always cold with his kindness — like a man who keeps even his warmth under lock and key. but tonight is different.

you’re standing outside a high-rise bar in roppongi. past midnight. your heels ache. your throat’s raw. the city’s pulsing behind you — full of strangers who’ll never know the ache of your name in his mouth.

the rain’s just started, soft and unhurried, like the sky can feel the ending too. “you don’t even look at me anymore,” you say, voice trembling as you hold your coat tighter. “it’s like i don’t even exist unless i’m behind your door or in your bed.”

shiu sighs. slow. practiced. his hands stay in his pockets like he’s afraid of what he’ll do if they don’t. “you know how i work,” he says, eyes flicking to the ground. “you knew from the beginning. this job, this life— it was never going to be simple.”

“i never wanted simple,” you spit, stepping closer. “i just wanted you.”

he doesn’t flinch. just exhales, tired.

“you’re young,” he says quietly. “you still think love means burning the house down just to feel the heat.” your jaw clenches. “and you? you think love is pretending it doesn’t hurt to watch the person you care about beg for scraps?” his silence is louder than traffic.

you laugh bitterly, blinking against the rain. “i loved you, shiu. i loved you. and you— you loved your job. your image. your goddamn quiet.” he looks up finally. and for a moment, something falters in those sharp, tired eyes.

“don’t do this,” he says lowly. “not here.” you shake your head. “why? because people might see you crack? because the big, composed man might fall apart over some girl who loved him too hard?”

he swallows. hard. “you don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“no,” you whisper, voice breaking. “you just don’t understand what you’re losing.” he says nothing. just stands there, like he’s frozen in place, like he knows that if he moves — even slightly — he’ll say something he can’t take back.

but he doesn’t move. he never does.

and maybe that’s the problem. you take a step back, shaking. the ache in your chest doesn’t feel like heartbreak anymore — it feels like finality. “say something,” you plead, voice barely there. “say anything.”

he hesitates.

“…i don’t want to see you again.”

he says it with no venom. no hate. just that quiet, cold steel he always wears. and he turns. just like that. into the streetlight, into the mist, into the part of your life that will never come back. you watch him walk away. you don’t follow. you cross the street blindly, barely seeing the headlights, barely hearing the tires screech—

a sudden flash.

a dull crack.

and then, stillness.

you don’t even feel it when your body hits the pavement.

shiu doesn’t sleep that night.

he pours himself a drink in his high-rise apartment, watching the lights of tokyo bleed into the windows. he thinks about calling. about saying sorry. but he’s not the kind of man who apologizes for being exactly what he warned you he was.

the call comes at 4:16 a.m.

the voice on the line is grim. he doesn’t speak for a long while after they hang up. he just stares at the window, at the half-empty glass in his hand, at the last message you sent hours before — still unread.

“just let me in.”

he keeps reading it.

again.

again.

until his eyes blur.

he doesn’t go to the funeral.

he sends flowers — white lilies, with no name on the card. but he keeps your photo on his desk. he keeps the voice message you once sent when you were drunk and laughing and calling him “your grumpy old man” like it was the sweetest thing in the world.

he never deletes it.

sometimes, when the nights are too quiet, he plays it just to hear you laugh. and every time he closes his eyes, he remembers your voice in the rain. you loved him like it was a promise. he left you like it was a habit. and now the rain never quite feels the same. because he said he didn’t want to see you again.

and he got his wish.

HIGURUMA HIROMI

the argument starts in his office. glass walls. cold lighting. your reflection shaking in every polished surface. you came to bring him lunch. again. like always. you always come. and he always forgets to eat. and that’s how this began — with your love, simple and ordinary, clashing against the weight of his silence.

“you’re not even listening to me,” you say, placing the paper bag down harder than you mean to.

hiromi barely looks up from his desk. “i am.”

“no,” you whisper, “you’re hearing. not listening.”he sighs, finally leaning back in his chair, dark circles under his eyes like bruises. “what do you want me to say?”

you shake your head, stepping away from the desk. “something. anything. do you know how hard it is to be in love with someone who’s always somewhere else? always buried in cases, in guilt, in the past?”

his jaw clenches. “this job isn’t something i can just leave at the door.”

“and i’m not someone you should treat like a ghost,” you snap, eyes glassy. “i’ve been here. showing up. loving you through your silence. and you… you just disappear into it.” he rises slowly, suit perfect, eyes unreadable. “i never asked you to stay.” and the room drops into coldness. so sudden. so final.

“what?” your voice cracks.

“i didn’t ask you to stay,” he repeats, slower this time, quieter. “you chose this. and now you want to make me feel guilty for not being the man you built in your head.”

“no,” you whisper, breathless. “i wanted you. all of you. not a fantasy. not a perfect man. just you. and you can’t even give me that.”

he doesn’t answer. you wait. nothing.

so you laugh, soft and broken, backing away toward the door. “i hope your court never stops needing you, hiromi,” you say bitterly, “because i’m done waiting for a verdict that’s never coming.” you leave before the tears fall. you leave before he can see the way your hands shake. and he lets you. he watches the door shut and tells himself he’s doing the right thing.

he always tells himself that.

the accident happens two hours later. just outside the train station. wrong place. wrong time. someone running a red light. a body thrown too far. a phone crushed in your hand with your last unsent message:

“can we talk?”

when hiromi gets the call, he’s reviewing a case file. he thinks it’s a mistake. thinks it’s a sick joke. he keeps reading the sentence on the paper in front of him five times before realizing he hasn’t understood a word.

he doesn’t cry.

not that day.

not the day after.

he doesn’t attend your funeral either — says it’s to avoid attention. but the truth is simpler: he can’t face what he did. he can’t look at the hole he left in your life and pretend it’s just grief. it’s guilt. and it eats him from the inside.

weeks pass.

he stops shaving. stops replying to his colleagues. stops arguing in court the way he used to.

they say he’s changed. that something cracked in him. he doesn’t correct them. every night, he comes home to silence. he pours two glasses of wine out of habit, but always drinks alone. your toothbrush is still in the bathroom. your jacket still on the hook.

he never moves them.

he reads your old texts like scripture. listens to a voicemail you left one rainy evening, laughing about some café you wanted to take him to. he never got to go. he never said yes.

and every time he sees the empty space beside him in bed, he thinks:

“i said i didn’t ask her to stay.”

but god, he wishes he had. he wishes he had told you — that he loved you. that he was scared. that you made the world bearable.

but he didn’t.

and now, the only verdict left is this; you never saw him again.

just like he said.

[chrollohearttags]

𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎. 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚛

studying has been taking up a lot of your time (and mental energy) as of late. Your boyfriend has just the plan to shut your brain off for the night.

black nurse!reader (fem descriptors), eren is a nursing student (a few years younger than reader also) fingering, neck kissing, choking, facefucking, rough-ish sex, squirting, missionary, slightly aggressive rennie 🫠, daddy is used once, nipple play, calls reader slut, spit play, fingers in mouth, creampie, multiple orgasms

word count: 5.3K

🎙️: some of y’all might remember this AU from Wattpad and I’m officially restarting it bc my muse for the others are shot right now. If you’re not familiar with it, I apologize in advance bc I promise it’s not this smutty and juicy in the slightest ☠️ I’m just in a mood. Also, this is my first fic in almost two months, please be nice or I’ll cry!

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

“You know you play too fucking much, right?”

“Mmmm..nah, I don’t think I’ve played enough. Look at you. All tense and shit.”

if there was one word in the entire English language that you could use to describe your mood at the moment, it’d most certainly be irritable. To the highest degree..and granted, that could have been chocked up to the fact that you hadn’t eaten in hours, you’d been staring at textbooks and computer screens since four in the afternoon and your phone screen read nine thirty..and to really add the proverbial icing atop the cake, this annoying ass man would not leave you alone! Here it was only a week away from your BSN final; two from his N-CLEX exam and here he was bullshitting as per usual. It was how he approached most things in life, his mantra if you will. No need to stress, what’s meant to be will happen.

too bad, you couldn’t take on those sorts of ideologies when so much was at stake! Not when the results of these tests would determine your future as an RN and instructor, and his career as a nurse in general. You’d met Eren Jaeger almost three years ago when he was merely a patient at the office you worked for during your initial internship..earning clinical hours and experience in the field. He was most certainly the liveliest one you’d seen in Dr. Smith’s office and there was never an appointment where you didn’t leave in stitches because he’d made you laugh so hard. However, you pegged him as the rich kid, the son of a doctor with no ambition or common sense...always looking to make a joke out of everything.

so imagine your surprise when you were tasked with not only supervising an entire floor but the local nursing school recruits as well and the first person to come traipsing through those heavy double doors was him! And even more so, in six months time, he’d have you wooed and swept off your feet. That same charm and wit that had you cackling during his appointments were the same ones that made you nearly spit your drink out when you were on a date and eased serious tension among your staff after a rough night on the floor. Just being in his presence brought you immense comfort. However, at the moment…

“Look, Eren. I’m busy, find sum’ else to do, for real.”

you weren’t in the mood for any of it! This exam had been causing you immense stress and it seemed that no matter how hard you studied, retaining information was impossible. Nothing stuck and you were at your wits end..certainly not in the mood for childish antics.

”I’m trying but you don’t want to stop—“

“Maybe because everything isn’t a goddamn joke to me.”

Eren could see the frustration, hence why he had come up behind you, in a half assed attempt to make you scared and somehow wound up groping your chest in the process. Admittedly, he’d never seen you act like this..never even so much as raise your voice at him and here you were, lashing out. Part of him understood your feelings. He knew how important this was and although he wasn’t showing it, he was equally as nervous for his own test. But regardless, nothing was going to change tonight and especially by sitting here irate and snappy. The only thing he wanted to do was shut his brain off and wanted his beloved (y/n) to follow suit..and he was willing to make it happen by any means!

“Eren, what did I just say—“

one thing that he had learned since being together was that once your mind was resigned to something..there was no changing it. So rather than spend time arguing with you, he had another solution!

“..I heard you, I don’t give a fuck about all that right now…’just trying to help..”

“You’re trying to help me by fucking me? Righttt.”

“Yes, I think it’s a very helpful tool for relieving stress. Seen that somewhere in my text book or sum’..”

“Mmm, I think me and you were studying different materials..but sure, why not.”

seconds later, his hand was snaking around your upper body, clutching your throat with the other steadily pulling the chair back and his lips marking your neck with soft kisses. He was adamant in making sure that you got proper rest and a distraction. What better way to do so than to wear you down? Eventually, you’d find those large hands of his snaking around to the front, making home back on your plump breasts..soft, voluptuous and perky as they sat up in your tank top. He could see you visibly enjoying this little tease, indicative by the way your muscles relaxed. He’d continue to massage them until your legs almost instinctively parted.

That’s when, before you even had time to react, he’d spin you around to face him. His grasp still firm around your throat as he moved in for a kiss. Your tongues collided in a steamy clash; smacking against one another as you attempted to catch your breath. But he wasn’t leaving you much room to do so, less known, attest him right now.

“Exactly..now keep those legs spread and don’t move.”

the command was so absolute and matter of fact, it damn near caught you off guard! He’d never spoken to you in such a manner. It was always so playful, jovial and even a bit needy during times like this. But alas, you’d awoken this side of him and you were going to have a hell of a time ‘calming’ him down. Even so, you’d follow his order just this once and part those thick thighs until that plump center, sheathed by the smallest pair of shorts he’d ever seen. Your physique truly was something special…thick in all of the correct areas with stretch marks and a semi-pudgy tummy to match. Your belly ring dangled from the gentle force of him maneuvering you around.

“Eren..I—“

“Whatever you’re about to say, save it…you don’t always have to handle shit alone. I got you..just let me help, okay? I promise, you can trust me..”

he was aware of your past..how mean and cruel previous partners had been so he was very careful in how he approached you. He understood all too well that being overly aggressive would only prove to make you anxious or even shut down entirely. His intention was never to make you uncomfortable. Even so, he wanted to see you give yourself to him fully…trust that he would do right by you and not take advantage of the precious gift that was your love.

he would take great care of you to not only relax but feel pleasure like you’d never experienced it. Although you seemed a bit reluctant, you were ready for whatever he was going to toss your way! Assuring him that you were all his for the taking..

“Fineee…I trust you..”

without a moment of hesitation, he’d detach from your own mouth and move down your neck. Whilst those tits remained exposed, he’d prompt you to give each of those nipples a light squeeze in his place. Meanwhile, his own hands were busy gliding into your underwear, trying to locate that aching bud. That long, tattooed forearm gliding down the center of your torso as a result. It would also serve as a semblance of comfort when he inevitably brought you to ecstasy..

“Mmm..there we go, baby..fuck, you’re so wet already.”

“That’s because you were grabbing on my neck..”

“Oh you like that, huh? I’ll keep it in mind..”

you wouldn’t know it but when you first began dating Eren, he was completely inexperienced. Although he wore his confidence like a lapel pin, he was incredibly timid, shy and nervous when it came to intimacy. The first time you two actually had sex, he lasted all of three minutes before he forced himself to pull out and splatter you with a heavy load. Left a trembling mess, his entire face turned beet red as he just glared at you. He was certain you were going to leave him right then and there; flustered and apologetic, he’d try to make up an excuse as to why he couldn’t satisfy you to your full potential. However, you thought it was adorable! He’d worked up all of his courage to give you a night filled with pleasure and even though it didn’t pan out quite the way he imagined, he had made a complete turnaround since that night and had done good to broaden his sexual horizons. You grew together; learning one another’s ticks and desires, which he knew each of yours to a science. So much so, you practically melted within his grasp and wanted to see just how far he’d take it!

“Open your mouth f’r me, princess…” prompting you as he causally glided those fingers across your tongue. Your gorgeous brown eyes fixated on him in a lustful gaze..by this time, you’d come to completely face him with that tall, lanky frame hovering above. You were all but level with that rising tent within his sweats. Meanwhile, his opposite set of digits were good and preoccupied with your juicy cunt; tightening around the base of the knuckles and then releasing once he’d use the thumb to stroke your swollen clit. Such an awkward position to be in at the moment but it was well worth it for the amount of pleasure both of you were about to receive. Finally retracting the ones in your mouth, Eren would leave you with a trail of drool seeping down your lips and chest in the process. Looking fucked out and starved already without so much as even a single thrust yet..that was the type of desperation and submission he wanted to see from you..

“ ‘ren…lemme suck on that dick..”

although he was trying to maintain control, who was he to deny your very blunt request? After all, he knew if you were dripping now, this would inevitably have you overflowing. Just as the first hand did, he’d slowly withdraw from those tight folds and allow you to clean up the remnants before tugging at that elastic waistband. “oh shit..I knew you’d come around. Here, baby..”

suddenly, you’d feel that same grasp on the back of your head, tugging you forward so that he could align himself with the rim of those pretty lips. The softness brushing against the tip as he rubbed them around…teasing you. “There you go..kiss it—stick your tongue out..that’s it..” from there, (y/n) needed no further instruction. Without the guidance of your own hands, you’d take his entire tip into your mouth and begin to suckle. Suctioning in, enclosing the silkiness of those jaws around his cock. “Fuck..you don’t need me to tell you anything..just make me feel good, princess..like you always do—“

he was well aware of how deviant you truly could become when the need arised. From outside appearances, you always looked so poised and proper..never getting out of character and to some, you’d even come off as ‘boujie’. However, Eren got to see the multitude of your complex layers; dispelling the notion that you were dull or boring. Including this one..the very promiscuous side that would do whatever it took to get hers and make him climax too! When it came to the bedroom, you were adamant and steadfast in what you wanted and he had no issue fulfilling those requests. Eventually, you’d take another couple of inches before establishing a rhythm. It didn’t take long for the very audible sounds of slurping and gagging to emit as a result. You’d gaze up to see Eren’s head resting back on his shoulder blades; groans spilling out in a whiny huff as a result of it all. You could be rather relentless when it came to pleasuring him but he didn’t mind it one single bit, of course!

“Oh my—shit, baby. You take me so good..fucking your own face like that. I love it..”

those words only served as further encouragement and inevitably prompted you to cradle his balls in addition, knowing how sensitive they were. Giving them a light squeeze, you’d continue forcing his shaft between your jaws; the sloppy wet strings of drool pooling down your chest serving as a testament to how much you were enjoying yourself. Where limits should have existed, there were none and it wasn’t long before he’d find himself buried to the hilt of your throat with your forehead scraping his pelvis. With that salacious gaze fixated on him, Eren had to all but restrain himself from forcing a load down your esophagus. But to be fair, this was the outcome he desired so badly and kept pestering you for.

“F—fuck! You’re not playing fair, baby.. ‘gonna make me come if you don’t stop..”

that deep tone with breathy whimpers cried out as he struggled to maintain his composure. However, you weren’t interested in letting up when he so rudely disturbed your study session. He was going to pay for breaking your focus! In a quick slight of hand, you’d shift his member into your palm and his sack in between your lips. Making slow jerking motions until you’d lean back up and coat both with exorbitant amounts of saliva. Seeing how filthy and unabashed you had become for him was causing Eren to lose his mind. Sometimes, he felt as though he couldn’t keep up with you and this was one of those moments. Although this little sexual escapade was his idea, you’d seem to have taken full, unequivocal control of the situation.

“That’s exactly what I want…”

“Then gag yourself on this dick, baby..let that stress out.”

that look in your eyes screaming for him to give you every ounce of his creamy nut…wanting to swallow every drop. Eventually, you’d begin to writhe around against the desk chair, attempting to create friction and stimulation for your clit. Your nipples had once again become extremely hard and the slightest brush was driving you crazy. Eren had heard your response loud and clear, which led him to sandwiching your head between those same fingers that had once curled up inside of you. He’d prompt you to take his cock back into your mouth so that he could work out all of that cum of his own accord.

the pace mirrored that of heavy, rough strokes..ones you’d get to experience soon enough. Gag spit along with loud moans poured out as a result of his brutal pounding but you welcomed the sensation..even increasing it by reaching down and fingering yourself in his place. “..yeah, play with your pussy, baby..” It wasn’t even a full five minutes before you noticed his stride beginning to break and his toned legs trembling. The last couple movements were off kilter and choppy but soon, you’d have your reward in the form of his seed. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, damn—‘coming—“

in that very moment, (y/n) would find yourself held in place by the tight grasp of his palms as he allowed that thick cock to pulsate in the back of your throat. The warm fluid filled your oral cavity until he could muster another drop. The entire time, his loud groaning was permeating the room as well. Once he was able to regain his senses, Eren would slowly withdraw and examine the aftermath. That towering six foot something frame would take a step back to truly take in the beautiful sight in front of him. You were drenched from the neck to your belly button in silky fluids…that wrung out tank top sat idly underneath your breasts and those shorts were halfway around your thighs at this point. To say he’d make an absolute wreck of you would be an understatement.

“Lemme look at you…”

proudly displaying his work of ‘art’, you’d cup those saliva laden tits and squeeze them together with your tongue dangling. By the look on your face, something told him that you were more than happy he’d interrupted you! “Yeah..that’s how you should look. Happy as fuck.” Shoving his thumb between your puckered lips, he’d then bend down to shove his tongue into your mouth for a sloppy peck.

but something also told him that you couldn’t be satisfied with merely sucking him off. You needed—no, you deserved more.

“Are we done? If so, imma be disappointed.”

“Of course not, baby..I got you.”

Regardless of how lightheaded that orgasm had made him, he leaned forward and took you into his grasp. Hoisting you up in one fell swoop to carry you to the bed that was a mere ten feet away. Once he had you flat against the mattress, he’d make haste in disrobing you of those clothes to render you completely naked. He’d follow suit and tug his sweats until they reached his ankles so he could kick them off. Once the two of you were left with only your bare flesh, Eren wasted no time in pinning both your wrists and ankles behind your head. But not before propping your head up with a pillow. A position that led to excitement riddling your face. From this angle, you could watch it go in and out together. With you exactly where he wanted, your boyfriend began the descent down your torso to that plump center. Those fat lips drenched in slick whilst that aching bud protruded between them. He knew you were already overly sensitive so he didn’t want to keep you waiting for much longer but the selfish glutton in him just had to have a taste of that divine nectar.

“Just be patient with me..’need to make sure you’re good and ready first..”

immediately, your eyes would roll to the back of your skull and a nervous giggle arose as well. Make no mistake, he allowed you to have your fun but it was his turn to take control now. Delving headfirst between your thighs, Eren began his quick descent onto that swollen pearl and lapped around it. You’d immediately grasp at the sheets, eyes trailing to the back of your skull as those feet dangled in the air. He’d keep you at bay with a hand clutched around your throat as he continued exploring those folds with his tongue. For a split second, his head would raise to make eye contact with you.

“Fuck..you really needed this, huh? You’re already starting to come..” alluding to the fact that your juices were spurting out as he scooped his tongue inside of your hole and rubbed that sensitive clit. It seemed his skills grew better and better each time you two had sex. He was far more attune to your needs and desires, even more aware of them than you were sometimes.

“Y-yeah!..how’d you learn to do that?” “What can I say? I got a hell of a teacher...” tossing you a wink and a smirk because you truly did turn him out when it came to the bedroom. He’d continue lapping and tracing his tongue intricately throughout your folds until he received the beautiful payout of you squirting all over his face. Try as you might to harbor restraint, it was to no avail and of no use…that tight entrance would spasm before more would spill forth. Just to increase that pleasure, Eren added a finger in hopes of coaxing more out.

“Give me that cum, baby..that’s it. Make a fucking mess for me..” and you certainly didn’t disappoint. The shower of sweet juices continued for another minute or so before you’d lie there, spent and breathless from such an amazing orgasm. Once he’d gotten his fill, your boyfriend would return to the surface for air and to get a good look at your current state. “You taste so good..love making you squirt in my fucking face..” Breaking into a sadistic chuckle, he’d readjust so that his palms were stationed firmly on the backs of your thighs and that he was centered right between them..in that moment, he’d slide his throbbing member across the sensitive core and tease it for a moment. But you couldn’t handle that at the moment.

“Eren, please don’t play..I need you so fucking bad right now..”

nearly in tears from the pending overstimulation and the overwhelming need to be stuffed full of his cock. Your walls would ache and spasm in anticipation; so much so, he’d watch you reach for his hips to guide him in. But naturally, nothing with this man came completely easy…he had to mess with you a bit for all of the resistance earlier. Just as you went to grab him, he’d pin those wrists back in one fell swoop with one hand and use the other to press into your stomach.

“I know you do…that’s why you’re gonna beg me for it.” Immediately being met with a look of shock and a bit of infuriation. Even so, you’d remain there, lying in wait until he got what he wanted.

“I mean, you were being all fussy earlier..I’m not convinced you really deserve it..c'mon, princess…change my mind.” he was so assured of himself and honestly, you were in no position to attest. The desire grew stronger with every passing moment and if he didn’t deliver soon, you were bound to implode. “Fuuuck, Eren! Please—“ “That’s better but not quite..tell me how badly you need me to fuck you.” Besides, when he hovered above you like this, looking so fucking attractive and domineering, you felt no other choice but to submit. So setting your pride aside, (y/n) began to grovel..whimpering and bucking your hips to meet the friction of his shaft rubbing against your wet folds. You’d tell him how good he made you feel and that your body was his for the taking, unequivocally. Finally, that submission and trust he had craved..best believe, he was going to take care not to break it. After your speech, he’d seem content and proceeded to tap the head of that appendage against you before gripping the base and making one full glide across the outside and shoving it inside. Sucking his teeth and moaning as he made place between that flesh.

“Oh fuck…that’s it, gorgeous. Right there..”

you’d release a whimper of your own as you became acclimated to that thick shape. You’d clench around him once before releasing and he knew he couldn’t sit idle for long. With haste, he’d begin slamming his hips forward, quickly trying to establish some semblance of a rhythm so that he didn’t blow his load too quickly. Upon being immersed in that juicy cunt, he’d find his knees buckling from the sensation.

“..pussy’s so fucking tight..and warm..oh God, I love you so much..” his whiny yet deep moans complimented by the sounds of smacking flesh. With your hands now planted firmly on your asscheeks, per his instructions, you’d keep it spread open so that he had ample room to give you both the satisfaction you both desired. Suddenly, his strokes would increase in speed and depth; really stretching you out. Jolting that body around as those perky tits bounced from the force. “Fuck!… babyyyy…” “I know, baby. I know..you just look so pretty when I’m digging you out. I can’t help but fuck you this hard.” Cooing to you as he bent down to plant soft kisses along your forehead. You’d cry out, maneuvering your hands to his back, digging your nails into it..you’d never felt pleasure like this with anyone else. The way he made love to you was incomparable. Even when you fought against it, he knew your body’s needs and wanted more than anything to satisfy them.

“That’s right, princess..let me fuck that stress out of you..let that mind go blank. Just focus on taking this dick.” Whispering in your ear as you held him close.

eventually, your legs would coil around his waist and your eyes would trail to the back of your skull in a haze of sheer ecstasy. You didn’t know what to do with yourself..all except fall apart underneath him. Your body was a bundle of tight nerves, bound together by the building ecstasy and you were bound to explode any minute. Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t done teasing quite yet..instead, he had one more move he just had to try in hopes of sending you over the edge.

“Eyes on me, baby..yeah, I need to see that pretty face right now.”

garnering a smile as he leaned back up and maneuvered his arms to fall into the center of your torso. Suddenly, you’d feel a slight pinch of your nipples before he began to rub them slowly. Tracing tiny circles as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. It was very apparent you couldn’t handle it by the way that cunt twitched around his shaft..you were bound to explode at any moment. Mouthing off about how good it feels as he made alternating motions on those sensitive buds; rolling them between his fingertips, squeezing and even leaning down to suckle them for a brief moment. The sensation lasted for a few minutes before he’d return his attention back to ensuring you got your well deserved orgasm. This time, with a bit more aggression because he recalled how excited you’d gotten when he grasped your throat.

“Oh my God…fuck! ‘m gonna come—“

“Then do it..come f’r me, slut..give me what I want.”

the name sending you into an absolute spiral as he never spoke that way on a regular basis and would never think to disrespect you. But this was exactly what you craved. To be used and made devoid of all feelings except pleasure. Suddenly, you’d feel his fingertips squeezing your jaws as he increased his speed yet again..this time, feeding you the deepest, longest strokes he could muster. The two of you would spout off filthy, steamy remarks at one another through gritted teeth, intense glares and breathy moans as you reached down to aid him by stroking your aching bud.

“ ‘m so fucking close, baby. I don’t think I can hold it..”

“Fuck yes you are..that pussy’s gripping me so tight right now..goddamn.”

Eventually, those thrusts became rather sporadic and Eren was rapidly losing both his composure and stamina. The both of you were so near your peaks that it was only a matter of time before you exploded. You’d try to outlast him but as he maintained that clutch on your jaw, he’d lean down to spit into your mouth, letting that trail drip down onto your tongue as you stuck it out. He knew what was coming and he couldn’t be vexed to continue anticipating it so your boyfriend decided to assist with a little extra lubrication.

“Get yourself off..I’m not fucking waiting..” Without hesitation, (y/n) scooped that saliva out your mouth and onto your fingertips to massage that clit once more. You were rubbing so fast, your head began to grow fuzzy and soon, nothing but an image of static and blackness would fill your vision as you released all over him; voiding yourself of all those warm, sweet sticky juices as they sprayed his abdomen. Right above the incisions from some prior operations..he wore it as a badge of honor quite frankly. That a woman who once took care of him, was now having all of her wants and needs fulfilled. His cock sat idly inside of you until that stream became too powerful and all but pushed him out. That’s when he’d simply grasp the base of his throbbing member and tap against your slit.

“Shit! Oh my gosh..”

“Ahhh..fuck. That’s it..I knew if I got in it deep enough, you’d squirt for me again, baby. That’s my girl..”

“Fuuuck, it feels so good!”

You’d continue spraying until you convulsed uncontrollably. He was still in awe of the mess you’d made but there was still the task of releasing his own. Although he loved the sight of you in such a vulnerable state, he couldn’t let up. Grasping your hips once more, he’d tug you down onto it and continue drilling you with his cock. This time, to relieve himself.

“Hold still, I’m not yet…need to..come inside of you..”

clutching the backs of your thighs, Eren relentlessly shoved that thick cock back inside of you, pumping sporadically until he felt his own legs begin to quiver. It wouldn’t be long before his stride broke so he’d bend down to grant you one last kiss and sweet nothing. Cradling the side of your head into his palms in an intimate manner. With baited, sporadic breath and whiny cries, he’d pour his soul out to you. Becoming almost obiedient and subservient himself.

“I love you! fuck…I love you so much...”

“I love you too..”

“Am I making you feel good? Did I do a good job? Can I come inside of you..please, baby. Can I?”

and without hesitation, you’d nod your head profusely and grant him his wish. But not without sending him spiraling with your last statement.

“Yes, please! Come in this pussy, daddy..I need it.” And from that moment on, Eren fell to pieces. Collapsing his entire body weight onto your own as your legs coiled around his waist, ensuring he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted. His final thrust came in a sharp, forceful thud before he’d begin to pulsate and eventually, release every last drop of remaining semen he had to offer. Emptying his balls inside of you shamelessly. Already spent from his earlier orgasm, he’d let out an ear curdling grunt, allowing you to claw into his back because he knew he’d lost all semblance of control and had probably been a bit rough. However, none of that mattered..you both were utterly satisfied and it was apparent by the puddle of tears streaming down each of your faces. Never had either of you experienced lovemaking so powerful that it reduced you to literal tears.

eventually, he’d finish pumping the remnants into you and soon, find the strength to pull out. Once he was able to gather his own bearings, he’d turn his attention to you.

“Are you okay, princess? I'm gonna go grab you some water and a towel real quick—“

even insisting he’d help you to the bathroom afterwards to avoid an infection and get cleaned up properly. However, he was shocked to find that his words were falling completely on deaf ears! That’s when he’d turn around to see you sound asleep..completely knocked from the events that just transpired. All he could do was laugh to himself not only out of pure pride but the fact that you truly needed this reset. Although he admired and looked up to your hard work ethic, even the most brilliant of brains needed rest. Those test materials, patients and everything else would be there when you awoke..but for now, you could focus on yourself!

taglist: idenwhims @blaxcunicorn @valentineluvu @cocoacunt @charminstasia @star0bsessi0n @mrsackermanfeed @aquabby21

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.�� He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!