#he fails. horribly. multiple times

[bberetd]

something I’d find funny is Mario being able to do all these cool maneuvers and trick shots with his go-karts and electric motorcycles but cannot FOR THE LIFE OF HIM ride a bicycle.

[jeans-marrow]

It should be illegal to do more of like. Two things in a day. And to have unplanned activities.

[aria0fgold]

That interrogation room scene still makes my blood boil so badly like oooooooooo I hate you, I hate you, You're cool (referring to Sae), I hate you, I HATE YOU! I hate these nameless characters bro, like mmmmmmmmmmm I wanna throw hands with em.

[andhumanslovedstories]

There was an interesting situation at work recently. I'm gonna keep it vague for privacy, but basically the husband of a patient threatened to shoot hospital employees after he perceived they were ignoring his wife's situation. Which, looking at the case, people were like, yeah, this patient was in prolonged discomfort and had delayed care over multiple shifts due to factors that weren't malicious but were careless. Basically, the task that would have helped this patient was classic "third thing on your to do list." It had to be done, but it didn't need to be done urgently. The impact of not doing this task likely wouldn't be felt on your shift. The work of doing this task would require the coordination of a couple different people. Very easy to just keep pushing it back, and because it wasn't an emergency (until it was), it just kept being pushed back.

You could do a root-cause analysis of the whole thing (and we have) to really break down what happened, but ultimately the effect was the same as if the neglect had been malicious. I'm sympathetic to the husband, as were a lot of people in this situation, because, yes, hospital staff dropped the ball in a way that meant the patient was in unnecessary pain and discomfort with delay of care for over a day, despite multiple requests from patient and family to address the situation. The husband reacted emotionally to a situation where he'd felt helpless and ignored. Institutional neglect ground away at him until he verbally snapped.

And the way he snapped was to tell staff, "I'm going to come back with a gun and shoot you all for what you've done." Which is about as explicit a threat as you can get. Does he get to keep visiting the hospital after that? How do we be fair to him, to the patient, and to the staff? He probably didn't mean it. Right? But how do you ignore a statement like that? If he does come back and commit a shooting, how will you justify ignoring his threat? But does one sentence said at an emotional breaking point define him? How much more traumatic are we going to make this hospital stay?

A couple years back, I worked on a floor a few hours after a patient had been escorted away for inappropriate behavior--by the way, you can't imagine how inappropriate the behavior has to be for us to do that. I have never seen another case like this. That patient said he was going to come back with a gun and shoot nurses that he identified by name. This didn't come to pass. Whether that was because the patient didn't mean it or changed his mind or was prevented or simply was not mentally coordinated enough to follow through on the plan, I don't know. I do know that shift fucking sucked. I remember the charge nurse telling me that it wasn't our jobs to die for our patients. If there was shooting, she told me to run.

There was another situation recently involving a patient in restraints. I despise restraints. I think the closest legitimate use for them is in ICUs for stopping delirious patients from ripping out their ventilators, and that should still be a last resort. I discontinue restraints whenever I inherit them, and I am very good at fixing problems before restraint seem like the only solution. Having said that, I work in a hospital that uses restraints, and so I am complicit in their use. Recently I walked into a situation involving restraints with zero context for what was happening, just that there was a security situation involving a patient who had been deemed for some reason to lack capacity to make medical decisions. They were on a court hold and a surrogate med override, which means they cannot refuse certain medications. The whole situation was horrible, and I've spent the days since it happened thinking about every way I personally failed that patient and what to do different next time.

At one point, the patient called one of the nurses a bitch, and the nurse said, "hey cmon, that's not nice," and the patient replied, "if you were in hell, would you call the devil a nice name?" And yeah! Fair! It is insane to expect people who are actively being denied their autonomy to be polite to us as we do it.

Then there was another patient on the behavioral health floor who got put in seclusion. It's so frustrating, by the way, that staff put them in seclusion because it would have been extremely easy to avoid escalating the situation to the point that it got to. But the situation did escalate, and by the time the patient was locked in a seclusion room, they were shouting slurs and kicking the walls. Other patients were scared of the patient even when they were calm because the patient talked endlessly about guns, poisons, bombs, etc. When I checked in with the patient in the seclusion room, they called me a cog in a fascist machine just following orders. And I was like, yeah. Fair.

Another patient: one night when I was charge nurse, I replied to a security situation where a patient trapped a staff member in the room and tried to choke her. The staff member escaped unharmed. She told me later that the patient had been verbally aggressive to her all day, but she hadn't told anyone because she knew he was having a bad day, she didn't want to get him in trouble, and she didn't think anything was actually going to happen. She said, "Patients are mean all the time."

And another case: I had a different patient with the ultimate combination of factors for violent agitation--confused, needed a translator, was hard of hearing so the translator was of little use, in pain, feverish, scared, withdrawing from alcohol, hadn't slept in two days, separated from his caregiver who had also just been hospitalized--the whole shebang. He shouted at us that we were human trafficking him and could not be reoriented to where he actually was or that he was sick. I tried all my usual methods of deescalation, which I am typically very good at. I could not get him to calm down. He had a hospital bed where the headboard pulls out so you can use it as a brace during compressions. He ripped that out and threw it at the window, trying to shatter the glass. At that point, with the permission of his medical surrogate and with help from security, I forcibly gave him IV medication for agitation and withdrawal. He slept all night with a sitter at his bedside to monitor him. I pondered when medication passed over the line into chemical restraint, but I stand by the decisions I made that shift.

Last one: I had a different patient who was dying who had a child with a warrant out for arrest. We didn't know for what, and no one investigated further because no one wanted to find out anything that might prevent this person from visiting his dying parent. Obviously, "warrant for arrest" could mean literally anything, although it was significant enough that security was aware of the situation and wanted us aware as well, but I was struck by how proactively the staff protected his visitation rights and extended him grace. Everyone was very aware of how easily the wrong word could start a process that would result in a parent and child losing the chance to say goodbye to each other.

In the case of the husband who threatened a mass shooting, you'd be surprised how many of the staff advocated for him to keep all visitation rights. After all, the patient wanted him there.

Violence--verbal, physical, active, passive, institutional, direct, inadvertent, malicious--pervades the hospital. It begets itself. You provoke people into violence, and then use that violence to justify why you must do actions that further provoke them. And also people are not helpless victims of circumstance, mindlessly reacting to whatever is the most noxious stimuli. But also we aren't not that. You have to interrupt the cycle somewhere. I think grace is one of the most powerful things we can give each other. I also think people own guns. Institutions have enormous overt and covert power that can feel impossible to resist, and they are made up of people with necks you can wring, and those people are the agents of that unstoppable power, and those people don't have unlimited agency and make choices every day about how and when to exercise it. We'll never solve this. You literally have to think about it forever, each and every time, and honor each success and failure by learning something new for the next inevitable moral dilemma that'll be along any minute now and is probably already here.

[togament]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. sakura, ume, kaji, suo, kiryu, togame.

"ever caught yourself fantasizing how they'd be as your lover? ever wanted to smooch them so badly you just wanna-- look no further, sweetie."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: general FLUFF NATION BABIIIEEEE, a bit of language but only if you squint a little, I made it as gender neutral as possible but pls lmk if I made some mistakes!, our men are lovesick and absolutely down bad BAD, quick mention of bumping uglies, kaji the crowdkiller, brainworm infestation things, bibi went to yap town with togame's.

𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

- big on acts of service BUT IS HORRIBLE AT HIDING HOW MUCH HE LIKES DOING STUFF FOR YOU. hear me out. he’d be the one opening doors for you, covering your head with his jacket when it’s raining outside (he’s getting soaked and you nag him about getting sick)…. all that. He’s blushing profusely. When you smile up at him, he immediately smiles back but then he claps a hand over his mouth to hide it. Give him time ok he’ll come around.

- he loves you. of course that’s a given because you’re his lover BUT BUT. he love LOVES you. like a lot. so much that it’s kind of painful, you know what I mean? Like he wants to express it so friggin bad, but he doesn’t know how to. His words escape him, he panics when he makes a move. He’s spent many a night just staring down at you with the most lovestruck eyes while you’re fast asleep. Tears falling from his eyes because he’s so happy you chose HIM of all people. He never thought he’d be worthy of being loved, of being trusted, of being CONSIDERED. You gave all of that to him and more. GOD he loves you.

- is super conflicted about PDA lol sometimes he wants to hold your hand in public, kiss you all over, hug you, but god damn it he’s blushing from head to toe whenever he’s around you. He’s got the cuteness aggression fever but he can’t let it ouuuttttt 🗣️🗣️🗣️

𝐮𝐦𝐞.

- EVERYTHING IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE. Like, if you’re not into physical touch, he’d do something else for you. If you’re not the acts of service type and you wanna do stuff yourself, that’s cool too!!! He can manage!!!! Although he’d want to help you out so bad but…. He’s cheering on you from the sidelines. On that note, he’s your biggest (and loudest) cheerleader! You’d have an achievement and no matter how small or big it is, his friends and neighbors and the random strangers he passes by know about it and how amazing you are. BECAUSE YOU ARE.

- loves it when you help him out in the garden hehehe loves it extra if you know how to take care of the veggies and fruits hehehehe like, you’d be tending to the potted plants and he’s checking for aphids on the other side of the garden. You’re actively pruning the basil the right way so it’d grow bushier, you’re hand pollinating the pumpkins, you even suggested on doing the three sisters method so you’d yield more harvest in the coming months. He may or may not have begged you to marry him once or fifty times every time he’s caught you doing that. (Ofc you’ve said yes once or fifty times lol)

- WORST CUTENESS AGGRESSION FEVER SUFFERER. You cannot convince me otherwise. You’d be doing the most mundane things, walking down the road with him, lounging on the couch with your belly out and body contorted in the most unattractive position, just STANDING THERE….. he’s immediately on you, peppering kisses everywhere his lips can reach, hugging you so close, rubbing his face all over youdbjfjdndnnd CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS UMEMIYA AND UMEMIYA IS CUTENESS AGGRESSION. If he could he’d bite you. He has btw. On multiple occasions. The tiniest, softest chomp though.

- never fails to tell you how much he loves you. On the daily, on the fly, every time he meets your eyes. “I love you” so easily slips from his lips, he expresses it so easily but it never loses its meaning with him. He means it every time he utters those three words. You can feel it too. Just… don’t ask him to elaborate because he’d drop anything he’s doing just to explain to you as to how and why and what and where and—uh oh is he crying?????

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢.

- WOULD MAKE PLAYLISTS FOR YOU. Hear me out again. He’s horrible with words ok? Like he’s thorny. He’d say the meanest things accidentally sometimes without him realizing that. So, he makes playlists for you. He’s made one for himself when he first realized he had a crush on you, btw. Don’t tell him I told you. Notice how he’s had his headphones on his head whenever you first started talking to him? Yeah he was listening to it when he saw you passing by. Best music taste btw. Listens to all genres too like he doesn’t discriminate. Get him started on some hardcore bands though, he’s yapping. Eyebrows furrowed. (He likes rowdy places but doesn’t get rowdy? Canonically too? Yeah the man’s outside the pit pushing the crowdkillers away from you. CATCH HIM IN THE PIT THOUGH OH MY GOD THAT’S A CROWDKILLER RIGHT THERE.) on that note, he loves going to gigs with you. You wanna go check a local band? He’s immediately got ticket stubs for their next gig.

- another acts of service guy. You see those tiktoks of girls grabbing something under the table and the guy holding the corner of the table so she wouldn’t accidentally hit it? Or like when you got full hands and you can’t go to open the door, the guy’s materialized beside you, opening it for you? Yeah that’s him. Real subtle about it though. Don’t bring attention to it pls unless you want him to not look at you for a couple of minutes (he’s blushing pls be patient)

- the type to nag at you when you get hurt. Man oh MAN does he nag. He’s gone through one too many fights already so he knows how to patch himself up real nice. But when YOU get hurt, he’s immediately digging through his first aid kit, cleaning your wound and patching you up while nagging you to be more careful next time, what if he wasn’t around to help, what if this what if that grumble grumble. He’s got his lollipop in his mouth btw. Pull it out for a second and GIVE HIM THE BIGGEST SMOOCH TO SHUT HIM UP PLEASE. Sweetest kisses. Both literally and figuratively 🥹

𝐬𝐮𝐨.

- GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN. Oh my god if you don’t want attention drawn to the both of you, never bring Suo out in public!!!!!!!! He does the most for you so effortlessly, so beautifully, people swoon and get jealous because of it. The type to give you flowers too. Not just on special occasions too. And not just flowers in a bouquet. No. The flowers are already arranged in a vase so you wouldn’t have to worry about grabbing a vase yourself. Goodness your normal dates would seem so extravagant when he’s around. You’d be eating at a McDonald’s and you’re looking over at your lover and he looks so dashing and he smells so good and he’s got the softest smile anfjdjjdj UGHHHHHH!!!!!! But if you’re not into flowers, he’d find some other way to express his love for you in a different way. Whatever you’re comfortable with, he’s down for.

- big tease. He likes seeing you squirm and pout when he’s playing a little prank on you. You swear you can see a slight blush on his cheeks when you pout but it’s so so subtle you think it’s the lighting.

- is not afraid to express how much he absolutely LOVES you. If you need reassurance, he’s pulling you to the side to talk about it. If you need him to kiss you more, oh he’s doing THAT AND MORE. If you’re the jealous type, even better. He’s smooching you in front of the person you think is flirting with him. But if you’re not into that intense stuff, he’s pulling you into the conversation, keeping a hand on your waist and looking over to you for an extra opinion. Lays on the “dove”, “my love”, “my sweet”, “my heart”, T H I C K . And I fucking mean THICK.

𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐮.

- *dreamy sigh* a fucking dreamboat is what he is. You could never, EVER go wrong with kiryu, man. I swear. A gentleman through and through. Takes you on spontaneous dates, likes going to arcades with you and winning you the biggest plushie!!!! (he’s really good at it), would take you on perfume dates (HE SMELLS GOOD CANONICALLY UGH), would even do your make up for you. Ugh. UGH. He’d be the best partner you could ever ask for. Y’know those perfect couples on tiktok? That’s you and him. But it’s all genuine, baby. That’s just how he loves.

- big on matching outfits. But not the blatant matching ones, no. Like, same color palettes, same textures, YES. YES. The outfit brainstorming is part of your dates too. He’d let you borrow his clothes if you want, he’d even let you spritz some of his most expensive perfumes 😭!!!!

- SKINCARE DATES TOO. WOAH WOAH WOAH. like, he has a AM/PM routine but he'd love to do it with you! he'd suggest all the best stuff for your skin, check if your skin's more on the dry side, oily side, yes. your man knows his shit and it SHOWS. your skin's practically glowing when you're with him. boyfriend air doesn't exist.

- IF YOU NEED REASSURANCE AND A HYPEMAN HE IS YOUR FUCKING GUY I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. God he’d see you looking at yourself in the mirror, fussing over how you look and practically putting yourself down, his heart would break. Like, how could you not see how he sees you? He’s taking you in his arms and telling you everything he absolutely adores about you, how beautiful you are, showering you with praise on the sweetest most kiryu way possible. He’s peppering kisses along your tear streaked cheeks until you’re smiling again. “There’s that smile,” he says as he pulls away, cupping your face in his hands. Ugh he even has the most lovesick puppydog eyes for you. “I love you, alright? So much,” he kisses your forehead, “So, So much.” He whispers into your hairline. GOOOOODDDDDDD 🫂 and did I say HYPEMAN? I mean it. Do a little spin for him in your new clothes and he’s screaming and yelling and taking so much pictures of you!!!!! His instagram feed’s full of you, your couple photos, your dates… practically a fan account of your relationship. He loves you and he loves loving you!!!!!!!!! and if you're the jealous type, he'd be so patient with you. he'd reassure you to the moon and back!!! ofc since he's popular with girls, he'd do his best to reassure you that he only has his eyes on you and you alone.

- gaming nights with kiryu. Oh Gaming Nights With Kiryu please save me gaming nights with kiryu. He’s got a whole set up ready for the both of you, his PS5 hot and ready, snacks opened. It’s a special thing for the both of you too! He decorates his apartment in the theme of the game you’re both playing, horror game? His apartment looks like a horror house. Smash bros? BET. (He’ll be smashing you by the end of the night gehrhhrhehehehHgdhdhs). I know he’s got LED strips so he’s using that to his advantage too. Ok I’m getting carried away. Kiryu best partner best lover best everything.

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

- *RIPS SHIRT OPEN LIKE A WEREWOLF GRGEGGRHEHE BARKING!!!!!* TOGAMEEEEE!!!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ I am apologizing for this part, love. I’m gonna go hard.

- canonically doesn’t text. Only leaves you on read. Calling him though? CALLING HIM?? 🫠 he’s answering as soon as it rings. None of that “wait until the third ring” baloney. His baby’s calling. If he’s doing something before you called, HE’S DROPPING IT FOR YOU. And he answers in that deep voice of his and 🫠🫠🫠 sigh. You guys stay on the phone for hours. He’s the type to do things while he’s calling you too. If you’re away and he can’t be with you, he’d love it if you could stay on the phone with him for way longer too. Big on facetiming too. He’s fallen asleep with facetime on. You have a collection of screenshots of his pretty sleeping face. You’ve fallen asleep on facetime too. He doesn’t have as much screenshots though and he haaaates himself for it because he spends so much time just staring at you through his phone, smiling to himself like. FUCK he’s so in love with you!!!!! YOU!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ plus he’s got nervous shaky hands so hehe first time you guys facetimed you weren’t a couple yet. You fell asleep and he tried taking a screenshot and dropped his phone. The sound woke you up lol you give him shit about that moment sometimes, teasing him. He’s a blushing mess, elbowing you gently so you’d stop.

- AWKWARD TOGAME WHEN YOU GUYS FIRST DATED UGH SHIIIITTTTT!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ he’s canonically bad with groups of people and people in general. Choji had to adopt him forcefully into shishitoren ok? So that translates so SO well to you and your relationship with him. He may or may not have (allegedly, for legal reasons) asked for romance advice from Choji. He may or may not have (again, allegedly) tried that yawning and stretching trick so he could rest his arm behind you. No. Nope. Didn’t hear it from me.

- awkward and SHY togame when he made the first move on you!!!!!!! He had a ramune bottle in his hand because it was shaking so bad he couldn’t control it. You GAVE HIM HIS FIRST KISS DHHRHDHRRRRAAAAGHHH 🗣️🗣️🐺 you had to hold his other hand to stop it from trembling. Yours were too tbh hehe made him feel a bit better because you were just as nervous as he is.

- once you both are super into the relationship though, my goodness expect togame to be THE BEST PARTNER. See how he was with Choji? Did anything and everything to keep his smile? He’d do that for you too. Amp it up to a 100. His surprises are simple, never was one for grand gestures. But goodness you can feel the effort. Even employed some help from his old man pals at the community baths 🫠

- speaking of the old men, THEY WERE THE FIRST PEOPLE TO KNOW ABOUT HIS CRUSH ON YOU!!!!! Like, they were doting on togame when he expressed he’s never felt this way for someone before, how he can feel his heart racing and his face heating up when you’re around. They knew he was in love with you before he knew for himself.

- OF COURSE THEY KNEW YOUUU. So when you wanted to get into a relationship with togame, knowing it’s serious now, you went out of your way to meet up with the group of old men!!!! There, you discovered that togame has been talking about you nonstop. They already loved you for him before you formally met!!!!! They gave you their collective blessing, of course. You both are their grandchildren in their eyes.

- togame CAN COOK. EXPECT HIM TO COOK FOR YOU CONSTANTLY. And if you can cook, EVEN BETTER. Cooking dates, farmer’s market dates, izakaya dates, GASTRONOMY! You often surprise each other with decorated lunch boxes.

- nap dates all the time. Like, when you’re not bumping uglies or cooking or bonding with your friends, you both are asleep in each other’s arms. He gives the best hugs too. Like, those hugs that just cover you, you know?

- obviously, he loves you. But god damn it he wants to scream it into the world!!!! With the way he treats you though, constantly worrying about you, being there at your beck and call, pressing kisses into the crown of your head whenever you’re next to each other, he doesn’t need to scream it or utter a single word. You can just see the love he has for you. Everyone knows it.

- has thought about marrying you a couple times already. The type to call you his spouse teasingly too just to see you blush. He cannot wait to call you that officially. If he were good at technology, he would definitely have a pinterest board ready lol

a/n: wehehehehajsdkj hehehe togame. i missed writing for him, guys. THANK YOU FOR READING THROUGH TO THE END. some of the togame headcanons were from my convo with @yisxn!!! the ramune bottle detail was so perfect I couldn't skip it! also the asking for advice from the old men. YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL MIND ILYSM. thank you to @brainrot-of-a-thot for helping me clear up my brainfog last nightttt. also to you, reader, ILY. thank you for reading my word vomit!!!!!!!!!

[thethirdtriplet]

Headcanon for the Bats:

The Bats are absolute menaces to society, in their own weird and unique ways.

—————

Dick refuses to be referred to as anything but “Dick” when in public with his family or even his friends, so no, he will not be referred to by his legal name or any of his common nicknames, but any and all variations or nicknames for “Dick” (Dickie, Dikehead, ect…) are acceptable:

It almost makes Dick a little too happy when any of his siblings yells “Dick” in a crowded room or public place.

One woman actually yelled at Dick and his siblings for their language, that is, until he informed her that Dick is his name. She was so embarrassed she turned a deep shade of red and she apologised.

Dick tried to hide his smirk because he's an absolutely horrible person. His siblings are not impressed, and refuse to admit that it’s kinda funny.

—————

On Father’s Day, Bruce receives a multitude of gifts from his children (whether legal, emotional or biological), as a joke he has to receive at least one gift that has “worst parent ever” on it, from one of them. And while he loves all of the gifts (gag gifts or sentimental) equally, he still has his favourites:

Bruce might enjoy the utter horror and unease a little more than necessary as he uses the thermos Jason bought him for Father’s Day with the words “worst dad ever”, printed on the front, in bright red for all to see.

He is currently forced to endure attending yet another board meeting when one -brave but stupid- new board member made a rather rude comment about how Bruce’s kids shouldn’t disrespect him with such gifts. Which prompts Bruce to go on a tirade about how he should mind his own business, and never speak about any of his kids like that. It got so bad, and he was so furious, that none of the other board members mentioned that the meeting would be ending soon. By the end of Bruce’s speech, their time was up and the meeting had to end.

Not that Bruce was finished. The next day, to work, bruce wore the bright blue tie Dick had gotten him, holding the mug Tim got him that had “Not the best parent, but I am trying my best.” printed on it. And he has continued to wear the things his kids buy him to work, without fail.

No one mentions anything about his clothing choices or the mugs (yes, mugs because there’re multiple mugs with equally concerning words printed on all of them), because if they do, he will go on a tirade about his kids and how much he loves them, and no work will get done.

[dollwonz]

𐙚⋆°｡⋆ 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖽! 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 — 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗋𝗈𝗍! 𐙚⋆°｡⋆

a/n — emowonz new comeback ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝!

thinking about.. nerd!jungwon helping you study for your upcoming final. you've been failing all of your test, quizzes, even project! if you didnt pass this final you could even get kicked out uni! but lucky for your intelligent boyfriend wonnie can help! the two of you sat at your pink desk in your room sharing a chair because you only had on leaving you sitting pretty on wons lap.

thinking about.. how distracted you get when you see wonnies hands as he writes, the grab he has on the pen — you wished his hand was around your throat. snapping back to reality once you hear your boyfriend rasp, "princess, are you focusing? im trying to help you" he speaks in such a gentle tone making your entire body shutter. "but wonnie I need you" you feel yourself grow needy causing you to roll your hips onto the boys hard on. Jungwon gasped immediately grabbing your hips still. the black frames resting on his nose even more intelligent than he is. "listen baby you need to focus, you know I dont reward bad behavior mhm?~" he teased in your ear as his fingers danced with the hem of your pink laced shorts, making you sigh as you felt a puddle form in your panties.

thinking about.. how jungwon slaps your clit anytime you get a question wrong! he could be so mean to you sometimes (｡>﹏<) you were spread out on the bed as jungwon eyes burned through your body like lasers. he's been toying with your clit for a good 15 minutes now which felt like forever! "cmon princess you got this one more time, "what two elements are alike in reactivity?" he questions you rubbing your slimy cunt to sooth the sting, lapping your juices all over his fingers. "Ba and mg!" you shouted feeling your high about to collapsed onto you. "thats my smart girl, go ahead baby, cum — come all over my fucking fingers please" he rasped speeding his pace amongst your clit causing you to jerk upwards onto his fingers. your sweet cream dripping down his fingers placing his two digits into your mouth "suck" he spat and you did as you were told, he loves the control he has over you.

thinking about.. you finally passed the final! you may have only got a 70% but hey its not horrible! calling jungwon that your ready to go home and your so excited to break the good news to him. you run toward the taller blond man who's wearing a black compression shirt which you love on him, along with grey sweats with a black yankees hat. not even caring that your pink skirt was rising causing your pink thong to show as you jumped on him, jungwon immediately noticed making him place his hand over your heat to hide it from the public, but you were used to things like that. "baby baby baby!, look I passed all from your help!" you cheered as your boyfriend looked down at you like you were an angel on earth. "my pretty genius" won praised you pecking your forehead multiple times making heat rise to your cheeks. "looks like you need a reward mhm?" he whispered in your ear making you nod with a shy smile. leading the two of you in the back of his car in no time rewarding you with the gift of creaming on his dick soooo many times ㅤ♡!

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining the 141 looking for a medic because all of the ones they sign on keep dying or getting poached by other task forces. And you're a baby medic who is shadowing your higher rank and well esteemed teacher (who is actually the one on the 141's radar). But something goes horribly wrong...

You've done everything you possibly can but he's still drowning in his own blood.

He's tried walking you through everything through wheezing, wet breaths. He has a knowing look in his eye, this isn't working and it won't work. You're in the EVAC helicopter, but the time it'll take to get you back to base is too long.

"I-I'm sorry." You whimper, tears forming on your lashes. "I'm not a very good student."

Your mentor smiles sadly, his eyes glassy. He was always sweet to you when he was no nonsense with everyone else.

"You're doing great, kid." He huffs, blood leaking out the corner of his mouth. He winces and sputters up more but you're there. You try to fill up his vision and give him something to focus on. "People crash. Don't give up on 'em till it's over."

You cradle his head, memorize every wrinkle, scar, and patch on his kit. And then, it hits you.

He's right, its not over yet.

You rip through your medical supplies with shaking hands. It feels like it takes forever but it's merely seconds before you're sticking a needle from your vein into his. You watch the bag as it quickly fills with your blood before entering into him.

Your mentor chuckles and shakes his head weakly. This is nowhere near anything he taught you. But he knows it might just save his life since you're both the same blood type.

You go through multiple more needles releasing pressure on his lungs until he's even more stable than before. He finally has a shot and that's all that matters.

You're so close. Fifteen minutes out when he starts to crash again. You've exhausted everything. Your medical supplies are dwindling. You have no more blood to give. Your teacher just continues to smile at you. And he keeps smiling at you and he keeps smiling at you. You rub at his face, his eyes are far away. You feel for his pulse.

You scream.

It's not one of fear, but a deep, mournful cry. You turned your comms off forever ago but you know everyone could hear you, even through the wind. It carries your scream off and away as the heli's motors clip around you. You feel empty. He was supposed to teach you more. He was supposed to live.

You scream again and throw yourself over him. You sob and scream and grab at him, trying desperately to look for vitals. You know you won't find one but you're delirious. He's supposed to live! You did everything right!

Tears blur your vision but you notice someone out of the corner of your eye. It's one of the members of a different task force assigned to help your squad with this now terribly failed mission. He's their Captain, you think. He tries to reach down but you hiss at him. You don't care about rank. You don't care about the social ramifications. You scream to be heard over the wind.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

The man's eyes soften. You don't imagine what you look like. You probably look wild, feral, gnashing your teeth and growling. You don't care. He's YOUR teacher, he's YOUR responsibility. Quite frankly, you don't trust any of the other strangers watching you. You hiss at them too. Then you cry again.

You bury your face into your now dead mentor's chest and sob.

- - - - -

The look in your eye is like nothing he's ever seen before in a medic.

Price had watched you exhaust every possible avenue to save your superior's life. When all else failed you gave him your own blood. And when he finally succumbed to his injuries you threw yourself over him, not allowing anyone or anything to get close.

Even when they arrived on base, when your other superiors tired to swoop in, you stood your ground.

"I don't care! Even in death he's MY patient!" You yelled at your own Captain.

And surpisingly, they let you take care of him to the end. They even let you escort his body to the morgue. It's where Price finds you hours later.

You sit in a rusty old folding chair just outside the morgue doors. Your eyes are glazed over, far away, and still brimming with tears. He kneels in front of you to get on your level. He doesn't say anything, just waits for you to finally see him. You blink slowly and look up at him.

"I-I'm sorry..." You apologize. "I d-didn't mean t-"

"It's alright, Love." He hums and offers you a tight smile. "I understand."

He pats your knee in a fatherly way before standing up. His knees pop and he winces. You immediately stand up, your eyes searching him up and down.

"S' alright, I promise. Just a lil' stiff s' all." He soothes. "I need you to come with me."

He notices how your pretty lil' eyes widen. He shakes his head and offers a hand to help you out of the chair.

"You're not n' any trouble, sweetheart. I just want to talk with you."

He looks down at you with a knowing, sweet smile.

Your commitment is exactly what he's looking for.

[yandere-sins]

Do you think Grim would bite any of the yandere boys for getting too close to his henchman? Like WHAT DO YOU MEAN Rook fucking Hunt bypassed the security system AGAIN. Azul's ass WAS NOT hired as a 'safety inspector'. Yes Kalim we did get the party invite. No Ace you cannot sleep in Ramshackle because Riddle kicked you out again. Actually Idia you can stay, we're having issues with the Ethernet cable again.

Anyways it should NOT be this hard to be a lil guy who just wants to chill with the prefect. The kicker? One of the above is your legitimate love interest but Grim could care less.

Gosh, I love to imagine that! Grim is definitely working against everyone who is being troublesome around his dorm and his henchman! Everyone can stay away, and he makes it clear by snapping for their hands and biting their heels, even if they manage to bypass security initially.

The problem is just that he's actually horrible at it when it counts.

For example, Vil who, without fail, brings him a can of tuna every time he shows up at Ramshackle. He places the can pointedly and with an expression that says he wants to forget about the stench of the tuna immediately, and gets a free entry pass from Grim, who is happy to do business with him.

Grim totally lets Ortho simply come and go. He's just a nice kid, what's the harm?

Leona, who battles Grim in a silent stare-off every time he comes to visit, the two spending multiple minutes watching each other, reading the body language of their tails swishing behind them, until finally, Grim groans and tells Leona to be quick about it. Leona always wins, grinning victoriously as he makes his way to his darling.

Jade and Floyd who have, on multiple occasions, blackmailed, coerced (Jade), and simply grabbed and thrown him across the campus (Floyd) whenever Grim stood between them and their darling. As if someone so small could keep them away from what they want.

The teachers, who established that talks with the students are a private matter just between the teacher and the student. You may want to bring Grim, but they don't want him there. What they are going to talk about and do with you should not concern the little, self-centered cat.

Jamil 100% knows some bizarre methods of relaxing animals from his time working for Kalim. No one knows what it is and how he's doing it so damn fast, but once Grim is contently asleep, he has free access to you. After that, Grim won't wake up for a long time, not even hearing you scream from across the room.

Malleus just walks in. What's Grim supposed to do? Stop him?

Literally, the only people Grim stops are the obviously desperate ones since they are careless. But even Rook and Ace have bribed him before, so if you really want to be safe, maybe don't rely on Grim to always have your back :'D

[st4rbwrry]

𝒲𝐻𝒴 𝒟𝒪𝒩’𝒯 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝑀𝐸?

ꔫ eren fails to realize you’re in love with him and has a hard time committing. until he doesn’t have a choice but to face his fears.

꒰ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ꒱ ꔫ . . .14.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, best friends to enemies to lovers + locked in a closet, angst, lots of kissing omgie, lotss of fingering, kreamer!, conflicted feelings, oral [ f + m ], praiseeee, spanking to a t, onyankopon cameo + small fight, toxicity, multiple orgasms, rennie gets jealous, miscommunication + arguments, car sex, use of the 'n' word, small daddy kink usage, self pleasure, biting kink, eren's kinda mean, dom / sub dynamic from both, college au, both are needy, relationship establishment, pet name usage [ baby, mamas ] , minors aren't welcomed! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

ꔫ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . got my heart broke so cheers to this one!

pretty boys with eyes like his never made you want to vomit. you adored every aspect of him, always something nice to look at. it's such a shame men who look like him, ungodly creatures, had the worst fucking personalities. or so make horrible decisions in life. fumble good women. why ruin your aura? standing mere centimeters away from him to protect it currently. though you feared he'd already tainted a portion of it. collateral damage was done. he ruins the psyche of your brain when it comes to men, or being in a relationship period. you don't want to be heartless. that lover girl in you wanted to bloom like a daisy, spread her wings like an angel, and showcase herself proudly like a peacock with the one person she's loved since she was a preteen. instead, you're dealt with being mean, standing your ground, and pretending he didn't have a lock on your heart beating with need. so, yes, looking at his face, the boy you were so dangerously in love with, made you want to vomit. 

him, stubborn as usual, stood broodingly in the corner of the closet with his strong arms folded over his chest adorned in a black crewneck tee, stainless steel chain around his neck as you study the adam's apple in his throat shift at the same time he swallows in the awkward silence. solid black jeans clad to his muscular thighs, heavy leather boots covering his feet. his scent is so masculine it fills the small space; moroccan mint with woody cedar musk. that heavenly umber hair of his long in his face, growing inch by inch as the months fly by, close to grazing his shoulders. 

you cannot believe your friends barricaded the door just so the two of you could talk out your 'issues'. which, in your view, only means an apology from eren for what he did. the night had gone fine. you, eren, and a couple of your friends all going out to catch a drift meet-up. connie had gotten his taxes back and blew it all on installing skull rims and wrapping his scion frs a pearl lavender. being there mostly to cheer him on as he showed off his precious baby. afterward, grabbing ramen from a spot in chinatown. everyone decided to kick it at your house since you had a spacious living room and all the games.

since you and eren haven't spoken in two months, you kept it cordial. well, that's a lie. briefly spoken. the interactions between you two are nothing short of hi's and hello's. ' how've you been? fine, you? yeah, i'm cool. oh, you got a new tattoo? yeah, the other day. that's nice. hey, congrats on the new home. thanks.' quite frankly, your friends have gotten sick of it. it was ruining the vibe of the group by the two of you being so distant. surrounded by each other in your dimly lit living room, high ceilings, and abstract art while soft rnb played soundly in the background. eren sunk comfortably into your velvet emerald green sofa alongside connie, ymir, and armin. sitting opposite of you while you rested on your loveseat with a glass of sangria in your hand. swirling it while smiling and laughing at any question picked from the stack of cards from a game titled 'we're not really strangers.'

you hated the internal connection you and eren held. no matter what was going on, listening to each of your friends spew nonsense and hysterical laughter, you couldn't keep your eyes off one another. you'd glance, admire his features while deep in thought about all the good things, then the bad. and when he'd catch you, more like feel your burning glare, you'd immediately revert your attention to something else. vice versa. both of you were saying a lot without saying anything. 

"꒰♡꒱, it's your turn!" the sound of your name being called kicks you out of your conscience, blinking to clear your view when you realize you'd lost it glaring into your wine glass. you clear your throat, your right leg that's thrown over your left jumping up and down. 

"oh, sorry!" you smile faintly, straightening your posture to lean forward and snatch one of the red cards from the deck. 

"you're getting tired, aren't you? you're always the first one to fall asleep," ymir pressed, chewing on her newly popped in gum as she manspreads, long arms sprawled behind connie and armin onto the headrest.

“it’s just the wine getting to me,” you suck your teeth, your statement being true. the alcohol in your system making you feel more things than one. flipping the card, you read what it says. 

"what are you attracted to that you know isn't good for you?" the inhale and exhale you create as you stare blankly at the card in your hand makes it all too known of the answer you wanted to say, but won't. unexpectedly, your sight scrolls to him, and it makes goosebumps arise on your skin from the look he doesn't give you.

“you're right, i am tired. think i’m going to head to bed.”

the crew watches as you remove the kuromi throw blanket off your lap and take a stand, eren’s eyes strong on your figure as you down the rest of your wine. ymir’s eyes shift between you and him, the urge to say something stronger than ever. though, connie beats her to it. 

“nah, sit back down. we need to talk.” 

you glare at him, eren doing the same, and everyone’s silent. connie leans forward, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to rub frustratingly at his temple. “let’s be adults and just address the elephant in the room.” 

“what are you talking about?” 

“you know exactly what i’m talking about. this silent, petty feud between you two has been going on for damn near two months and i'm sick of it.” 

“agreed,” armin nods, pushing his blonde hair away from his face, clenching his jaw in the process. “we’re too fucking grown for childish behavior. the two of you need to talk and situate your issues privately.” 

“they’re right. it’s fucking up the vibe of the group,” ymir pitches in. 

deep down, you hate to say they were right. but you still felt like you had nothing to say to him, let alone nothing to apologize for. if anything he owed you one. and you’ll stand on that because he’s fucking immature. 

“i pray y'all aren’t thinking i’m the reason for this. if we don’t remember, i’m not the person who fucked on another girl around the same time he supposedly wanted to date me.” 

that’s when eren picks his head up, throwing silent daggers your way. you’re trying to make him out to be a villain when that wasn't the case. “we had already established that we were just friends. i don’t know why you still have this insight that i, what . . cheated on you or sum?” 

the blood in your veins began to boil, scoffing angrily and prodding your inner check with the point of your tongue. “right, because i’m that delusional.” 

“stop,” connie squeezes his eyes shut, getting fed up even further. “this bickering shit is the definition of childish. please just go talk, i’m getting a migraine.” 

“as long as he’s willing to be honest, sure. but if he’s just going to waste my time, then i have nothing to say,” you shrug, uncaring.  

“in some way you still want him around, because if that wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t be here,” ymir counters, not fond of your sudden attitude. 

“i can speak for myself,” eren interrupts, tired of being the pass around subject. “i don’t have a problem talking. . . if she’s not g’na punch me.” 

“nigg—” 

“alright!” armin raises to his feet, tall body towering yours before he’s lifting you off your feet and tossing you over his shoulder quicker than everyone could blink. a gasp falls from you, wriggling your feet as you yell at him to put you down, groaning like a child. 

armin finds the nearest closet and sets you down in it, giving a look not to try it. it’s rare to see armin irritated, so he must’ve really been fed up when you see his eyes go dead as he glares at you while raising his palm telling you to stop. you pout, crossing your arms and huffing as you take a seat on a pile of shoe boxes. turning his head, he sees eren sighing and standing to his feet before willingly entering the closet. 

armin steps out, giving a fatherly obedient look between the two of you before closing the door. “be nice. handle your shit. we’re going to grab food.” 

“food?” you gasp. “wha—i want some!” 

“greedy,” eren remarks under his breath. you shoot him a deadly glare. 

“fuck you say?” 

“i’m not arguing with you over food.”

“wait, are we really getting food?” ymir whispers to connie who confusingly raises his hands. 

“no, we’re going to sit here until they figure their shit out,” armin whispers back, taking long strides back towards the couch where he plops down and sinks into. stuffing his hands into his gray hoodie pockets after lowering the hood over his head, closing his eyes. 

“they’re gonna fuck, watch,” ymir chuckles, getting up to search your pantry for more liquor, maybe even digging in your fridge for food, now that they mentioned it. “y'all want pasta?” 

“what kind?” connie looks up over his phone. 

“mhm,” ymir continues to scout, grimacing at your close to empty fridge. “she only has ingredients for pesto pasta. healthy bitch.” 

“pass,” connie and armin reject simultaneously.

“more for me!” 

now here the two of you stood, in utter silence. you’re avoiding his sharp gaze as much as you can, twiddling anxiously with your fingers. this is the last situation you want to be in right now. the warmth in your cheeks when you catch him staring is the bitch of all trades. that love you held deeply in your chest for years magnetically pulling you to submission. to care. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly in your ears. taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. this was important. the two of you needed to get past this if there’s going to be any change to your relationship. this had to be fixed. 

“it seems like you want me to start,” reeling you in, his heavy feet hit the ground the closer he gets to you, nearly standing over you in all of his handsome glory. the air shifts and it feels hotter. you can practically hear the swallow in your throat. why did he feel the need to be so close? who knows. maybe it’s some sort of intimidation tactic. “where should i start?” 

“hm, i’d say — apologize for being misleading,” your response is nothing but blunt, your emotions getting the best of your original intent. 

eren’s mouth goes agape, chuckling with genuine confusion, brows furrowed in concern. “again, how was i misleading? we've never been anything but friends. i never led you on or made you feel like there was something more between us."

“eren, you literally told me that you wanted to try something new and be apart of me on a deeper level than you were. this was after we had sex, twice need i remind you. then, i find you fucking another girl the day you initiated us to hang out. then you had the nerve to argue with me, and call me fucking crazy.” 

“i didn’t call you crazy. i said you needed to go home and sleep off whatever shit you were on that night because you cussed that girl out and almost beat her face in for what? we are not together, ꒰♡꒱.” 

“i know that,” the muscles in your jaw spasm from the pressure you put into gritting your teeth. the pain of his denial cutting deep. “you say it as if it’d be such a nuisance. that ‘you’re my best friend’ shit went out the window years ago, and you and me both know it. it’s not my fault you have a hard time with commitment.” 

“i don’t have a hard time with commitment,” he scoffs, patience fraying. “i told you that i care for you, and you mean a lot to me. that i have love for you, not that i was in love with you. i value our friendship above anything.” 

the more he speaks, the more you come to the realization that this is becoming a waste of time, as you expected. there’s a burn in your throat that’s coaxing the tears to well in your eyes. you’re not going to cry, he doesn’t deserve to see you that way. and it felt pathetic to even do so. he’s throwing the truth directly in your face, but somehow . . you find it hard to believe him. there’s just that small hope that deep down inside he felt the same. 

“i don’t understand what you’re afraid of. are you not attracted to me? am i not enough for you? is there another girl on your mind?” and that’s when the desperation pours. that level of dissecting yourself to grasp the context of why he doesn’t want you. your leg bounces out of anxiety, scratching at your thigh with the point of your acrylic. trying your hardest to keep yourself from having a mental breakdown. 

eren’s eyes soften at your reaction, his mouth going dry at the clear effect this had on you. months, years worth of emotions built up for him. it makes a heavy pang in his heart, wondering how he could be so blind and stupid. his intentions were never meant to hurt you. 

“why would you think that?" eren asks, tilting his head slightly. "i never gave you any indication that you weren't good enough for me. why can’t i just not be ready?”

the words roll off his tongue easily, like they were rehearsed. “if you weren’t ready, eren, you could’ve just been upfront with me to avoid this shit from the jump. i would’ve went about my life if you laid it down on the table in bold fucking letters. but every time we were together, you made me feel like — we had a chance. the hugs, the kisses, the ‘i love you’s, the sex. you treated me like i was your girl. and i could say i’m running with the subject. but, i wouldn’t do that if i didn’t have something being fed to me. i’m not an idiot.” 

“i just —” he goes to knock his head back, blowing out a huff of air as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “i don’t want to hurt you, ꒰♡꒱. i don’t know if i can be the person you need right now. i can’t give you what you want. it’s complicated, and it’s not fair to you. i like you, a lot. i can’t explain my exact feelings, but i’ve always been attracted to you. i thought once that maybe it could work out between us, but the more time goes on, the more i realize how fucked up i am. you deserve better. and it kills me to say even that.” 

this was triggering for some reason, feeling claustrophobic from the close proximity of his body between the small space of your closet. it’s all making you sick. you felt like you were going to have a panic attack if you stayed in here with him any longer. standing up, you brush past him to rush towards the door, twisting the knob frantically only to find it locked. fuck. groaning, you bang on the door, anticipated to kick it down if no one let you out in the next five seconds. 

“꒰♡꒱, stop and take a breath,” eren’s well aware of how you get when you’re stressed out, actions turning frantic as you rest your forehead against the cold door. “baby, look at me.” 

"oh, nah. we a little late for that,” you respond after you turn to face him, shaking your head. “see, you say shit like that because you know how i feel about you. you’re real good at manipulating me. real good. you make me feel like i'm drowning by the weight of my emotions. i hate this, hate this. you make me too vulnerable. and you call me baby? h-how else am i supposed to think?” 

“i’m sorry,” his hands go to grab your arms. your body stiffens under his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. you can't help but notice the sincerity in his eyes, the conviction in his tone. part of you wants to believe him, to accept that this is truly all there ever was between you. but the other part, the part that's been carrying a torch for him for years, refuses to let go so easily.

“please believe me when i say that. i never, ever meant to hurt you. and i truly do apologize for not being honest from the beginning. and i will continue to apologize because i genuinely feel bad.” 

his voice is softer now, less defensive, more genuine. it's clear that despite his initial reluctance, he does cherish your friendship, and he values your presence in his life. but, you’re still conflicted. 

"i — i don't know, eren. i don’t think i can accept that,” you whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the weight of his rejection settles heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

eren hesitates briefly before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. the warmth of his body seeps into yours, providing a comforting counterpoint to the cold reality of the current situation. it stuns you, your body slowly relaxing into his hold, letting the familiar comfort wash over you. he’s laying your head endearingly on his chest, brushing his hand along the back of your head. suddenly, eren slowly pulls from you, his intense stare into your eyes blurring your thoughts, glitching when he tucks a curl behind your ear before inching his face toward yours and shockingly kissing you.

your eyes widen in surprise as his lips press against yours, the suddenness of the gesture leaving you momentarily stunned. but as the sensation registers, your body responds instinctively, melting into the kiss. your hands come up to rest on his chest, fingers digging lightly into his shirt as you return the kiss with equal fervor. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. it's as if the last two months of hurt and confusion have never happened, and you're transported back to a time when the possibility of something more between you seemed within reach.

eren breaks the kiss abruptly, pulling back with a flush on his cheeks. you look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort or regret. but instead, you see something else entirely — desire, longing, and a hint of uncertainty. he swallows hard, opening his mouth to say something, but no words come out. instead, he closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head slightly. "fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t know why i did that,” he mutters, turning away from you.

the air grows even heavier, and you can’t help but to pull him back into your grasp, his heavy hands sitting on your hips he grips roughly to pull you closer. his mouth is back on yours within seconds, widening his jaw to deepen the kiss, your lips smacking and your back suddenly pressing against the wall. as the kiss intensifies, you moan softly, feeling a wave of heat wash over you. your hands slide from his face to his shoulders, holding him tightly. 

your hips grind against his, seeking friction, craving the closeness that only he can provide. every inch of your being screams for more, for a deeper connection, for a fulfillment that only he can offer. eren groans into your mouth, his own hands roaming over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a hunger that belies his previous reticence. he presses himself harder against you, his erection throbbing with need. his movements become more deliberate, more urgent, as if he's trying to bridge the gap between you two with every fiber of his being.

“your legs are shaking,” he whispers, now resting a hand on your inner thigh. 

you nod shyly, his big hand making you pulsate. you spread your legs wider. “touch me. please."

his tongue swirls around the side of your neck as his breath tickles your skin, making you shiver slightly as he continues the kisses down to your collarbone. then, his hand moves up your thigh more, now moving it’s way under your short black skirt to pull your thong to the side, eyes rolling back into your skull when his fingers make contact with your soaked clit. a simple touch from him easily arousing you. 

"talk to me. i need to hear your voice."

eren removes your shirt, needing so badly to feel your skin beneath his burning fingertips. whispering into your ear as he talks you through it, placing his fingers back onto your clit. “you're enjoying this, aren't you?" 

“you make me so wet,” you whimper, raising your right thigh to give him further access. 

“i bet i do,” your body prickles with fire the moment he takes your neck into his hold to choke you, his brows furrowed as the two of you listen to your sluice clit he rubs circles onto. licking his lips, he spreads your lips apart before sinking his fingers in knuckle deep, the illicit squelch making his dick shift. both of you make the same expression of pleasure, eren moaning from the strong grip your pussy has on his fingers, missing that. 

despite the overwhelming pleasure, you manage to stifle your cries, biting your lip to keep silent as eren’s fingers curl inside you, stroking that sweet spot that makes your vision blur and your legs tremble. he removes them momentarily, collecting your juices to rub your hardened clit again. you pull him in to moan into his neck, tugging onto his long hair, eren responding to your silent plea by plunging his long fingers into your dripping cunt.

“mmm, fuck,” your face curls up from the heat swimming in your lower tummy. feeling the way you moan into his neck sends shock waves through his body. the grasp on his hair only makes him apply more pressure to your spot, pushing you further and further.

“look at you taking that shit. you love my fingers?”

you nod drunkenly. "yea, love your fingers." 

"you love my fingers, baby?" he hums in your ear condescendingly. 

"i love them so much, baby," you whine, unable to control your breath. 

“fuck,” eren couldn’t take it anymore, crouching before you to hungrily latch his lips onto your clit. a high-pitched moan flows past your mouth unexpectedly, eren lifting your leg to set it on his shoulder, sucking you into his mouth, and swallowing every drip that leaks from you. 

“cover your mouth, pretty. you sound too good. ima bust.” eren’s mouth never leaves your pussy as he speaks, his words muffled by your wetness. 

each thrust of his fingers sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, while his tongue works on your clit, coaxing moans and whimpers from your lips. eren’s mouth works tirelessly on your pussy, his tongue lapping rapidly over your clit while his fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. he alternates between long, slow strokes and quick, frantic thrusts, determined to wring every last moan from your lips. his free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as he pulls you even closer, ensuring that not an inch of your body is left untouched by his desire.

your back arches off the wall as the first shockwave of your climax rip through you, your thighs quivering and your pussy spasming around eren’s fingers. he doesn't let up, continuing to lick and suckle your clit through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. as the sensations begin to subside only a little, you slump against the wall, panting heavily. eren reluctantly pulls away, his lips glistening with your juices. he looks up at you with a smirk, his own arousal still evident. 

"fuck, you real sweet," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust, standing back on his feet while keeping his fingers inside of you. craving more. "you're making this really difficult for me, ꒰♡꒱.” his breath grows sharper. "you're so loud when you moan for me. tryna make everybody hear you?" 

"your voice," you hiccup weakly, speaking the thought aloud, loving how he talks to you. 

"you like my voice?" he hums, planting a sloppy, haste kiss amongst your pouty lips you’d bitten red. he raises his brow, repeating himself since you’re so fucked out. “you like my voice, right?" 

"yes, daddy," you scream out. 

"daddy? that's new," the grin is all too evident. you're too deep in your pleasure to acknowledge the embarrassment. nodding along. not seeming to care that you're barely conscious. 

"erennn! m'gonna cum!" you warn, gripping onto his shifting wrist, arching your chest into his. 

“gimme that shit then, baby. cum on my fingers like you always do. so goddamn needy.” 

uncaring of the people outside of the closet, you whine his name loudly, gyrating your hips into his palm your pussy gushed on. as you struggle to maintain control, your orgasm builds rapidly, coiling tight in your belly before bursting forth in a torrent of ecstasy. gushing on his fingers. eren's eyes go wide, slapping his big hand over your mouth to somewhat muffle your sounds.  

"shhh, fuck mamas," he stares at you with desire, keeping his fingers moving. "pussy drippin’ all on me." 

you stare at him blissfully, that pretty little head of yours thinking of nothing but how good he just made you feel. how hard he made you cum. even with just his fingers, it felt like nothing you've felt before. dazed, and unable to speak, you reach to unravel the belt on his hips connected to his heaving stomach. you've got him so fucking horny he's not sure if he can stop you right now. no longer giving a fuck who hears. that's their problem. it’s their fault anyways. 

"i want it," you give him widened eyes, noticing he left his head for a moment. 

"i can't stop once i start, m'telling you that right now,” his breath hitches, following your guide of undoing his jeans. 

"i. want. it," you repeat slowly, making it clear. 

“mm, that was sexy,” he grins, pecking your lips once more. you giggle when he lifts you up, turning and pulling one of your jackets off a hanger to lay down so you won’t hurt your back, the gesture making you smile stupidly. 

"this closet is too fuckin' small, my back hurts," eren complains. 

his jeans are clad to his waist, small beauty marks littered around his stomach up to his chest area. v-line sharp and abdomen toned with fairly tanned skin. he exudes masculinity. his pubic hairs are dark, trimmed as usual, and his dick sits heavy on your mound, a pearl of precum forming at the tip just daring to be licked up. your mouth watered every time you observed him. his attractiveness something you’ll never forget. you gasped when he taps your clit with his dick, hearing the two of you connect makes the big man above you groan desperately. 

"put it in you," he spanks your inner thigh, holding them up and open for you, his entire body arched dominantly over your small frame. “don't hurt yourself." 

“ ‘kay,” you nod shyly, wrapping your palm around his dick, the skin hot and rushing with blood, sucking your pudgy stomach in and lifting your head up some more to see at a better angle. relaxing your hips, you breathe slowly, rubbing his tip up and down your entrance before carefully pulling him into yourself. 

“nng,” you whimper, face scrunched up from the pain of the stretch. he’s aware by now of how much time you need to take him fully considering his size. 

“breathe, babe. you think too much, that’s why it hurts,” he whispered, kissing your forehead to keep his composure. he’s only halfway in and he feels like he’s close to nutting. “let go, lemme work it in.” 

you listen, laying back down fully while eren takes the lead. he’s gently swaying his hips to maneuver his way in, both of you watching it go in and out with fascination. his dick is thick, and it feels like he’s splitting you open every single time. but once he’s inside, you love that feeling of being stuffed, being completely apart of him. his body is now in full contact with your legs, eren hissing, a rumble in his throat borderline feral as he fucks you hard once he’s sure you’re okay.  

because you’ve came twice, you already felt sensitive and easy to another orgasm. it didn’t mean to happen so fast, but the moment his pace picks up, his thighs clash heavily against your own as he pressed your tummy down and fucked you deep, and you cum again. squeaking and trembling beneath him, the wet patpat of his dick pounding into you making you both dizzy. eren spews expletives in repetitions silently, watching your eyes go white, pretty individuals wispy on your lash line. 

he sees how much effort you're putting in to keep your noises in. “fuck them, lemme hear you.”

now his face is in yours, his moans burning your stomach even worse. it feels like a sickness how much you get off from hearing him, or any sound of weakness he makes. 

"god . . eren!" you hiss in pleasure. 

the heat was overbearing. the small proximity of the closet mixed with your skin connecting salaciously made you equally sweaty. beads of it sticking to eren's forehead, dampening his brown hair, turning them into curly ringlets. in no time, eren pulls himself out to fist his dick, twisting his wrist as he tugs his orgasm out of himself, cumming on your warm stomach. 

“shit, baby. you feel good every fuckin’ time,” he’s leaning in to give you another kiss. he sits up on his knees, dragging your thong completely off to wipe up his mess. “i can give you better. i wasn't done." 

you laugh and place your hand on his face, pushing it away with laughter. "move, boy. i need to get out of this damn closet.” 

"fine," he rolls his eyes playfully, fixing his pants and standing to his feet. "ima head to the bathroom.”

"hey," you protest with a pout. "come get me, i'm sore. you fucked me into the floor.” 

“i put the jacket down,” eren goes to grab for your hand and you make a disgruntled cry. 

“pick me up, dummy." 

to your luck the door ends up being unlocked now, and that gives you a clear explanation that they were in fact ear hustling. when eren opens the door and you’re huddled behind him shyly, the only person asleep was armin. connie ended up powering on your playstation to play the last of us two while ymir watched in agony over the storyline. the game gets immediately paused when the two of you show your faces. eren’s is stoic as usual, while yours is filled with embarrassment as you hide behind his tall figure. 

“i knew y’all were fucking listening, perverts,” eren calls them out, a cocky smirk displayed on his features. 

“got a little loud so we needed a distraction,” ymir replied, laughing as she stared at you. “i see you had a good time.” 

“not too much,” you warn, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“we talked just like y’all wanted. so, thanks for that.” 

you pout. “aren't you glad we made up?" 

"oh, definitely, for sure," arrogance is laced in his voice, turning back to them. "y’all got to hear us become really good friends, huh?" 

there’s that word again. friends. it bothered you again. that uncomfortable feeling in your tummy daring to ruin your mood. so, you brush it off. 

"y'all not g’na fight no more? cause i'm sick of it.” 

"we found a new way to fight," you break in a joke. 

"so remember that shower we need to take?" eren reminds you. 

"shower?! aw hell, they locked in." 

"bring your ass," eren swats your behind, possessively placing his hand on your hips to tug you along. you stumble next to him with a giggle, tripping over your feet up the stairs as he laughs at you, the two of you rushing towards the bathroom. 

this is the first time the two of you ever shared a shower together, talking as normal as you watch each other bathe. eren admires your beauty, having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. a few moments of you swatting them away happening. you knew it was your house, so you could do whatever you wanted. but already having sex with him knowing your friends were mere inches away felt improper. as you lathered your body in soap, he traces your skin tenderly. you look up at him with starry eyes, emotions coming to full conclusion. you might actually love this man. he feels that spark, studying your face like a lovesick boy. 

"what?" you ask cluelessly. 

"nothing," he swallows, internally punching himself in the face. he's holding back again. unable to understand why. what's he protecting exactly? himself or you? he's unsure. 

eren slips his same attire back on while you toss on an oversized nightmare on elm street t-shirt after lathering your body in baby oil. you mentioned to eren that you were hungry, and he offered to drive you anywhere you wanted to feed you. rushing down the steps in a pair, you catch only connie up this time, ymir passed out sleep on your rug flat on her back. 

"finished showering?" connie asks, being slick as usual. 

"it was sooo fun," you exaggerate, raising your middle finger. "we're getting food. bye!" 

"bye!" eren copies with a chirp, mocking your excited wave. 

since your apartment resides near the campus, the area you lived had plenty of food joints, some that would stay open later than usual. you decided on denny’s since it was seven in the morning by this point and you didn’t want to eat too heavy knowing you were going straight to sleep once you get back. the line is long and the two of you stand fairly close together. you cling to his side, making the initiative to hold his hand. eren's unsure, again, why he's withholding how he wants to feel. he drops your hand, leaving you to feel awkward and out of place almost. you felt a pang in your chest from the action, taking a deep breath, ignoring it, and waiting to be seated. 

the service was pretty quick, ordering what you both wanted which was a stack of pancakes with bacon and home fries and receiving it within ten minutes. he does his best to try and enjoy his food, though his gaze keeps shifting over to you. your mood changed, he obviously noticed since you’ve barely spoken, hiding your face in your phone to avoid conversation. it's bothering him. he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this for the time being. so he decided to eat his food. 

"why'd you drop my hand like that?" 

he stops eating, looking at you as he sets his fork down. it takes a minute for him to figure out what you’re pressing about before he recalls. “sorry, i just didn't want people thinking the wrong thing." 

that takes you aback. what the fuck? “and what would be the wrong thing?" you raise your brow with irritation. 

"look, i just don't need people in my business." 

"why do you care what people think?" the anger is kicking in. maybe you were overreacting. granted, you two didn't establish your relationship fully. you also didn't think it was a big deal to hold his hand. it's like your confession earlier never happened. 

"i don't think it's a big deal. i would rather not have to deal with people asking uncomfortable questions. it'll lead to a lot of unnecessary drama." 

"you mean with them bitches you fucked," you retaliate. "because god forbid you have a girlfriend, right?" 

"who said you were my girlfriend?" eren asks rather coldly. and that makes you silent. he realizes then how rude that came out. that's not what he meant. "wait, i'm . .” 

"basically, to conclude, you don't want to date me. noted." 

"i never said that . . .” 

"so, what then, eren? am i not good enough for you to show off? you wanna keep me a secret? like some girl you just fuck, who, by the way, you admitted your feelings for. normal people date after shit like that gets said. i don't care what people think about me, that's your problem." 

“of course you don’t, there’s nothing to think about when you only spread your legs once a year. you aren’t fucking on people like i am,” he replies, a bit too quickly, a response that is barely thoroughly planned out. he tried to apologize, but the words ended up getting caught in his neck. “i —”

"end of conversation," you snarl. that was so low of him to say. 

“i just meant you don’t express yourself sexually like i do. not that it’s a problem, i just have a reputation. i told you i’m not in a place to be what you want right now.” 

"i’m doing my best not to punch you in your fuckin’ face right now, so i advise you to be careful what you say next. in fact, don’t say anything at all.” 

words aren’t spoken for the majority of your meal after that, unable to finish all of your food since all you wanted to do was go home and cry in your pillow. he keeps toying with your heart again and again. it’s wildly frustrating. he pays the tab and you’re on your way back home, the car ride is silent as well. before you go to exit, he stops you. 

"can i say one last thing before you leave?" 

you turn to him, dead silent. 

"i am sorry for everything i said. you're right, i shouldn't care so much about what other people think. i should've said that from the beginning, and i didn’t mean to call you out like that. that was disrespectful, i admit. i just want us to be like we used to be simply because i hate hurting you. you mean a lot to me. you’re my best friend.”

left stuck, you only say what he wants to hear. "i understand. i just need time to think." 

"i understand." he says back, shifting his eyes back towards the steering wheel. 

you don't seem as angry as before, mostly because you’ve mentally checked out, so he's not entirely sure what else to say. he just wanted to let you know he meant everything. but, it's far too late for that. he'd said enough a few moments ago. and it's exactly what you needed to hear to realize that he'd never be ready for you. he'd never be mature enough for a relationship. he'd never see you as his first choice. still keeping that childish mentality of fucking girls to get his nut and ruin their hearts. it's enough. 

eren goes inside to grab armin and ymir to take them back to the dorm since they drove here together. connie lets himself out, everyone says goodbye, and you close your door without giving eren so much as another look. 

𓇼 

three months fly by and you two never contacted one another. eren noticed you avoid him on campus whenever you spot him. weeks of eyeing his phone for your text or call. he got the message clear, but it hurt his feelings, possibly on the same level he hurt yours. he stalked your account any chance he got, never missing a story. it was the only access to keeping a piece of you with him. that only lasted a month before you soft-blocked him. making your story unavailable to his eyesight but never having the balls to unfollow . . . just in case. having that small feel of hope that he'd come around and show you that he's everything you want in a man. albeit fairly likely.

all eren can do is go about his life and hope that you’d make the decision to keep him in yours. connie noticed how down eren was today, dragging him to come watch the homecoming football game. he’s dressed depressingly in black sweats with a dark green hoodie, resting his back against the bleachers with his eyes shut, trying to block out the exaggerated screams people made for the team. it’s a big game considering it’s the last before winter break, and it’s home based. eren peaked his eye open to watch connie chow down a hotdog, obnoxiously chewing and catching his irritated glare. 

“is it good?” eren bluntly acknowledges. 

connie raises his middle finger unspoken, ignoring his moody friend and focusing on the cheerleaders twisting and flipping. “oh, there’s ꒰♡꒱.” 

eren shoots up in a flash, the hood over his head hiding most of his gorgeous face. “where?” 

eren follows connie’s guide pointing in the direction you stand. and there you were, looking pretty as ever. he swore his heart skipped a beat. gorgeous face with a light beat of makeup, illuminating a soft, dollete glam with pink blush, brown lip liner, gloss, and heavy highlight on your nose and inner corner of your eyes that glowed under the beaming lights from the football field. your hair is straightened, styled in a half up half down with the bun spiked, enhancing your facial features. incredibly cut dark-washed denim shorts hugging your thighs while a baby pink oversized jersey covers your top halve. 

eren studies you like a lover does poetry, heart awestruck by your beauty, your aura radiating halfway across the field. god, he misses you so damn much. that daydream lala land in his head comes to an immediate halt when he spots a guy laughing in your face as the two of you bump noses in a disgustingly cute eskimo kiss. the muscles in eren’s jaw shifts, his eyes lowering and darkening as his posture changes. straightening his back and spreading his legs wide before he’s moving his neck and chest forward like a venomous snake, observing your interaction intently. 

it’s honestly scary how quickly his anger consumes him, his entire body going up in flames as he stares at the two of you like a giant crow hiding in the trees. his body is solid, barely even breathing as he finds torture in you pouring gatorade into this man’s mouth, his helmet in one hand while the other brushes your hair away from your face, bright white teeth shining as he smiles at you. you use a towel to dab off any excess sweat from his brown skin. then, eren realizes something. he knows this guy. 

onyankopon. a quarterback, a valedictorian in high school, and a student in his physics class. eren grows jealous. it was clear to him that you had a thing for him, eren trying to avoid showing any hints of jealousy so connie wouldn't bring it up even if deep down inside, he felt it. eren watches you giggle in onyankopon's face. he's way too close to you. it bothers him beyond comprehension. you and onyankopon have been messing around for the exact time you broke contact with eren. fucking around every now and thence, attending classes, and enjoying your life since it didn’t end when the man you were madly in love with rejected you. you were attracted to him for sure. he made you laugh, cooked for you, taught you how to ride his motorcycle. . a bunch of lovey shit you never felt before. but, your feelings for eren ruined any chance for you to be fully devoted.

it’s hard for eren to even sit through the remainder of this game, barely paying attention to the players and eyeing you almost the entire time. cheering, jumping up and down whenever onyankopon made a move let alone breathed. you’re like a goddamn fan girl. your friends seem to encourage you, purposely pushing you into him at times when he ran back over for your opinion. it’s like he finally exhales when the games over, connie knocking him from his trance of scrutiny. 

“yo, let’s go. we gotta party to get to.” 

the sigh is loud from eren, exasperated so. “who the fuck said i was up for a party? we have finals in two days. you dragged me from studying for this shitty ass game.” 

connie raises his hands in defense. “woah, fucker. you gotta stick up your ass, pull it out.” 

“i’m going home.” 

as eren begins to rise, connie refuses to move out of his path. “this is about ꒰♡꒱, isn’t it?” 

his shoulders raise defensively. “tread lightly, con.” 

“save me the bullshit, eren. for once just act like you give a fuck about the girl and go talk to her. this has been a repetition. how are you ever going to solve issues if you’re constantly running from them?” 

“she doesn’t want to speak to me. she made that extremely clear.” 

“did she say that, or did you just make her feel it?” 

eren didn’t have time for confrontation, stretching his leg over the bench to cross over him, walking away. “whatever, man. i’ll see you.” 

connie clenched his jaw, scoffing. “see, that’s your damn problem now! you can’t admit when you fuck up. that girl loves you to death and you keep playing in her fucking face! now you’re mad ‘cause you see her with somebody else. that’s bullshit and you know it.” 

eren stops in his tracks, and pulls the hood off his head before slowly turning back in his direction. “okay, maybe you’re right. i’m a fuck up. she already made up her mind by ignoring me for three months. i’m not forcing anything.”

“how do you know she’s not waiting for you to step up and finally do the chasing?” connie arches his brow. eren rolls his lips. “you had that girl hoping and waiting for you to finally reciprocate your feelings, and you lead her on back to back. she chased after you while you thought with your dick for other women. i’m sure she’ll be at the party. go find her and talk to her. and if she’s not fuckin’ with it, then you’ll know to really leave it alone. simple as that.” 

and that’s how eren ended up at the party. it was packed, obviously. they’d won the big game and chose this celebration as an excuse to get fucked up. connie smoked with eren for a bit before he disappeared to talk to some girl he’d been trying to date. eren's drinking heavy liquor, conversing somewhat with some people he knew to clear his head a little. there’s a few women who try to shoot their shot towards him, but he politely declines. the ‘my girl is here’ line seems to work. speaking of, he can't help but be distracted by you. seeing you dance with your friends, act a fool, and flirt with onyankopon whilst sitting on his lap. it enrages him in a way he can't explain. 

not to mention you're wearing his varsity jacket, snuggled into it. this is the last thing eren wanted to find. he wasn't planning on his blood boiling as he stood at the doorway, knocking back the remainder of his hennessy and approaching you the minute he watched onyankopon stick his tongue in your mouth, the two of you lost in each other as you kissed. he doesn’t comprehend his own body movements when he brushes through a sea of people to come your way. 

"what the fuck are you doing, ꒰♡꒱?" eren interrupts, glaring at you furiously. he had a right to be mad, right? weren't you the one who ignored him? blocked him? avoided him? 

you're stunned to see him, let alone hear what came out of his mouth. "excuse me?" you retort, shellshocked by his behavior.

"some nerve you have to act like i don't fuckin’ exist for three months, then i catch you sitting on somebody's lap like it's nothing," he's being outright rude and blunt, unsure if he's aware of it. could've been the alcohol, or what he's been feeling for months piling up into one bubble. and he finally let it burst.

onyankopon grows irritated by this. not only did he interrupt the two of you, but he was talking out his mouth crazy. "i know you ain't talking to her like that." 

"i don't remember stuttering. i'm looking dead at her, aren't i?" eren's stern with his remark.

his statement is senile, your head immediately pounding with a migraine from his stupid ass attack. that's when you get mad. "what? last time we spoke, you told me you didn't want to be with me and only saw me as someone you wanted to fuck on the low. so what the fuck makes you think it's okay to yell in my face about some shit you ended?!" 

"oh, he's lost his fuckin mind," onyankopon chuckles sinisterly, not even giving him a chance to reply. shaking his head in a 'this nigga got me fucked up' kinda way. your heart speeds up in panic as onyankopon's hands hold onto either side of your waist before he gently lifts you to stand along with you. "eren, right?" 

eren can feel his cheeks burn, the anger intensifying now that he's face to face with onyankopon. your heart is ready to drop out of your chest at the thought of them fighting right now. please, no. "i'm sure you knew that, don't ask stupid questions." 

anyone can see the heat building up in onyankopon's eyes, the people in the area whispering to one another while watching. your anxiety is skyrocketing. two big men fighting over you would be hot inside of a novel, yes. but you hated the idea of violence. especially from men. it triggered your flight mode and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball and cover your ears like a scared child. "guys, wait —"

"nah, baby. let him finish," his hand goes up insinuating a pause. "nigga got so much shit to say to you on some pussy shit. be a man and talk to me.”

before you get the chance to say anything, eren’s fist goes flying into onyankopon’s nose, his head aggressively knocking to the side, looking as if it spun off his neck for a moment. "how's that for some pussy shit?" 

gasps fill along the room, your hand going to your mouth as you watch onyankopon swing back, connecting his hit back. two of his teammates go to hold him back, knowing this isn’t some shit he needed to get into right now. you take the initiative to grab eren’s attention, knowing it’s dumb to jump between men in rage, but you felt like only you could stop him right now. his face is as red as a tomato, grabbing and tugging at his shirt with all of your strength he’s surprised you can even move him. almost stumbling over from your aggression. onyankopon’s friends drag him away from the situation before it got worse. in the process, he noticed you didn’t look his way not once, not even to check if he was alright. 

"eren, chill!" you finally snap. "let's go out back and talk. you're fucking embarrassing me." 

everyone watches as you drag him by his shirt like a bad ass child, shoving open the door that lead to the back area of the fraternity house, a few people there but you find a spot under a tree further down the hill. finally letting go, you take a few steps away from him, ready to blow from the anger streaming in your veins. thankfully, the smell from the lake and the wind blowing soothed you in some way. your arms are crossed over your chest, listening to the muffled noise of music booming inside the house and shutting your eyes. 

“eren, what are you doing here?” 

“connie dragged me here. believe me, i would’ve never come. especially after seeing you two boo’d up at the game. he your man now?” 

a sarcastic snort comes from you, twisting your body and looking his way. it’s been months since you’ve made contact with this man, and his aura still pulls you in. you truly despised it. “you need to apologize to him for starting an unnecessary fight. you don’t even know him to be acting like that.” 

adding salt to the already open wound, eren responds with a petty shrug and a scoff. “he had that shit coming.” 

“wow,” the smile lines around your mouth deepen and your lower lip pokes out as you frown, making an expression of disbelief. "you have a lot of nerve acting like you're my boyfriend when you settled for friendship only. do you not recall? or do i need to refresh your dry ass memory?” 

he's bitter about the situation still, that’s clear as day. he also assumed you were okay after the conversation you had in the car that night. but, he was wrong. he remains silent, fearing that his jumbled thoughts would fuck up what he really wanted to say. 

"if you couldn't see that i was hurt about what you told me that night, then you truly don't care. i kept my distance because you knew how i felt about you and you chose to be oblivious. i met ony and he made me forget about you. then you break back into my life whenever it's convenient for you. i'm not going to be available for you on your terms." 

"so you're using him to get over me?" 

"as i'm allowed to because you're not my man!" you narrow your brows. "aren’t you the same one that said i only spread my legs once a year? you’re mad ‘cause it’s not for you anymore, right?”

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.” 

“me and ony are just friends. whatever we got going on is none of your concern." 

"it's my concern if we gonna be together. therefore, he gotta go." 

"oh, now you wanna be with me," you scoff. "you're three months — no . . six months late. if you don't recall, you tried this shit before our friends forced us to make up. again, due to your ignorance of my emotions. i shouldn't have to wait for you to decide whether or not i'm worth being in your future. i am not a fantasy! i'm not here for you to fuck when you need to feel something! i deserve someone who's going to love me and give me the romance i crave! you don’t care enough about me no matter what you say.” 

tears are welling in your eyes now, and that breaks eren's heart beyond measure. "꒰♡꒱ . . ." 

"fuck, i didn't want you to see me cry," you sniffle, wiping your eyes aggressively. 

he let the alcohol completely steer him away from his initial goal, and that was to speak to you like connie had got on his ass about. not make you upset. he doesn’t understand why he keeps breaking his promise to stop hurting you. 

“i'm horrible when it comes to making any commitments. that, you were right about before,” he states, your eyes drawing back to his. "it wasn't fair of me to invalidate your feelings all those times. i knew you wanted to be with me, i just couldn't bring myself to be honest about what i wanted. more so, i didn't know what i wanted at the time. but being disconnected from you, my best friend . . it hurt my fucking soul."

the oversized varsity jacket clinging to your body brings you comfort, wrapping it tighter around yourself out of anxiousness. the scent of onyankopon’s cologne on the fabric brings you even more sadness. you feel bad for what happened, needing to find him to apologize when you get the chance. 

"i have so, so many regrets when it comes to you. so much time wasted, things that could've been avoided had i been mature and upfront. expecting you to be available to me because of our relationship was wrong of me. using you was wrong of me. leading you on, pushing you away, fucking with other girls when you were right here . . it was selfish of me, and i'm a dick for it all, i admit that. and i want nothing more than to apologize and make up for all i've done. you didn't fucking deserve that." 

suddenly, he's holding your face in his hands as you weep, both of you unsure of when you broke the distance between you two. "please, please don't cry baby. i'm so sorry." 

words could only mean so much. you weren't sold yet. if he wants you for real, he's going to have to make a better offer than just words. false promises were a learned matter with him. he needed to prove how much you mean to him. 

"i'll do everything in my power to make sure that i am the man you deserve," he whispers, his hold on your face beginning to tighten as you pull him closer by his shirt out of habit. "promise i'll treat you right. i'll never make you feel like you're someone to fix me when i'm going through shit or i'm horny. i'll never make you feel like you have to compete with other women again. i'll never take you for granted again." 

his face is now inches away from yours. his voice, his scent, the warmth he brings, it makes you feel so vulnerable. . . so safe. like that invisible string never broke. eren screaming with hope within, praying you reply. it feels so good to feel your body pressed against his, the scent of your conditioner wafting into his nostrils. he hugs you tightly, afraid that he'll lose you. he's been craving this for so long. 

"i missed this. i missed you," he murmurs between your neck, his grasp becoming a little tighter. you feel his chest slowly rising and falling as a soft sigh escapes his lungs. as the silence continues to grow between the two of you, it's becoming harder for you to find the words you want to say to him. 

"say what you want to say," it's like he read your mind, swallowing deeply before pulling your face back to eye level. he looks down at you. 

"i can’t accept your apology." 

eren slowly pulls away from you, a frown on his face and heartache yanking at his chest. it’s his karma, he knew that well. there was no reason to push you into something you no longer wished for. you’d made up your mind, and he just had to live with that. in the future, possibly learning from his mistake. he swallows, nodding as he backs away, accepting your answer indefinitely. 

“if that’s how you truly feel, then i will respect your boundaries. i’m truly sorry, again. i hate to leave things behind on a bad note, so i wanna tell you that i pray you find the love you deserve, and that i wish you nothing but the best.” 

a final touch of his lips lands on your cheek. eren’s giving you one last smile before turning to walk away. a broken weep cracks from you, lower lip trembling as you hug yourself tightly like he had only seconds ago. he’s halfway gone before you watch him pause, eyes unable to bring them from his figure. you felt like you’d lose the memory of him if you didn’t look. this felt like a horrible breakup neither one of you wanted to end. 

eren’s caught reaching into his jean pocket, pulling out his wallet before he approached you once more, the sadness on your face making this worse for him. “i almost forgot.” 

out of nowhere, eren grabs your hand, opening your palm and placing a cold object into it. you stare confusingly, leveling your palm towards your face to see a sterling silver necklace. it’s a simple piece of jewelry with a single initial. the letter ‘e’. 

"i’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. i carried it with me every day,” he smiles warmly. 

a mix of surprise and shock washes over you, your brown eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights, or a girlfriend being proposed to. you stare at the necklace in your palm, feeling the featherweight of it, the cool metal against your skin. memories flood your mind — all those times you shared laughing together, graduating high school, sneaking out to see each other, sharing secrets, dreams, and hopes. this symbol represents all of that, and yet, it also reminds you of the pain, the betrayal, the shattered trust. your gaze flickers up to meet eren's, seeing the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw emotion. part of you still loves him, still wants to believe in him, in your relationship. but the other part is screaming at you to protect yourself, to move on, to forget. 

"e as in eren," you gasp, lip still trembling. 

"well, yea," he laughs softly. it’s a tangible connection to you, even if things have changed. eren watches your reaction closely, hoping against hope that seeing the necklace might change your mind about him. he swallows hard, his throat tight with emotion. "i was planning on giving it to you when the time was right, even though i wasn’t exactly sure when that would be. i know it's not much, but . . i thought maybe you could keep it as a reminder of our friendship. of everything we shared."

he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. "please, ꒰♡꒱,” he whispers, his voice cracking. "don’t throw it away. keep it close to your heart, and remember that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens between us."

you notice how close he is to you, and you feel a small amount of nervousness start to set in again. but, you don’t let it show in your expressions, focusing instead on trying to hold yourself together. this was a lot. you’ll always cherish the memories you have together, but, was this really goodbye? did you want him to completely disappear from your life? he’s someone who’s been apart of it for so long. you couldn’t imagine life without him. three months was hard enough, even the two before that. you didn’t want him to be a stranger. you didn’t want him to never speak to you again. you didn’t want to sever your relationship entirely — your connection. 

“i love you, ꒰♡꒱. i really mean that.” 

before he gets the chance to touch you one last time, you're leaning in first, lifting yourself by your tiptoes to press your lips into his. his nose smushed against yours, inhaling sharply as he grabbed your throat, kissing you deeper. as always, you melt into his touch like putty, your entire body bursting with fire when his fingertips brush against your hips under your jersey, pulling you into him harder than he intended. scared to let you go. eren grunts into your mouth when you moan into him, gliding his tongue across yours salaciously, his back arched to bend to your level. another hand huge on the side of your face while he kisses you passionately, turning his head slightly to the side while maintaining his clutch around your throat. 

eren gasps into the kiss, the sudden surge of warmth flooding his senses. his mind goes blank as he loses himself in the sensation of your lips against his, your taste filling his mouth. the hand on your hip tightens instinctively, drawing you closer until there's no space left between you. the unexpected kiss throws him off balance, but he doesn't care. all he knows is that he's lost in the moment, the tension between you both finally breaking. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours.

“fuck, i love you,” he repeats again, now applying pressure to your ass he squeezes and lifts, his bulge hitting your stomach. it makes your gut flip when he bites your lip, your hands unknowingly trailing up his abdomen, the bumpy path of his abs giving you flashbacks. 

now, he’s kissing along your jawline, down your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your collarbone. his hands are everywhere, roving over your body, caressing and gripping like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against him. his lips move up to your ear where his breath tickles you, your inner thighs locking tight. he murmurs softly into your ear, “i want you . . need you so badly. can i?” 

he sounds slightly breathless, his need for you obvious in his low tone. “can i touch you . . please?” 

“where’s your car?” 

there’s a pause as he registers your question, his mind slightly clouded from the feeling of you against him. “down the street, why?” 

“take me.” 

“you sure?” he asks. even though the desire for you is written all over his face, there’s a hint of hesitation and question in his tone. he needs to be sure this is something you truly want, even if your body speaks before you do. 

“yeah, i’m sure.” 

he takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and leads you down the hill to where his car is parked. you’re not sure what time it is, but the streets are nearly empty, only a few people roaming around drinking and smoking, the party is still very much still happening. tucking your hand into your pocket, you drop the necklace safely there, feeling protected and giddy as you trail behind him. his frame is so much bigger than yours, staring at the back of his head where he had his hair half tied up, wanting to bury your face into his back to smell him. you spot his black r34 gtr and within seconds you’re standing in front of it, almost as if you teleported. he must’ve been walking really fast. 

he releases your hand to dig for his keys, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side to adjust the seat fully up and make enough room for you both. you’re more at ease knowing his windows were tinted, illegally the blackest of black. with each inhale, he can feel the intensity of the situation starting to build up once again, raising his body only to have you push into him, his body leaning against his car as you squish your lips back into his, growing impatient. 

"wait. ." he paused in between kisses, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable as he hissed into your mouth. "backseat, now." 

his eyes are trained on your ass as he watches you duck low and climb in the back, practically shoving you inside as he looks over his shoulder before following behind not a moment later. the space is snug, his broad body compared to your own not making the best room, but he’ll make it work. eren pushes you down onto the backseat, covering your body with his own as he resumes kissing you, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your tits. the way the two of you kiss is feverish, open-mouthed with heavy pants of desperation. the way you equally missed each other spoke loudly through it. 

“take this shit off, it smells like him,” eren possessively begins to tug at the varsity jacket clinging to you. forgetting you still had it on. 

“sorry.” 

he tosses it to the front once it’s off, clutching your throat and tugging at your denim shorts with his unoccupied hand. you understand silently, unzipping them and lifting yourself in an awkward way to remove them along with your pale pink new balances. eren has one knee digging into the seat while he balances himself above you by holding the driver's seat headrest, the other foot flat on the floor as he watches you like you’re prey. 

“you’re so damn pretty, baby. miss you,” his hands go to smooth over your inner thighs up to your knees, your shirt rising to your midsection. 

"mhm, show me how much you missed me," you spread your thighs, pink lace thong swallowing your curves, giving him the obvious hint while balancing yourself on your elbows. 

eren’s mouth waters at the sight, your pussy already leaking for him, the material swallowing you up real good. he mutters ‘fuck’ under his breath, wetting his lips and pushing your knees to your chest, cuffing a finger into the band to pull to the side, groaning at the sight of your bare skin, glistening in your slick with your clit hiding between your lips. he knows he just needs to spread them to see her fully, his favorite part. the soft texture of his tongue carefully begins to graze against your skin, sucking and taking in the smell of your body. a surprised squeak escapes your throat as you feel his finger press against your tight entrance.

"no fingers," his dick jumps from the command, moaning as he spanks the outside of your thigh gently while running his tongue over his bottom lip. "just your tongue." 

“y’not gonna let me feel her?” eren coed teasingly, whimpering when he smacks you again while leaving a sloppy kiss onto the mound of your pussy. “stretch her out f’this dick?”

you crack a grin, back resting on the door while you scoot your ass further down to grind onto his face. “not yet.” 

the sudden sensation of your hands in his hair only fuels eren’s arousal further once you draw him closer, growing needy. his thick tongue slithers out his mouth, pooling with salvia as it laps at your clit with renewed vigor, the taste you leave on his tongue sweet and tangy — intoxicating, driving him wild with lust. it’s so damn good he can’t help but spank the outside of your thigh near your ass, the vibration going straight to your clit and it’s almost like he can feel it when it hits you. moaning into your pussy he gives sloppy kisses while your thighs shake. 

“mmm, yesss," you moan in approval, needing him to do it again. until you're bruised. 

his face heats up from the noises you make, a reddish tint on his cheekbones as he shifts his jaw to suck your clit into his mouth, slick dousing his chin as he pulls your puffy clit between his lips to tug and release. 

"keep going," you arch into him. eren smacks you again, a little harder, and a broken, high pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name. 

with a final swipe of his tongue, he feels your body shudder and convulse around him. your cries fill the air as you cum hard, coating his face with your essence. he laps it up greedily, humming and savoring every drop. you didn’t expect to cum that quickly, face heating up from shyness as you cover your face and whine. eren chuckles into your pussy, spluttering as he detaches his lips and buries his face within the curve of your hip bone, unable to stop himself from laughing. it’s silly because this is the second time this has happened. the first being when he ate you out on the hood of his car after getting tipsy during game night. feeling like the alcohol influenced it, but he knows you didn’t drink tonight since he kept an eye on you. 

“shut uppp!”

“that literally took a minute!” he’s clutching his stomach now. 

“you know i’m sensitive,” you pout, popping him on the arm. “make me cum again. unless you can’t.” 

“mhm,” eren nods his head cockily, shocking you when he spanks your clit, scarily switching from playful to dominant. “don’t say that shit when you know it’s wrong.”

eren takes a seat on the opposite side, pulling you to sit on your knees, leaning over him as his eyes lock onto yours filled with a primal hunger. your palming at his thighs still covered in dark jeans, using it to balance your weight as eren stretches his left arm behind you to rub your clit with his fingers, collecting your arousal before sinking his pointer and middle into you. he quickened his pace, pumping his hand faster as he fingers your soppy cunt.

the combination of his hand movements and the sensation of your warm breath on his face sends him spiraling. "fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with effort. “can’t wait to have this pussy on me.” 

“eren, touch yourself,” you whine, petting at the shape in his jeans, undoing his button and dragging down his zipper. 

eren keens almost submissively, lifting his hips so you can push his jeans down to his knees, eren releasing his hard dick that throbs excessively in his hold. it’s big and pretty, just like you remembered. a dick you’ll never forget for sure. the curve of it makes it touch his stomach, eren rushing his thumb over the tip, wincing from sensitivity and stroking it vertically away from him. 

"let me spit on it," you chew at your lips, rocking your ass back into his hand, every touch making you feral, inner thighs soaked. 

eren nods with lidded eyes, his breath hitching as he waits for your saliva to coat his slickened fingers. the thought of your spit adding another layer of lubrication to his dick makes him even hotter. gathering your salvia on your tongue, you purse your lips together before spitting onto his dick, a cute ‘puh’ emitting as the two of you watch it trail onto his ring covered fingers, eren groaning and twisting his wrist to spread it along his length. 

“just like that," he encourages, his voice barely above a whisper. "stroke your hand over it, baby. c’mon.” 

you moan, wrapping your hand over it, piled on top of his own. you suck your lips inwardly, face curled up same as his as the two of you beat his dick, the squelching from both your hands and his fingers in your pussy making you equally dizzy. he hisses while keeping his eyes on your face, just looking at you enough to bring him over the edge.

"more?” you ask, the trail of spit already falling from your mouth before he can respond, eren momentarily removing his hand, dick jumping from the reaction as you fist his dick before he does. his overlapping yours this time. 

eren’s response is a strangled cry as he feels the pressure building to a crescendo. your skilled hand working in tandem with his own is too much for him to resist. "yes, fuck yeah," he grits out, his body tensing as he prepares to explode. 

"tell me you love me,” you kiss him softly, your tongue exploring his mouth, tasting him. 

"f-fuckin' love you, mamas," obediently, eren guides your stroking hand over his near-spent cock, growing sensitive from the erotic intensity. each gentle, wet stroke sends aftershocks rippling through his core, leaving him shuddering and panting.

"one more time, baby.”

"love you, nngh, love you.”

"i love you too." 

laying your head on his thigh, he continues to fuck you with his fingers, the squelch of your pussy bouncing off the car windows, continuing their relentless assault. the lewd sounds of your arousal draw him closer to his climax. he can feel your body responding to his touch, your juices coating his digits as he plunges them deeper inside you. with a final, needy thrust of his hips, he unleashes a torrent of cum, coating your joined hands in his hot release.

"that’s it," he whispers huskily, his voice raw with satisfaction. you bring his dick to your face, sticking your tongue out and enclosing your lips around him as you jerk him into your mouth. sucking him off. "ooh, fuck, like that. keep touching me." 

“eren . .  baby, your fingers are s’long,” a shudder forms, squealing and rocking your ass back harder to meet the quickened pace of him fucking you open. he’s pushing you to the brink.

"think you can cream on ‘em?” he teases, his voice husky with desire. he’s using both hands now, the other hitting your ass hard in repetitions, refusing to stop, the action echoing in the small space. "can you? i wanna see you do it. gimme sum to lick up.” 

"f-fuck, y-yess. i can give it to you,” you arch your back. “oh my god.” 

encouraged by your eager response, eren doubles his efforts, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot that makes your muscles clench and a pornographic shout break loose, eren drawing out a ‘yeaaa, baby’, fucking you faster, unoccupied fingers sprawled along your plump ass. his voice fucking with you all over again. 

“mmm. just cum on ‘em. wanna feel it again,” eren’s grip on your hip tightens as he feels your body tense, grinding his palm against your puffy clit.

your sobs are rewarding, your ass burning from his impacts and you give him what he wants like he asked. creaming over his fingers as you cum for the second time, your tummy caving in as you drool on his leg and prolong a whine. body shaking violently with your legs.  

"goddamn. good girl. good girl. you’re so fucking tight," he groans, tasting you off his fingers before going under your stomach to thumb circles on your swollen clit in rhythm with more thrusts. the friction against your clit causes you to scream again, lifting your upper body to distract him by kissing his neck, his ultimate weakness.  

“ooh, you bad girl,” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps. your tongue slicks across his throat before leaving hot kisses, climbing onto his lap by balancing your body on your toes, clutching his shoulders for support as you squat above him. 

eren knows your intention and follows suit, sliding his back down the seat and spreading his legs further apart. reaching behind himself, he leans slightly forward to pull off his hoodie from his backside, his hair getting fuzzy in the process until you smooth it back in place. eren’s hands slide underneath your hot thighs, hooks his arms under your knees, and spread your legs wider apart to accommodate the thickness of his dick as he finally pushes into you.  

“oooh, fuck,” the two of you moan in unison, jaws agape with heavy pants. 

the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the car, a symphony of raw, animalistic passion. and just like that, he surrenders to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. he loses himself in the moment, pace frenzied, focusing solely on how good it feels to be buried deep inside you after so long, trying to milk him for everything he's got. you arch into him, that warm feeling coursing through your heart that you haven’t felt since that night in the closet. that feel of worship. eren spanks you again, a little harder and a broken, high-pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name. 

he steadily lifts you up and down onto his dick as you switch your hips to ride him. the view from below is turning him on — tits bouncing with each movement, your face contorted in pleasure. he raises his hips to meet your downward motion with equal force, driving himself to the depth with each bounce. skin slapping mingling with your moans, pushing you down with the fingers sprawled across your backside, pussy swallowing all of him. 

“you’re doing so well, baby," he praises, his voice a soothing murmur. "just breathe through it." as he inches farther, he captures your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the embrace.

"bite me, please,” you whimper desperately, knocking your head back to expose your neck. "need it."

eren’s eyes gleam with wicked intent, not hesitating to bite into you, knowing how much you have a kink for it. you shriek when his teeth sink into your soft flesh, the steady pressure of them is a mind fuck. the bite is firm yet gentle enough not to hurt you. the sharp pain quickly being replaced by an intoxicating rush of pleasure, sending jolts of arousal coursing through your veins. his tongue laves at the spot after letting go, soothing it with languid strokes while his other hand roams over your body, tracing patterns across your curves. 

"you are mine," he swats your ass, pounding faster. "you will always be mine. and you will never run from that." 

you shake your head drunkenly, pupils rolling white, lashes fluttering. "won't run, promise rennie!” 

"you belong to me,” he says once more, wanting you to repeat. eren’s words are punctuated by another slap of his hand, and by this point you’re sure you’re bruised, each strike a claim of ownership. your knees buckle beneath you, but he holds you up, his strong arms locked around you like a demon in heat. 

"i belong to you, baby.”

he increases the speed and intensity of his movements, driving you towards the precipice of ecstasy. you're dripping wet and moaning, your slick coating his cock as he pounds into you. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck while he slams you down. eren’s hands roam over your curves, spreading your cheeks apart as he pulls you down onto his dick with fervor. each thrust is deeper, harder, driven by a primal urge to claim you utterly.

“fuck, mng. g’na . . cum,” you blubber, biting your bottom lip as he pounds into you. 

“look at me, i wanna see your face when i make you cum,” he orders, his voice raw with desire. 

giving him your attention, you struggle to fully keep them open, every vigorous yank and thrust coaxing that bubbly feeling in your gut. he can feel your walls tightening around him, signaling your impending orgasm. "that’s it, baby," he coos, nibbling on your earlobe. "give it to me. gimme that shit. lemme feel it.”

he shifts his position slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot within you that makes your toes curl and your walls clench even tighter around him. the new angle allows him to hit even harder, stroking along your inner walls with each upward thrust.

"take. it. all. baby," he growls between pauses, his breath hot against your ear. when you finally topple over the edge, he swallows your cries with a searing kiss, his own body trembling with unspent need. 

"꒰♡꒱ . . fuck," eren pants, his forehead pressed against yours as he loses himself in the rhythm of your joining, stilling his trembling hips and cumming inside of you, having no strength to pull out. he knows you’re on birth control so he didn’t have to worry.

"oh my fuckin' god," the delicious shiver coursing through your body felt like the ultimate high. brushing your fingers through the strands of his brown hair that had long fallen from it's hair tie. he leans into your soothing ministrations, savoring the intimate connection between you as he slowly comes back down to earth.

you sit like this for a while, eren going soft and lifting you off of him to properly sit you on his lap after dressing himself and you. your legs rest over his while he presses his forehead to yours, still trying to regain his energy.

“oh, i forgot,” you opened your eyes after intimate slow breathing, reaching to the front to search for onyankopon's jacket. you dig into the pocket to retrieve the necklace he’d given you. “put it on me?” 

“of course,” taking the necklace from your hand, he brushed your hair from your shoulders and carefully fastened it around your neck. "you look beautiful," he whispered, his voice tinged with genuine affection.

“thank you,” you smile sweetly, playing with the jewelry. “i love it.” 

“i always knew you would.” 

silence overtakes you for a moment, sitting on your thoughts unwarranted. too much happened today, and your brain was swarming with panic trying to figure out what right move to make. you were tired of overthinking. you just wanted to live in the moment. consequences will come later. what's meant to be will be.

“promise you’ll keep your word this time. no more fights, no more misunderstandings, or playing with my heart. i don’t think i can take another heartbreak. i’ll die.”

sincere contrition casts eren’s expression from your words, gnawing at him all over. eren pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. despite the weight of what's happened between you, despite the pain and hurt, there's an unspoken understanding that you're both willing to move past it.

"i swear on my life i’ll never hurt you like that again. i know i’ve got a lot to make up for, but you mean everything to me,” he murmurs, nuzzling your neck gently. "i love you too much. i’m never taking that for granted.” 

tears well up in your eyes as you stare at eren, searching for any sign of deception. but all you see is sincerity, a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. you nod slowly, trying to hold back the flood of tears.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “i forgive you.” 

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[marauder-misprint]

hi! can you do something with the marauders preferably sirius or james where the reader has constantly been like kind of invisible her whole life and spoken over and in the end has just stopped speaking up much ? thankyou <33 ( no pressure though! )

Hi! Thank you for this request ❤︎ Not sure how I feel about the quality of this. I definitely feel like it's not James enough, but it is what it is. Or maybe it's the lack of interactions with the rest of the Marauders that has me feeling like this? Idk. (It also might be because I'm not a huge James writer? Who knows?)

ANYWAYS! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Potions partner

James Potter x reader

4.6k words

cw: fluff, yapper!James

You’re not sure which is more peculiar: the story you’re telling or the fact that multiple people are listening to you tell it. 

It had happened during Care of Magical Creatures class that morning. Professor Kettleburn was trying to settle an aggravated Thestral and was failing horribly to the point where he dismissed class urgently. You were one of the few students who could actually see the beast so your retelling of the event was more descriptive than the rest of the class’. 

But what wasn’t peculiar was when a boy sat down a few seats away from you with complaints about the latest Transfiguration essay and all the attention that had been on you and your story moved on. Was the Thestral more interesting? Yes. But you were you, a background character in your own life. People didn’t pay attention to you if there was something else going on.  

You sigh and turn your attention to the food on your plate. You’ve barely touched it since you were talking for once. Now that attention has left you like it always does, you’re able to eat. It had been nice to feel heard, even if just for a few minutes. You never did hold people’s attention for long. You were just something to fill the background, nothing special to see. And often you weren’t seen. There were too many times for you to count when someone brushes past you, accidentally knocking you to the ground and they barely give you “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” 

In short, you weren’t seen and you weren’t heard. 

It wasn’t just your classmates either. It seemed like once a week, a professor would scan the classroom as they marked who was in attendance and they’d ask if you were there. You always were. You’d raise your hand and wave it around. Sometimes, even with that, they’d miss you until your friend spoke up and said that, yes, you were, in fact, in class. You weren’t sure how the professors managed to skip over you so much, but they did. Maybe it was because you weren’t an extreme. Your grades weren’t horrible enough to be of concern, nor were they exceptional enough to be used as examples and to earn house points. 

That afternoon in Potions, one of your least favorite things happened. Professor Slughorn announced a partnered-project.

“If everyone could get into pairs please! We will be working on brewing Felix Felicis and there will be various assignments with this. Pick someone you will be able to focus with. Yes, this means that Potter and Black cannot be partners.”

A pair of groans erupt from the back of the room. 

“I got dibs on Moony,” Sirius says.

James groans again, scanning the room. Lily had picked Mary. Marlene and Peter didn’t continue with Potions in N.E.W.T. level. People got into pairs quickly. You had immediately turned toward Emmeline. She was usually kind to you, but she paired with Benjy Fenwick. Your options dwindled fast. 

“Alright, anyone without a partner?” Slughorn asks the class as the room began to settle down. 

You and James both raise your hands. 

“Alright, you two are paired then. Here is the first assignment…”

You glance at James and cringe internally. Loud, boisterous James was your partner for the foreseeable future. Slughorn hadn’t given a timeframe for how long these assignments would be. You try to listen to everything that he’s saying about the first assignment, but it’s difficult when you’re dreading the assignment before it’s even really begun. 

After class ends, you approach James.

“Erm, I’ll do the essay if you want to do the first part of the potion?” you offer, hugging your books tight to your chest. 

“Huh? Oh, for the project. The essay’s long, don’t you want to work together on it?” James replies.

“I don’t-” you start to say.

Sirius interrupts you. “Mate, the girl’s just offered you the easy way out of the project. Take it and run.” 

You press your lips into a thin line, nod and walk away. Sirius got it. You’d split the project into separate pieces as much as you could. Plus, did Mr. Popular really want to be seen with someone as quiet and invisible as you? You didn’t think so. As you made your way to your next class, you assumed that was the end of the conversation. 

It wasn’t.

James finds you in the library after dinner. He’s slightly out of breath as he places his things on the table.

“You’re a hard one to find,” he says, taking a seat across from you.

You don’t say anything. In fact, you barely spare him a glance. 

“I wanted to talk to you about the Potions project,” he continues as he takes out homework for a different class. “It’s a multiple part project. It’s very interconnected, not something we can split down the middle and work on separately.”

He stops talking and waits for you to respond. You still don’t look up. You just work on your Herbology assignment.

“You… you are my partner for Potions, right?” he asks, running a hand through already-messy hair. “That’d be embarrassing if I just sat down across from the wrong girl…”

“We’re partners,” you whisper, more to your parchment than James.

“Great. So I’m at the right table! Like I was saying, you can’t do the entire essay and have me do all the brewing. I mean, we can do that. Like you write and I actually brew, which is fine. But we have to meet up to work on it, you know? Can’t do one part without the other.” 

“I prefer to work alone,” you say. “So take my offer or do it all by yourself.”

James’ eyes narrow. 

“That’s not how partner projects work.”

You raise your eyes to meet his for the first time since he sat down. Pretty. You sigh and look back at your assignment. You have work to get done. You hope that James will get the message, accept your terms and leave you alone. Instead, he starts to work on an essay for Astronomy.

“Do you study at this table often?” he asks nonchalantly. 

“Mhmm,” you hum. 

Part of you wants to ask why he’s asking. What’s it to him that you work at that table practically like clockwork? 

“This a daily thing or weekly? Every other day? Multiple times a day?” 

“Whenever I have assignments,” you answer, although it's a very non-answer. When didn’t you have homework as a sixth year? 

Every teacher assigned endless work to prepare you for the incoming exams. You were to be prepared and the way to prepare you was to assign work. 

“So you’re here every second of every day, got it,” James says cheekily. 

A quick glance at him reveals a smirk playing on his lips. Despite his quill hovering about parchment, he’s watching you, scanning your face for some kind of reaction. Something more than the quiet, short answers you’ve responded with so far. It’s a change of pace for James. Everyone wants to talk to him. He can talk with anyone about anything. It’s a gift that he and Sirius share. You, on the other hand, aren’t talking and it’s strange to James. Even Lily talks more when she’s shooting down his advances. 

“Do you need help with that for Sprout?” James offers, confident that he can get you to talk more. “I finished it over lunch.”

You shake your head. James frowns, having been hoping for a verbal answer. He gives up trying to get you to talk for the evening, although he doesn’t leave your table. The two of you work in tandem for a few hours. James is far more uncomfortable with the silence between you than you are. It’s something you’re used to, and even if James had decided to ramble on about something, you would’ve managed to get the same amount of work done. James was used to noise around him, even in the library. With friends like his, quiet work time didn’t exist. 

The next day James tries to say hi to you during the few classes that you share. You offer a small smile or a quiet ‘hello’ in response. You never stop and talk to him beyond that, which bothers him. You were partners for a project that would inevitably force you to spend some time together. Why didn’t you bother trying to get to know him at all? 

“That’s your Potions partner, right?” Sirius asks as you walk away from them for the fourth time. “The one you got stuck with?”

“Yeah. Clearly doesn’t talk much,” James answers, watching you go and wordlessly sit down next to a Hufflepuff. He runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly.

“Maybe she just doesn’t know you? Or like you,” Peter says.

“What do you mean, Wormtail?” James asks. 

“You’re not friends with everyone and some people don’t talk to people they don’t like.” Peter said it like it should’ve been common sense. 

“But how can she not like me if she doesn’t know me? Won’t even try to know me? I sat with her for hours last night and I got maybe five sentences out of her!”

“You were in the library,” Remus snorts. “Some people respect the library’s quiet.”

“I know how to whisper!” 

The other three boys burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. James Potter whispering was more akin to a stage whisper. So, not a whisper. He was a loud person. 

Then after dinner, James sits across from you in the library again. 

“Same table. Easier to find,” he says as he takes out his homework. 

Just like yesterday, you don’t respond. You don’t look up. You just continue working. James, however, is more intent on getting you to talk. He tries to think of something that might get your attention. It’s more difficult than he originally imagined. He didn’t know you. “What’s today’s assignment?” 

“Care of Magical Creatures,” you say, voice barely qualifying as a whisper. 

That got James’ attention more than it should have.

“Were you in class with the rampant Thestral? I heard it was crazy. Can’t imagine dealing with a creature you can’t see!” he asks.

“Professor Kettleburn provoked it. He pulled its wing. It looked overstretched,” you say with certainty. 

Looked.

“Looked?” 

You nod, flipping the page of the book you have open in front of you.

“You can see them? I thought you could only see them if-”

“If you’ve seen death,” you interrupt James. 

He’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You’ve seen death?” James asks. 

He’s certain that he won’t get any work done. Not when you can see Thestrals.

You nod, again. Yesterday you were thrilled to have people’s attention as you recounted the beast mauling Kettleburn with its hooves. Today, you want to get your assignment done so you can return to your dorm. You aren’t sure why James is so curious about it, or why he keeps talking to you. No one ever sits at your table two days in a row.

After you don’t speak, James lets the conversation, if you can call it that, die. He figures that you don’t want to talk about who you’ve seen die. Maybe it was someone close to you. Maybe it was recent and hurt too much to talk about. He tries to focus on his work, but he was right in his assumption that he wouldn’t get work done. Even if you weren’t talking, James found you fascinating. His eyes keep drifting up to watch you work. 

He breaks the silence after a while. “Can we work on that Potions essay tomorrow? I’m fine with brewing the potion, but we’ll work on the essay together.” 

You sigh yet you nod all the same. 

“Great!” 

And with that, James leaves you alone. 

The next day feels the same as the last. James says hi to you whenever he sees you, earning the same responses from you. There’s something nice about him taking the time to say  hi to you when most of your classmates barely acknowledge your existence. Still, he’s only your partner in Potions and he didn’t choose to be your partner. It just happened because Slughorn said he couldn’t be with Sirius. 

When James finds you in the library after dinner at your usual table, he’s lugging his cauldron with him. You stare as he sets it up next to the table, taking out a small collection of ingredients.

“Bit rough getting this past Madam Pince,” he tells you, seeing that he managed to catch your attention for once. “But I figured, if we’re working on the essay right now, might as well work on the potion too, right?” 

You open your mouth as if to speak but nothing comes out. You gape like a fish out of water. 

“You do have your Potions stuff with you, yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah… I do…” 

You move your unfinished Care of Magical Creatures assignment off to the side. You’d work on it more after James left. Or at least, whenever he was done insisting on this ‘working together’ thing. 

“Right, so Slughorn wants the first portion of Felix. And the essay is on the…” James says while looking over his scribbled notes.

“Essay is on the ingredients’ effect on the coloring. Pretty self-explanatory if you ask me,” you finish for him.

“How do you mean?” 

You try not to laugh at James. 

“Please, occamy and ashwinder eggs? Common rue? Shiny, shiny, yellow. It’s basic color theory.” 

“Huh,” is all James says for a moment. Then he follows with, “That’s why you offered to do all the writing, isn’t it!” 

“More like I thought you wouldn’t be bothered to work with me.” 

James gasps, putting his hand over his heart like you brutally offended him. “Ouch, sweetheart!” 

“Just get to brewing, Potter.”

And that’s the last that you spoke that evening. You worked intently on the essay as James brewed the potion. For some time, the sound between you was the crackling of the fire under James’ cauldron. But then he started talking. At first it was about the potion. He told you about everything he did and the immediate effects, every change of color and consistency. You didn’t need the commentary, although you used it to ensure that James was doing everything correctly. His descriptions matched what you had written. 

Then he reached the point where the potion needed to simmer, James started talking about quidditch. You humor him for a while, listening to him ramble about what you easily assume is his favorite topic. He talked about more than just the Gryffindor team. He talked about the different tactics he’d seen the other houses use this year and how well they executed them, how they compared to the professional teams and how each of those teams were doing this year. Then he went on a tangent about the new rules and regulations that were passed recently and how they affected the game. He went on for a while.

“Do you want to read this or not?” you ask with some snap to your voice. 

You slid the finished essay across the table toward James. You had written the entire thing as he brewed, only a testament to why you thought that partner part of the project was pointless. But if he wanted to ‘work together,’ you figure the least you could do was have him look over your work. 

“Oh, yes! Let me see,” he mumbles as he takes the parchment from you. 

You resume work on your Magical Creatures assignment. It takes James a few minutes to look over the whole thing. You had put a little extra effort into writing it since it was going to be James’ grade as well. It was one thing if your own work was subpar but when someone else got brought into the equation, you tried a little harder.

“This is great. You really did the whole thing while I brewed?”

You nod.

“You’re fantastic!” You feel a heat creep up your neck at the compliment. It was just an essay.

“Okay, so we have the potion and the essay for the first deadline! Great! I’ll clean up and get out of your hair. But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he asks, a wide smile on his face.

You nod again.

Over the next week, James continues to meet up with you in the library. He’s grateful that you never change tables. That at least means you don’t mind too much that he’s joining you. With each day, he tries to get you to talk. He tries topic after topic, hoping to come across one that you wouldn’t mind opening up a bit for. What James doesn’t know is that you’ve trained yourself to limit your responses. Even if someone asked about your deepest interest, you’d barely let on that you knew everything about it. 

Then, just as you’re getting used to James constantly being at your table, he says something that throws you off.

“I won’t be here tomorrow.”

You want to respond with “Okay?” He wasn’t required to do homework for you after dinner every day. He wasn’t obligated to sit at your table. You still didn’t even really consider him your friend.

“We got the quidditch pitch reserved for a last minute practice before Saturday’s match,” he says, pausing to watch your face with curiosity. If there was a change in your expression, he’d see it. There was no change. “You’re coming to the match on Saturday, right?”

There was hope in his voice. Like he really wanted to make sure that you’d be in the stands for the game. Almost like he wanted to know if you’d be watching him, and just maybe, cheering for him. 

You blink your eyes slowly.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“Oh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Depends on how much work I get done, I guess.”

“Stay hard at work then, will you? I’d like you to be there. Heard it’s going to be a good match,” he says, his grin audible in his voice. 

It makes you look up at him rather than at the parchment in front of you. 

“Heard it’s going to be good?” you repeat back to him. “Wouldn’t you say that about every match you’re in?”

“I mean, yeah, but Saturday’s especially.” 

“We’ll see, Potter.”

“You’ll only see if you go.”

You flex your eyebrows and turn back to your assignment. James smiles to himself as he begins to work again too. Something about your demeanor made him think that you would show up. He wasn’t really sure why he cared if you did, but there was something about you. He had grown to like the quiet air that you maintained. He didn’t mind that you didn’t talk much, despite his desperate attempts to get you to talk. You kind of reminded him of Remus during first year, if he was being honest. And that means that you had the promise of becoming a very dear friend. 

You would be lying if you didn’t work extra hard the next evening while James was at practice. You didn’t promise anything but you felt that you owed it to James to at least try to be at a point where you could justify going to the match. You went to a handful of them. You could follow along enough with the game, not that it mattered. Balls were tossed around, some were hit and there was a super small one that only two players tried to catch. That’s about all you needed to know. 

Still, you don’t know why you felt the need to show up for James. It wasn’t like he would be able to see you in the sea of students. It was one thing to find you in the library. It was another to spot you from a broom while you were surrounded by hundreds of others pressed together and bundled up against the biting wind. You even figured that you could just tell James that you went, without actually going, and he wouldn’t know the difference. 

However, when morning came, you were bundling up. You join the masses heading to the pitch. You listen to the excited chatter about how epic the match is going to be. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin after all, which always made for a good match being the natural rivals that they were. You stood pressed between your friend and one of her closer friends. They cheer louder than you did. You were more focused on trying to keep up with the game as your mind continuously drifts to James. As your mind drifts, so do your eyes. You’re confident that you watched James for at least 90% of the match. Which shouldn’t be too shocking given the amount of times he was in the midst of the action. You swore he had his hands on the quaffle during every play. 

And then something happened that made your heart stop.

You swore James’ eyes found yours and then he flashed you a smile. All before proceeding to score again. Almost as if he was doing it just for you. 

Which was ridiculous. He was just your Potions partner who happened to be studying a lot with you as of recently. 

But still. He found you, in the middle of the crowd, where you should have been as invisible as you always were. 

How? How did he see you? It’s all you could think of for the last few minutes of the game. You were so in your own head that you missed the Gryffindor seeker catching the snitch, ending the game and sealing the win for them. You let your friend drag you out of the stands as students filled the pitch. Except you didn’t follow her into the pitch. You started down the path back towards the castle, but you didn’t make it far. 

The sun was shining brightly and the air wasn’t too frigid once you were hundreds of feet into the air. You veer from the path and find a nice patch of grass to sit down on. Some sunshine wouldn’t hurt. An occasional shadow passed over your face as clouds drifted across the sky. Each shadow was only momentary, a brief chill until it moved on.

Until one shadow didn’t move on. You waited a minute before opening your eyes to see how big this cloud was.

The cloud in question? James Potter. James Potter still in his quidditch uniform and sporting a smile so bright it could rival the sun itself. And he was standing in front of you.

“Potter,” you say shortly. 

“Didn’t see you on the pitch after the match,” he replies, sitting down across from you.

You don’t say anything. What was there to say?

“I was hoping to see you on the pitch. Maybe get a congratulations on the win?” he says with a tilt of his head. 

“You played well.” That was as close to a congratulations as he was going to get from you. 

“Did you see the goal I scored for you?” 

You cough. “For me?” 

“Well, yes. I swore I made eye contact with you before I did it.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Or did I look at a different pretty girl?” 

You swallow thickly. “No, you, erm, that was me.”

“Ah, then yes. For you. My pretty Potions partner.”

If your heart had stopped in the stands, it must’ve turned into stone now. There was no way that James just called you his pretty Potions partner. 

“That’s… ah… that’s alliteration,” you manage to say despite your mouth suddenly becoming drier than the desert. 

James tilts his head curiously. 

“I did want to thank you,” he says. “For coming to the match. I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Because of homework, like you said. But I hoped you’d come.” He pauses for a moment. “Did you like it?”

“The-the match or you scoring… for me?” you ask, the end of your question feeling foreign in your mouth. 

People didn’t score goals for you. That didn’t happen. You were barely noticed. You were spoken over. You were forgotten about because you offered so little to conversation and friendships. 

“Erm, both, I suppose.” 

“The match was entertaining. Definitely a step from Binn’s lectures.” 

James laughs. It was a delightfully warm sound that draws the attention of students headed to the castle. 

“You scoring… for… me…” you continue, the words still feeling odd to you, “was… nice, I guess. Unexpected though.” 

James nods, accepting your commentary. He understands why it came across as unexpected. It wasn’t like he had flirted with you in the library. He hadn’t asked you to Hogsmeade or a picnic or even for a measly walk through the corridors together. 

“I suppose I did this a bit backwards, haven’t I?” he chuckles.

“Did what?” you ask.

“The fact that you have to ask…” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his windswept hair. “I think I want to ask you out.”

Your eyes go wide and a blush tints your cheeks pink. Your heart has been shocked back to life and is working overtime.

“You think?” you ask once you’re able to say words. 

“Okay, well, I do. I want to ask you out. I’m just not sure… if I should? Would you say yes if I did?”

You’re frozen in shock. He wants to ask you out. He grows increasingly nervous when you don’t respond.

“You don’t talk much and you seem to take your studies seriously. You remind me of Remus. You know Remus Lupin, right? Good, good friend of mine. And I think you’re rather pretty. So the combination of both, I want to see if we, you know, work together,” he says all too quickly. “And now I’ve gone and scored a goal for you, which I know most people usually save for after they’ve gone steady with someone or if they’re heavily chatting them up, but you don’t seem like the kind of person to appreciate a proper chatting up so…” He took a sharp breath. “Whatdoyousay?”

You continue to stare at James. It’s a lot. You’re not really sure when he started feeling all of this and you don’t know how to express that. You also don’t know how you managed to catch his eye. 

“Can I, ahem, get a nod or something? You, me, butterbeers next weekend?”

You nod slowly and that brings a brilliant grin to James’ face. 

“And I’ll see you in the library all week, yeah? Can’t be falling behind in our assignments, can we?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Same table.”

“And there’s a party in the Gryffindor Common Room later, if you want to go. I don’t know if that’s your scene or not, but I’ll be there. Wouldn’t mind seeing you there. But only if you’re up to it.”

You nod, but then realize that he might take that as you agreeing that you’ll go to the party. 

“Maybe. I… I need to work on Astronomy but… I’ll consider it.”

His grin gets impossibly wider and he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Then he stands up and holds out a hand to help you up.

“Then let’s get you back to the castle. Can’t work on your Astronomy if you’re out here.” 

You take his hand and let him lead you inside. Something about James inviting you places makes you actually want to show up, even if a Gryffindor quidditch party is completely out of your comfort zone. 

[heaven4lostgirls]

i am in need of angist. I need a good cry rn so what do you think would happen if reader got attacked by fenrir greyback. not to the point of where she becomes a werewolf but like a bill Weasley kind of thing. what would be polymarauders reaction be?

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: request above!

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, the attack and blood. prejudice against werewolves, greyback bc fuck him

word count: 1.6K

author's note: thank you for this request lovely! i had fun writing this, i hope you enjoy it! this is somewhat also remus centric due to the nature of the ask but nevertheless i hope you enjoy it. left some fluff at the end for you too

You wince as another scar on your face knits itself together, a strangled gasp leaving your lips. Regulus stands in front of you, wand in hand as he slowly heals the worst of the scars left after your attack.

His gaze is troubled, and you can still feel the blood he had scourgified off of your skin. Your hand is being held in Lily’s shaking ones, you can tell it’s taking all of her energy to hold herself together for you.

You’re too tired to do anything other than stare blankly at Regulus’ stormy expression as you tune out Lily’s shaking sobs that she attempts to muffle in Mary’s shoulder. You’re  unaware that Regulus is done healing you until he takes a step closer, dropping his arm to his side.

“Do I look that bad?” you joke weakly, and all Regulus does is inhale sharply, “You look beautiful,” he says angrily. You know not to take it personally, he’s angry at the situation.

You, Lily, Mary and Regulus were sent on an Order mission to scope out a potential death eater attack hours prior from when it was intended to occur. Greyback had caught the end of Mary’s robes as she was about to find her stakeout spot.

He had cornered her, alone and in fear, she had dropped her wand. You had been the nearest to her at the time and heard Greyback’s snarling voice as he taunted her.

You didn’t think to call for backup in fear of being too late to save Mary, so you had thrown yourself in front of her as you threw multiple curses in quick  succession. Your failing grace had been a well timed stupefy by Greyback that had you hesitating for a short period in which he had time to attack.

It was horrible, you can barely close your eyes without seeing the looming monster above you, amber eyes illuminated by the darkness of night. You can still feel the agony of his claws slashing into you as his manic grin burns your eyelids.

Mary had been able to escape and intercept Lily and Regulus as they looked for the two of you. According to her she was a mess of tears and snot as she recalled quickly what was happening and that they needed to hurry to help you.

They had found you exactly where Mary had last seen you, mangled and in a pool of your own blood. Regulus had confessed in a plea to keep you conscious as soon as they arrived to base that he had thrown up before coming to his senses to help.

Regulus looks less pale as time passes and you start to show signs of healing such as moving without wincing. You gift him a small smile before the moment is interrupted by a slamming door and three unmistakeable sounds of loud footsteps.

Your boyfriends rush to your bed in haste, before all three stop in their tracks at the sight of your torn clothes and scars littering your skin. You think you hear Remus let out a whimper at the sight but you’re all too consumed by the grief permeating the air.

Exhaustion floods your bones as tears fill your eyes, sobs wracking through your body that have Lily, Mary and Regulus shuffling out of the small room. Remus, Sirius and James hesitate for a moment before clambering clumsily to encompass you from all angles.

You can feel the three of them shaking in sorrow and anger. Your body shakes in their hold before one wince from a badly timed squeeze has the three of them jumping far away from you in fear.

You cower away from them at the sudden movement, closing your eyes and wincing,  before you peak one eye open to see them look at you in varying stages of despair.

“I’m…okay,” you offer hesitantly, eyes shining and pleading with them to believe you. It’s Remus who breaks the silence with a scoff that has both James and Sirius looking at him incredulously.

“Don’t lie to us, not about this,” he says finally, his heart breaking as he watches you cave into yourself. There’s a building insecurity in your chest that you know he’s aware of, all too well.

“Do I look…bad?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Sirius’ smile is wobbly when you look at him and your gaze catch his shaking hands as he shuffles over to the bed to cup your face softly, the same you’ve seen him do to Remus after a full moon.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he offers through a warbled tone. Your eyes shine again as tears line your vision. With a sniff and a quick kiss to his palm you smile at him, loving and trusting just as you did before you had left for the mission.

“Can I hug you?” James voice cuts across the quiet room, he’s shuffling on his feet, wringing his hands as his eyes swim with worry. You know he needs to touch you to fully grasp that you’re okay and not stuck bleeding out in a random alleyway.

You offer him a small smile and a nod as you shuffle to the side of the bed, opening  the covers for him to get in. He wastes no time, clambering towards you in a clumsy haste, tugging you delicately into his arms as a breath of relief leaves him.

“I’m right here.” you murmur into his chest and with a small sniffle he presses a deep kiss into your hair as his arms tighten around you in acknowledgement. You can see out of the corner of your eye, Remus shuffling into Sirius’ awaiting arms.

You lift your head slightly to catch his eyes over Sirius’ shoulder and he clenches his eyes in pain. You know what he’s thinking and before you can think better of it, you sit up slowly with maximum effort and a small wince.

James scrambles to help you as he adjusts himself to lie against the headboard, tugging you again to lie backwards against his chest. His hands rub calming circles on your hips as you breathe deeply through the pain.

Sirius and Remus watch you both in agony. You hold your hand out, eyes locking with Remus’. He looks hesitant but with one sharp look aimed at him, he concedes and shuffles to the sit next to James’s leg, hand holding yours.

With your hands intertwined, you pat your other side for Sirius to sit down, which he does with minimal hesitation, only hesitating before asking he can lay his head in your lap.

You roll your eyes fondly before nodding, he’s gentle in a way he never was before and some part of you aches for the normality you’ve lost.

You lock eyes with Remus before taking a deep breath and murmuring for the three of them to hear, “He didn’t turn me.”

Sirius and James both stiffen but Remus only nods, his gaze guarded. “It’s not a full” he explains for Sirius and James, eyes still locked on yours. “Do you hate me?” you question weakly, and Remus immediately looks horrified as Sirius and James squawk in protests and indignation.

“Hate you? Because you were attacked?!” he asks appalled. You shrug, looking away in shame before he grasps your chin in his palm, tugging your gaze back to his.

“Why would you ever think I would be upset with you for this?” he asks, eyes pleading for you to explain. You want to close your eyes again, let the tears roll down your cheeks again because no part of you wants to have this conversation.

“You’ve never necessarily…liked being a werewolf, which is okay!” you rush out before clenching your eyes shut and looking down again. “I understand you don’t like this part of yourself, that you will never fully understand that James, Sirius and I love you, including your wolf side. I just thought,” You huff out a broken laugh.

“I just thought you’d hate me too for becoming something you hate” you confess, voice cracking as insecurity coats your bitter words.

You hear Remus let out a shaky exhale, looking back at him to see tears trailing over tanned scarred skin. “I didn’t mean to make you cry” you rush out and all he can do is shake his head jerkily before leaning forward to place a deep kiss to your lips.

“There is nothing in this world that could make me stop loving you,” he mumbles into the kiss. James and Sirius echo his sentiment, though the static in your brain seems to  switch off when Remus detaches from you.

“I hate what Greyback did to me, and I will never not be thankful that you do not have to carry this burden, but even if you were turned, that would have never changed the love I hold for you” he says seriously, unflinching and calm as he looks at you.

You laugh a little hoarsely before nodding, squeezing his hand and shuffling deeper into James’ arms as your hands card through Sirius’ curls.

“You do look pretty badass with the scars” Sirius adds through the silence which has James snorting into your hair, murmuring a soft, “subtle.”

“Now you and Moony match, Prongs and I look so boring next to you guys” Sirius continues which has James reaching over to flick his forehead in annoyance.

“Speak for yourself Pads, my muscles are completely badass,” James  smirks and flexes his biceps around you. Sirius scowls looking at him before turning his puppy dog gaze to you with a pout, “Lovie, you think I’m badass don’t you?” he asks with a saccharine grin.

You shrug with a sly look that has Sirius gasping dramatically and huffing in offence. “I’ll have you know if anything I’m the most badass out of all of us” he proclaims.

[bigwishes]

Matching the Inside

"did I ask about side effects?" "no, but I still think you should hear me out"

Aden sat down to get on Nick's level.

"Listen here lil guy, you are the geeky smart guy, I'm the big guy, I asked you to whip me up something to make me the biggest guy and you said you could, now could you or are you fucking stupid and small?"

"Aden I understand but I still think you want to hear about th-"

"DONT CARE! JUST HAND IT OVER"

Nick sighed and handed over the small vial of green fluid over to Aden.

"Is this all?" Aden grunted.

Aden quickly downed the entire vial and flexed his muscles

"So when does this shit make me bigger?"

"s-soon Aden, just gotta wait a few ho-"

"WOULD YOU JUST FUCK OFF PIPSQUEAK!, if this shit fails I swear to god I'll be the fuck outta you then get my cash back"

Nick quickly left Aden to his own devices, he wasn't the best guy to get along with at the best of times and he didn't want to see how toxic Aden was going to become after an hour or so, but it was on him for not wanting to listen to the warnings...

-----

An hour of hard work had gone by and Aden had barely felt anything, sure he had a nasty pump and his skin felt like it was stretching by the second but nothing more than an unusually good day at the gym, however he did find one thing strange.

Aden was no stranger to sweat, but not normally this much, he was used to seeing his ass imprint when he stood up from the bench but not feeling it running down his body, not feeling it squelch in his shoes as he walked.

One of the gym attendants even asked him to please change his shoes as it was leaving huge sweaty imprints as he walked.

Aden sat down on a bench to catch his breath when he smelt something unbearable, it had to be a gym towel that had fallen behind a piece of equipment and left to reek for god knows how long. As Aden looked around for the source he couldn't find anything but when he lifted his arm he was hit by a wave of warm air that made him turn his nose up

the potent order was coming from him, and boy did he fucking reek.

Aden almost gagged on the stench of his own pits and stood up to grab his stuff to head home.

As he stood up his stomach let out a loud gurgling noise. It set in again, this time stronger and painful. Aden grabbed his stomach with both his hands and moaned and his gut continued to complain.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden let out a loud belch that rung out through the entire gym.

"wow, eat too much before the gym big guy haha"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

Aden couldn't control it, before he could even respond he had let rip and belched in the guys face.

Multiple people started to call him a gross pig, and he was in too much discomfort to argue, he could barely get a word in before he burped or belched like a stupid brute.

On his way out he stopped at the mirror, his shoulders looked wider, his biceps fuller, his pecs were stretching out his tank like it was nothing, he couldn't help but admire himself, but the admiration quickly faded when his body automatically cocked open his jaw and forcefully rumbled out another masculine belch.

---

Aden had raced home, doing his best to deal with the horrible stench flowing from his body he imminently got in the shower, scrubbing himself for over and hour until there was no trace of BO left on him,

getting out of the shower he constantly sniffed his pits to make sure he smelt clean and fresh, the stench had seemed to vanish and the odd bloating all but gone, now it was time to see if the formula did anything or if he was going to crush Nick's spine with his own hands.

Aden slipped on his favourite pair of underwear and stood in front of his mirror, to his surprise he did actually look bigger, although barely, he had maybe gained a pound or two of muscle, but something looked wrong....

As Aden glanced down his incredible body he noticed his underwear was much flatter than usual, he tried to adjust himself but it felt like there was barely anything to adjust. As he pulled back the waist band he was horrified to see that his incredibly 10inch manhood and shrunken down into a pitiful 3 inches

"w-WHAT THE FUCK" Aden began to panic, his heart racing

Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and run down his face. As Aden paced around his room he didnt notice all the sweat forming all over his body, that was until the smell set in, when he finally saw himself in the mirror again he was slick from head to toe, droplets of sweat running down him and he stuck, a stench like he had just spent a month working out non stop.

His gut began to grumble once more as the pain set it, this time more intense, like his stomach was being inflated from the inside. Aden moaned and gritted his teeth in pain.

"w..w...what is...happening..tOO MEEE AAGGGHHHUUUUUUU"

Aden watched as his abs turned red and began to expand outwards.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden couldn't help but belch, but it granted him no relief, he watched helplessly as his reflection expanded and grew, sweat dripping off him flooding his floor with a pool of musk and belches escaping him every time he opened his mouth to moan or complain.

-----

A week had gone by since Aden's strange and powerful growth but a lot had changed since then.

In a week he had been banned from almost every gym in town, banned from every restaurant, his car seats had changed colour from the sweat along with every piece of fabric or furniture he owned, on top of which most had broken in some way shape or form.

He couldn't even go to any out door cafe's as he was asked to leave because his terrible BO and constant belches upset the other customers.

Aden had all but ruined his life for muscle and size, still he couldnt help but feel mostly joy when he looked in the mirror, the way his shoulders and traps swallowed his neck, how he couldn't see past his pecs. How only after a week his powerful muscled feet would tear through his shoes. He loved being huge, but he didn't love the side effects.

The belching and stench he had gotten used to but the biggest shock to his system was the hardon he got for guys now, he used to be such a ladies man but now he felt nothing towards women and almost instantly came whenever he saw another bodybuilder flex, but even that he was willing to embrace so long as he could stay this big.

Aden stood in front of his mirror and watched as grey tank slowly turn black as it soaked up his sweat. He picked up a blender from the belch filled with his freshly made shake, he began to guzzle it down like he hadn't eaten in days, the shake spilled out from the sides of his lips, dripped through his beard and onto his tank were it quickly formed prominent stains and marks.

Aden dropped the blender panting for air.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

His eyes glazed over as he looked at the sweating monster in the mirror. He couldn't help but notice the freak he had become,

grown too big, stretch marks all over his body, sweat and protein staining his clothes, BO so bad he could see it, and one hand pressed on his abs trying to force out another belch.

He finally matched what was on the inside

A total fuckin slob

[lustlovehart]

A/n: Recently just watched the Final Destination hexalogy, and oh my gosh all I could think about was Idia!!!!

Summary: You've escaped Death multiple times, despite its endless attempts to finally rid the living of you. What happens when his attempts at killing you turn into attempts to having you all to himself?

Warnings: Possesion, Death, Reader tries killing themself (Not from mental health but because they're testing Idia)

Imagine being a visionary, surviving something that most definitely should’ve killed you. Everyone around you dies horrific deaths, with you being last.

As you fight against death and survive, the months that follow have you fear every step, every surrounding. And the moment you step outside to enjoy what life you have left, you have another one. Except… You’re able to save people once again, the cycle repeating once more.

I happens over and over again, repeating in an endless cycle of saving lives, watching them die in front of you, and you the final survivor.

Maybe it’s about the fifth time death has tried to take your life, ridiculously failing once again. Once you finish your monthly death survival, you finally leave your house again, ready to face death once more, and survive. As you're riding an elevator, you can sense the underlying feeling of a vision.

This building will collapse soon. Despite knowing their eventual end, you can't bring yourself to not help them. Maybe, one day, you can finally succeed and truly have people escape death.

The building collapses once you make it outside again, the few you save horrified at you telling the truth. Once again, you prepare for their gruesome ends, and possibly your own.

But...

It never comes.

You're left wondering when Death will finally make its move, cautious. At some point, you grow terrified. Is he... Preparing the most brutal of deaths for you? Have you really ruined his plans that horribly?

In your panic, you fail to notice the pole that hurls towards you. The moment you finally see it coming for you, it's only a foot away from crushing you full force. This is it.

This is where you die. You close your eyes in preparation, waiting for the end.

...

You open them when you hear a scream behind you. Turning, instead of seeing you're body smooshed in half, you're met with an innocent woman screaming at the sight of a crushed corpse beneath the beam.

One that... You don't remember ever seeing dying in your vision. He wasn't meant to die... It wasn't his time. Maybe he messed with deaths plans? Yes that must be it.

As you watch the enforcers carry his body away, you suddenly remember. He was asking to take you out the other day.

Your suspicions are proven correct when you stick a fork in the outlet. You're seemingly unharmed. Once again, proven right when you walk on the freeway, miraculously avoided by cars. Finally, when you attempt to jump from the tallest building you first saw, somehow, caught by an umbrella below and missing it's sharp point.

It's either not your time, or–

Death is purposefully not allowing you to die.

You know it's not the former, as you've met your end multiple times in your visions. So, what is happening exactly?

In attempts to clear your mind of such absurdities, maybe you finally open yourself up to dating. You're no longer going to die anymore, so maybe you can finally be vulnerable and allow a connection to form.

Except that doesn't happen. Everyone you talk to, you see their ending right before them, unable to stop their imminent death.

Why... Why...? Why has death surrounded you? At first, it was you only...! But now... It's as if you're death itself, causing the demise of everyone around you like it's breathing.

For a moment in your breakdown, you notice a shadow in the corner, a dull blue glow emitting from its smile.

Is that...?

No, it can't be. Death is a force.

It's impossible for it to feel anything else than the need to do its job...

...

If that's the case, Why is it everywhere you go?

No matter where you run, death follows close behind. Not to kill you, but to watch over you–

For however long, until you're the only living thing alive. Enveloped in the loving embrace of death, but never it's natural selection.

The more this thing follows you around, the more you believe... It's been killing everyone around you, even if it's not their time.

...

Despite your attempts, you don't think death will ever allow harm to come to you. He will never let you die.

[axolotl-in-highheels]

Guess who's baaaack

Yes, it is I, and i bring you more of my horribly selfindulgent shit.

◇

Little A/N:

I think this fandom has a huge problem with making 'readers' usually female, straight up victims and it is jarring to see the 141 operators sometimes treating the 'reader' as some pretty object.

So! I am on a mission to fix that with making the 'reader' have a proper backbone (titanium baby!)

And with that i bring you...

◇

Task Force 141 x uninterested!Reader

Premise: the 141 boys are head-over-heels for you and are letting it out in some not-cool ways and you are having none of it!

DW/Tw: possesive behavior

Capt. Jonathan Price

He is actually the calmest out of all of them, still, he has his issues

Price gets overprotective over you, normal at first. Checking in with you after missions and being a shoulder to cry on if the nightmares catch up to you

However...after a while, things spiral. He starts putting you into less and less direct combat situations, from taking the sniper perch to being assinged purely recon and oversight

And worst of all, he is your commanding officer, so you have no real room for backtalk

Even worse, he gets worse privately too. He is around you almost all of the time, scaring off other male soldiers and dragging you into his office for benine reasons

At one point, you break. Combat, once your save-haven, now a distant memory. No more adrenalin spikes while under fire, just boring drone footage and comm oversight.

So, one night, you pack your shit and leave the SAS base. Erasing your tracks through shady contracts and grey areas, you go AWOL.

Price is spiraling now, urging higher-ups to find you, to bring you back where he can see you, where he can control you.

Now, imagine his utter horror when, one day, you emerge on a battlefield, gun in hand, and with a wolf-patch on your vest. Your new life, at KorTac.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Oh he was smitten with you, prettiest bird on base, always smiling at him like he hung the moon in the sky.

Everytime you talked to him this little voice in his head grew louder and louder. He wanted you to be his and how could you resist him? His smile, his personality, hell his everything.

In his eyes you were meant for him. So he started talking to you, a lot. Sure it was nice at first, he gave you tips in the shooting range or sat with you in the mess hall when you were alone.

Yet, you never tried to get closer than 'just friends' with him, you made that clear on multiple occasions afterall. But Gaz was determent, if you didn't want him now he was obviously not trying hard enough

So he doubled down, soon he was glued to your side like gum. Never giving you room to breathe. Still, you held firm, you two are friends nothing more, nothing less.

Seeing his attempts fail over and over, Kyle made a decision, he was gonna make you jealous. Setting his plan in motion, he met up with a lot of girls, civillians mosty, but sometimes a cute new nurse or two.

He was going strong by all means, telling himself it was a matter of time before you came crawling to him, wanting him in your bed.

However, that fell apart like a jenga-tower the day he saw you limping out of Lieutenant Riley's room, covered in hickeys and wearing his shirt, while flashing him a coy smile. Two could play that game, and you won.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Oh soap, poor little soap. He actually knew you, pretty well infact. The two of you were good friends, having met back in basics at the age of 19.

He only saw you occasionally when he was on a brief shore-leave between missions, meeting up with you and letting you ramble about your job in the 'regular' british army

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't like seeing you in such a rough field of work, sure, you were nowhere near his level of life-threatning but still.

Rarely, he voiced his opinion that you should leave the army and become a civillian again, working at a coffeéshop or a bookstore, something soft.

He only had good intentiones but his constant rebuttles and fairytale-like imaginations for your life got annoying quick. Paired with his sour demeanor everyrime you mentioned a new person you were talking to.

After a while of his incessant nagging at your occupation and not-so-suble hints that he's interested in you, you made a decision, one you should have made a long time ago.

You went to the SAS training, 6 months of gruelling physical activity, and torture training combined with little sleep. But you persisted, and were in the 10% success rate. You made it, an SAS soldier.

And by all means you were a natural, leadership came very easy to you and after a few short years of keeping johnny in the dark, you walked into the briefing-room with the rank Captain, ready for action.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon, Simon, Simon. Where do i begin. You were the newest face in the 141, being brought in as a Sergeant to work alongside them.

He didn't think too much of you at first, you did your job and that was all that mattered to him. Sure, you got along well with Soap and Gaz quicky becoming a part of the team.

Over time, he noticed you trying to get closer to him. Offering to train with him or making him a cup of Earl grey in the mornings.

Ghost really tried to not let you invade his thoughts, he was your CO and fraternization is a real danger in his profession but alas it didn't work and he fell for you, hard.

At first he went along with you, training with you and joking around sometimes.

But it quicky spiraled, after some time you came into his office just to work with him or came into his room just to talk if you had a nightmare. Slowly your belongings mixed into one another. You stole his oversized clothing or a pencil, he let you of course, he'd give you his heart if you asked.

But he bever made a move, always pulling back at the last second. When it got too personal he'd shut you out for days on end until you came knocking at his door again.

Yet, things like this never last. So one day, when he was avoiding you again, you had enough. One last time you dropped by his room, when the door finally swung open, you dropped all his stuff into his arms and left. No goodbyes or second chances, Simon, in all his avoidend behavior, blew his chance.

◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇

So, that was it, i'm not too pround of it but eh.

Anyways if you liked it lmk or you can vent what pisses you off about some CoD fanfic tropes i'd love to hear it.

If you want to request something in a similar direction go ahead i'd love to write it!

Thank you and stay tuned

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

You find common ground with the Marks- getting a little too comfortable in the process. Across the desert, plans are made.

Past child abuse. NSFW. (Not related, Jesus)

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [16]  [18] [Chapter Index]

17 * Rendezvous [10.3k]

"I ain't even saved your number

So no, I can't reply to no text,

I make him cry 'bout the pussy,

Probably why my shit so wet."

Cry Baby - Megan Thee Stallion (ft. DaBaby)

        Gray fought the urge to stand closer to you, instead opting to keep watch of the horizon until the others returned. They did, minutes before Tracksuit asking where he was. Neither of you told them to suck it, because that felt a little on the nose. Tracksuit returned, grumbling something about his stomach. 

        Gray took of before Tracksuit could get his bearings, knowing the way better than Tracksuit after Maskless relayed the directions. Tracksuit bitched and moaned as he took to the sky. Gray ignored him because being near you like a magnet for desire that still roiled in his stomach. Nothing was as boner-killing as Tracksuit rattling on about his bathroom trip as they flew.

        Gray found Mark's body under six feet of sand. The stuff dried to him like horrible glitter glue. His heart was still in hand, fingers clutching so hard it punctured in multiple places. He was stiff and cold, flesh starting to sink in with rot.

        With all the dried bug carcasses, he could smoke all of Mark in hours instead of days like Emperor. He set up a station in what used to be your old home. It'd keep the heat well.

        Tracksuit helped. Mumbling about how fucked up it was the whole time despite his actions, because eventually the bugs would run dry. They needed emergency food. 

        He made Tracksuit swear not to tell you. Though if they ever had to turn to the backup, you'd know right away where it came from. 

        ***

        Omni returned diligently to your side. Listening to your spiked heart rate, watching your reddened face, how your eyes avoided his. He chalked it all up to more crying, you poor thing.  

        He spoke first, watching the fire, trying to see what you saw in your memories.

        "I'm impressed by what you built down there." Your home. Your hamster hut. Your shitty bug furniture. Shared with Mark. You suck in your lips and he knows he's said the wrong thing. You didn't need empty platitudes, you needed connection. The thing you so clearly had with Mark. So apparent in the single, well-worn cot, the lingering smell of soup and sex. "I was young when I first developed my powers." 

        Markus was up to bat. Missed once, twice, then hit the incoming baseball so hard it knocked the pitcher off his feet and broke three of his ribs. It was chalked up to a freak accident but Nolan knew it wasn't. It was everything he had been waiting for, he was so proud. Took Markus and Debbie out to ice cream after insincerely apologizing to the parents of the kid his son just hospitalized. Markus remembers laughing at the ice cream shop, the smile on his dads face. It was one of the last times he ever felt normal. 

        Training began right away. School shoved aside, play dates ignored, his weekends bowling with mom gone for good. Dad didn't go easy on him just because he was a child. In hindsight, his training was harder at the beginning compared to when he got older. Back then, he didn't follow orders as well. He misunderstood things, wasn't strong enough to withstand villains or the beatings that'd come if he failed to take down the bad guy of the week. But he learned overtime, getting hit was better than staying in the room. 

        A few months into his training, he'd fucked up big time. Was too slow and let an elderly couple get smashed by a car some rouge giant mutant threw. Instead of going after the mutant, he lifted the car in a desperate attempt to save the man, who's screams he could hear. Except the weight of the car was keeping the blood inside his crushed body, and when he lifted it with an apology, he bled out in front of Markus's eyes. So fast there was no chance of saving him. Not the first death he'd seen, not even close, but he remembered it for what came after.

        Debbie had introduced Nolan to the idea of a timeout when Markus was a toddler refusing to eat his veggies. Stay quiet, keep your head in the corner, don't move. It was a very human punishment, suitable to his son without powers. Viltrumite children did not misbehave the way Markus did, for fear of a beating, or just the fear of being perceived as weak, to be culled. Nolan knew Markus would never understand that pressure being raised on Earth, so he had to raise the stakes, punishment would have to match his son. So he shoved Markus into the downstairs coat closet, told him to face the wall and not move until he came back. Then he shut the door. Didn't come back for hours. 

        The house had gone quiet. Markus was well-behaved, but this was ridiculous. Dad knew it was an accident. He surely didn't mean for him to be in the closet so long. It was an accident the punishment went so long. Those people were dead forever and that sucked but it wasn't Markus's fault for trying to save them. Honest mistakes happen all the time! When he opened the door, it was night. He saw Dad right away with his eyes adjusted to the dark. Sat still on the couch, a travel booklet open in his lap.

        "I told you to stay." Dad was in front of him in an instant. Chest to Markus's nose. The threat of violence in his stillness. "You want to be like me, don't you?" He nodded though he was scared shitless and really had to pee but didn't know how to say it. "Then you need to learn to truly reflect on your mistakes."

        "Dad-"

        He shut up when Dad's fist balled. He wanted to be like him so, so very badly. He also wanted out of the closet. He also didn't want to get hit again. He decided then to look at it as training, and not as something that made him feel cracked and incomplete, if this was the only way, so be it. Markus shut the door and faced the wall for three days.

        Debbie found him while looking for an old kerchief to wear to an open house. She blindly believed Nolan when he said Mark was staying at William's house for the weekend. Piss reek on all the coats despite being dried in his pants. She tore Nolan a new one the best she could, but he quieted her. He never hit her but he held things over her neck like a guillotine. "Debbie, you need to understand. Viltrumite children are different, stronger, he can take it."

        "Nolan, he's eight."

         "Which is early for powers, yes, but there's no better time to set him on the right path. What I'm doing is a good thing. Markus neeeds to be prepared to do whatever it takes to keep the planet safe." His voice was placating, easy. They'd had this conversation a hundred times and Nolan always won.

        But Debbie still tried, less as time wore on, but still tried nonetheless. "Can't you go a little easier on him?"

        "Do you want Earth to be blown up by a metor if I'm not around to stop it? Or alien invsation or mind control? I can't be everywhere at once."

        "There's other heros to-"

        Nolan held up his hand to quiet her. "They're only human."

        "Only human?" She was insulted. 

         "Yes, Debbie, only human. You'll never understand what it's like for us. What we are. As a Viltrumite, I know better than you. I know whats best for the planet. You know how to sell a house. Who do you think is more fit to raise our boy to be who he wants to be?"  Markus had begged for training all his life. Lay anxiosly awake at night, worring if he'd never get his powers. 

Debbie didn't try much longer, like she should've, she let him steamroll her. All she did for Markus was buy him enough time to change clothes, to go to the bathroom but not clean up. Nolan had him back in the closet while he took his mother to bed where they argued. Markus could hear their rising voices through the walls. Superhearing not developed enough to parse out the words. The yelling gave way to the apparent sounds of sex. There was nothing else to hear, to focus on. 

         It was Dad who got the say when he was let out. While he sat in the dark his fathers face had morphed into a monster in his mind, an unfamiliar hatred that choked out the rest of his senses. He wanted to yell at him, to hit the thing that was keeping him in there. But when Nolan opened the door and put a hand on his shoulder, it was just his father. He was so overwhelmed and so grateful he hugged him. Nolan hugged him back, saying, "I'm sorry I had to do that, son." 

        It happened again. He made less mistakes as he got older but they still happened. Nolan would take him to the closet, sometimes silently sometimes with violence. Markus tried leaving multiple times over the years. Dad would find him immediately or some time later, sometimes goading him back to the closet, sometimes beating him so bad he had no choice but to be carried back. And there he sat. Stewing. Becoming steelier than his father in the dark. Always aspiring to be like Nolan but thinking to himself, if he had a son he'd do different. He'd be better. He'd look better in red and white instead of that silly blue-yellow color scheme Art picked out for him. 

        "I know what isolation can do to someone," Omni said.

        Killing Dad was a lot easier than he'd thought it'd be. He'd placed him on such a high pedestal he didn't notice how thin the supports were. But that wasn't the point. This was about the things you shared, not his love-hate fueled parental double homicide.

        Yet you looked at him like he'd emphasized how he'd beat his father's head in after snapping mom's neck. You looked up at him, a whisper on your lips, "What the fuck?"

        He had expected that reaction. You'd given him a similar one before. Except by the time that happened, you'd been together for years and put things a little less vulgarly. He'd always thought it was strange, how you cried to him about the death of his parents. He told you it was an attack. An old arch nemesis, a flimsy story, really, but you'd believed him because with him, you knew he always knew what was best. He could still remember the horror on your face when you found out what he really was. This time around, he'd be more honest from the get go. The more you understood him, the more he understood you. 

        "Dude, if that's your idea of flirting you suck," Tracksuit said, back to you both lying on the floor trying to sleep.

        It wasn't said exactly, but neither party was willing to leave you with the other. So they stuck around under the tent, waiting for the cool but not overly hot morning to move the tent closer to Tracksuit's and Maskless's expansive concrete estate. 

        Despite what Tracksuit said, you had leaned on Omni's side halfway through the story. Relating to some things and being horrified by the rest. Hating that you felt bad for him, that you could see a kid Markus alone in the dark and feel only horror at the idea. Hating that you needed to feel his body heat, how you couldn't stop yourself from melting into it. Hating that you needed to hear a story of someone else burned in the dark. His story, life, was worse, to the point where you wanted to apologize for making him talk about it, but you don't.

        Instead, you give him want he wants, what a stupid part of you needs, "Thanks... Markus." You can't look at him. Won't. Don't want to see what the name does to him- send a flush of memory to his cheeks and a glint to his eyes. "Even if that was a super fucked up time in your life." You think about telling him about the first time you killed someone. Not first blood for Machine Head, but the real first time. The accident. 

        "Of course, my dove." His arm loosely snakes around your waist, holding your body closer.

        Tracksuit's head whipped around. Pissed at you but nosy. The last time he heard that name you were crying it out. And since when were you on a pet-name basis with that daddy-loving freak? He found Markus's head pressed to your (hair/scalp), not quite kissing you but not not kissing you. Nose twitching as he inhaled your sweaty, desert scent. Ew. He flipped back around.

        You knew what you were doing. Trying to get closer to Markus to fill the Mark shaped hole in your wounded heart. The guilt of it hits you, dizzying and harsh. 

        "Don't call me that." You said though it had made your gut pleasantly twist. To be loved is to be changed and Mark loved you so much in those two weeks despite what he did to you. You hated the way it changed you. Here was Markus, offering up love on a silver platter with no secret side dish of being locked away and going insane. 

        The skip of your heart says you're a liar who likes the name but he placates you, "Would you rather I call you something else?"

        His lips move against your (hair/scalp), his voice low and teasing, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine and straight to your still aching cunt. It'd been hours since you'd sucked Gray dry and you wanted more. When Markus had returned with Maskless, him and Gray took to the sky. You had no idea if he told but guessed not with how surprisingly chill Markus was with his presence. If you told him, you'd ruin things, but you'd get the pleasure of hurting his stupid feelings.

        You make the decision that's not best in the long haul, but for now, "My name is just fine."

        ***

        Gray waited in the sky. Hands behind his back, still slick with sweat. Heart rate slowed, an unusual relaxation in his shoulders that he tried to offset by being extra rigid. Cock still wet with your saliva. Luckily, the wind made his kilt flutter forward a degree, hiding the mild arousal that'd repossessed him. 

        You were down there. Small with distance. Content, with no idea that you'd taken his world view and flipped it around and around. Before he was fighting for a reason to care, unsure of why he was still fighting to survive. But the care you'd shown him, how easily you could unwind him and fill him with such new uncertain feelings was more than enough. One thing was for certain, procreation without actually procreating was much better than he had ever envisioned. He wanted to do it again and again and again. Any and every way you could teach him. He fantasized about things he never gave thought before. Remembered the slivers of your skin he'd seen and shivered. 

        He wasn't just surviving for the Empire now. He was surviving for you and your vicious tongue. For the chance to fill you with love and his... oh. Jesus, that was uncouth. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. If you'd like it. The sounds and faces you'd make. The-

        "You wanted to speak to me?" Markus lifted into the sky behind him. 

        Gray didn't turn. Hard on too apparent even in the wind. "Your mate attempted to convince me to take her to the others while you were gone." He kept his tone mild.

        Markus crossed his arms, "And how did she do that?" 

        He should tell the truth. Lies would cause problems in a situation like this but he felt so much closer to you having a secret. Plus his allyship with Markus was new, he couldn't risk it, not now. Not if it meant losing you. Gray just had to hope you'd also keep your mouth shut.

         "We spoke at length," he said, "She tried to use her powers but she's drained. From what I've observed, it may take until her leg heals for her to be at full potency. We should plan for that." A gnawing, horny part of him said fuck it. Take her along. Kill the others. More blowjobs for him. Blowjobs for a job well done. More food for him. Food for a job well done. Both animal cravings the desert brought out in him.

        "I see," Markus said. 

        Gray had been shot at by alien ray guns. Been cursed, beat, trained by one of Viltrum's elite. He kept himself cool and steady to a T. He felt Markus could see right through him, had to school his heart rate and breathing. He was sure he'd win the fight if it came to that, but there'd be repercussions surrounding you he wasn't ready to face- not after you'd recently grown so affectionate. 

        "Her leg will be healed in about a week." Gray added. 

        Markus nodded to himself. "So we have a week to convince her to not try and kill herself for nothing." Not a lot of time considering how stubborn you'd proved to be. Refusing to die in those caves, taking one of them down despite your affections for him. 

        "I say we have a week to train her until we all go to kill them," Gray said, watching the man over his shoulder. Was the idea too unlike himself? Would Markus know what had transpired?

        Markus was quiet a moment. Gray took it as suspicion until he said, "They could kill us too." Though Markus loathed to admit it. "Kill her to get at us. It's too dangerous." But so were they. They'd spot you eventually. "But I agree. Something must be done about them, sooner rather than later. I don't want her involved."

        Why not? She's an asset. Gray thought, before his dick caught up to him. No post-battle reward if you were dead. It was his turn to say, "I see."

        ***

        The days went by in a molasses blur. The tent was moved beside the concrete runes that was Maskless and Tracksuit's base. Simply so there'd be no quarrel about where you'd be and who with- you were with them, at their shared base, all the time. They kept to their original bases and you floated between them. 

        Skirting the days by in agony as your bone knit itself back together. Turns out humans didn't have speed-healing for a reason- it hurt like a motherfucker. You'd used the last of your codeine to dull the pain, but it barely scratched the surface. So most of the time you just laid down wherever was coolest, and wondered when you were going to join Mark in death.

        The pain wasn't all physical, being nearly bed ridden left you with lots of time to think about him. It shouldn't hurt so bad, him being gone. You hadn't really known him all that long. You lived together for two weeks and the affection had started to turn to a boiling hatred. But you got to live and he didn't. His only crime was not joining the empire, oh and mass homicide on your version of Earth but still- you felt like the shittier person. He killed for you, you killed because some robot asshole told you to.

        You were starfished on Markus's cot, recovered from the cave ruins under the tent shade. Hot, but hydrated enough to sweat. Stripped to the soldier's underthings. Leg no longer splinted, bone mostly healed but still, it hurt to walk.

        "What are thinking about?" Markus. Ever since he told you about himself, you'd started calling him the name like he'd been calling you yours. He liked it. A lot. You hated how much he liked it, but liked that somebody liked something you were doing. You just wanted to feel loved again. Not by him necessarily, but he kept hand feeding you affection like you were some skittish horse.

        Markus had you practice using your powers every day. Never as long or hard as Gray would like but it was compromise to not using power at all. Tracksuit or Maskless were often your unwilling subjects, paid in extra bug meat. You were getting better by the day, stronger as your leg healed.

       Gray was down in the caves doing something. He wouldn't tell you what. Maskless was down there with him, sifting through the ruins of the hatchery. Last you saw Tracksuit he said he was going to nap in his hammock- the map turned cloak he demanded you give back days ago. You did, though you bickered back and forth. Blooming friendship soured by his jabs and you making him literally jab himself. You missed the normalcy he brought, but you were also pissed at him. You were pissed at everything, all the time. So was he. The desert made bitches out of both of you.   

        Back to Markus. You wanted a few things from him. For him to take you to Phantom. For him to help you ease the pain in your leg and your heart. You could get all that and more if he would just, "Come here." You reached up for him, hovering over your bed. In the past few days you'd allowed him to hold you. It left you with a swirling contradictory roster of feelings. 

        He obeyed, coming closer until your arms could snake around his back. Tugging at him. He smiled. Thinking finally, you were returning his affections, molding into the sweet thing he wanted you to be. He'd been fine just holding you while you sat or laid there like a corpse, but he'd been yearning for your reciprocation. 

        For awhile, you let him hold you. You made no sound, didn't doze. Just lay with your eyes open, face pressed to his chest listening to his beating heart. Thinking about Mark. Thinking that if he wasn't so... You closed your eyes. You couldn't start thinking it was Mark's fault. Wouldn't. But if he had just held on, let you dig you both out...

        You couldn't think anymore. You pulled back from Markus's chest, looked into his face. Calm with a slight wrinkle of worry in his brow. "My-"

        You kissed him. Trying to recoup yourself in it, to not feel the overwhelming void. You feel his stubble scratch against your jaw and reach your hand up to trace along it. You feel needy and when he tenses and kisses back you feel wanted, vindicated. You go back and forth, slow and steady wins the race- and gets your motor humming. He welcomed your tongue into his mouth, practically rolled out the red carpet. He was all too happy to help you feel needed, wanted.

        Through the rolling of tongues and sighs, you could still remember Mark, feel the rebar digging into your skin and his arms around your waist. You needed something more. Your hand left his cheek, trailing down his chest until you found a semi on the soft side. 

        He was gone from you all at once. Standing on his knees on the edge of the cot. You followed him, lifting onto your elbows, face flushed and lips buzzing. Whining, "Why'd you stop?"

        You looked so much like her. Chest heaving, eyes wanting, splayed on the bed under him begging for more. He wanted to give it to you but not like this.

        "I don't think you're ready." He knew the only reason you let him cling to you was Mark's death. It stung, but he was grateful. Knew you'd eventually stick around because you liked him for him, not that dead boy. Only when your heart had healed and you were wanting, would he make love to you again.

        "For sex? I think I am." You'd been thinking about how good it'd felt to suck Gray off for days. Gray had been avoiding you but seemed to have told nobody of your rendezvous. You missed how getting eaten out by Mark felt. Fingers stretching out your cunt. You ached for something more. Something thick and mind-erasing, even for a little while. Felt guilty about it, felt not-guilty, then guilty all over again.

        Markus frowned as you sat fully upright. Hands reaching for his waist. He leaned back, "You're still grieving and hurt."

        But you were insistent. Hurting so much in the stillness, the broken leg and your mind eating at you. You needed this. "Gray gave me the okay to walk yesterday. Why don't we set that back a little, yeah?" 

        He shook his head and completely floated out of range. "Don't use my love for you to hurt yourself." You didn't rise to follow. Knew it'd be a fruitless endeavor. 

        You scoffed still, rejection stung. "Sex wouldn't hurt me."

        He rose a brow. Remembering how you enjoyed him manhandling you. Remember how your attitude had started to shift after he fucked you. Sex changes things, though he doesn't bring it up. "I'm sure we'd enjoy it, yes, but I don't want you to regret it afterwards." 

        "I won't." 

        You didn't love him enough yet. You hadn't dropped Mark from your mind.

        "You will." He said. You fixed him with a look but you both knew he's right. "I appreciate the... offer but I think it's best to wait." He moved back toward the edge of the tent. Thinking about fucking you till you begged him to stop. Feeling himself twinge with excitement but his mind was stronger than his body. "I'm going to check on the others. I'll tell you if they've found anything."

        With that, he was gone. Fighting himself to leave you but knowing it'd pay off in the end. You wouldn't see him as some fuck buddy, he was to be your husband. 

        You were alone. Unsatisfied. Needy as hell. Pissed. Needed someone to rant to, a little normalcy. Needed to feel like you were talking to Mark at the very beginning of things. Him and his cocktail sauce jokes.

        You trudged to the other base where the only other person you could talk to was.

        The concrete remains were shaded but sweltering. The hammock ends were stuffed into cracks in the wall like they used to be before Maskless tore them out, unsecured and unsurprising when Tracksuit fell out of it, again. He swore as he got up off the ground, trying to fix the damn thing and take his nap. He was tired of sand, of this fucking place and everything that came with it. He heard the crunch of your boots, another thing he hated about the desert. "Didn't hear the other guys makin' food so wha'dya want?"

        You leaned against the bare window frame watching his back flex as he worked, trying and failing to shove the fabric back where it used to be.

        "That's not going to work." You thought of Mark trying to help make the buggy furniture. His hands were big and clumsy, you ended up making most of it.

        He scoffed. "You come'ere just to tell me that?" He crawled into the freshly hung hammock, which instantly fell. He bristled as he thrashed in the sheet, saw you still watching and hissed catishly, "Fuck off!"

        You left to his relief, only to come back a few minutes later. You walked slowly, mostly leaned to your good leg. You were determined to walk on your own, with no more sad looks from Gray or Markus. "Here." You re-entered the room, holding your rebar crutch. "Use this as a stake." 

        In the time you were gone he tried three more times with zero success. "Oh yeah, cuz I can hang a hammock off one thingy." He snatched the crutch out of your hand anyways. 

        You watched him look around. Considering sticking it in the sand but remembering it wouldn't hold. You suggested, "Stick it in the wall. Tie the other half to that." You point to a rusty spike of metal jutting out of the ceiling. You'd had to be resourceful in the cave, with Mark.

        Tracksuit grumbled but listened. Shoving the rebar into the wall, sending cracks along it, making you worry the wall would crumble and ceiling would come down but the rebar held. He tied one end to it, then the other to the spike you pointed out. He gently, slowly, laid himself down. Tensed for the inevitable fall but it didn't come. "Hm."

        "You're welcome." You said, not your normal biting tone.

        "Didn't say thank you." He bit back.

        "I know." 

        He waited for you to leave but you didn't. "Thought you came over cuz you were all like, annoyed at the sound of me falling n' shit. You jus' gon watch me sleep or something?"

        "No."

        He spun, back facing you. He slipped his mask off his face. Hot as all hell under the fabric. "Then piss off, I'm trying to sleep." 

        "Is it really that hard to not be a dick to me?" You snapped. Deep down you missed that asshole you smoked with. You needed a friend. You couldn't see him now, just another back turned. You can almost imagine Mark in the end- despite the hair.

        "I dunno, is it really that hard to not be a huge bitch when every guy in the desert is slobbering over your pussy?" 

        "Excuse me?" You had power again. You could make him hurt. You wanted to rebuild the bridge you burned but... God, he was such a dick.

        "If I were you, I'd be all for it. Like, you can't do shit but sit around, so why not ease the tension a bit and pass yourself around?" 

        He didn't mean it but he was mad. Missing Rex, missing home. Missing when he didn't have to hear about you and see you every fucking day. You got to eat good in a cave while he starved in the sun, got to cum as much as you wanted with an endless roster of boyfriends but abstained for some fucking reason. 

        He heard your footsteps coming closer but didn't move. He knew you couldn't hurt him but was wary of you controlling him. He hadn’t considered you could untie the hammock from the crutch and let him fall on his ass. It didn't hurt but it did well making him angry. He snarled up at you from the floor, unmasked, feeling naked but he didn't lunge for the cover. Thought it'd make him seem weak in front of you. "Fuck was that for?"

        You knew under the fabric he was Mark, but seeing his face for the first time felt like a hot slap. He was Mark with thicker brows, one of them slit. He was Mark with a more bent nose bridge, a bull ring septum, and a cheek dermal. He was Mark with longer lashes and a scowl that said he hated you. Mark would could grow facial hair, stubbly and spotty as it was. Seeing his face made your gut twist painfully and balloon with butterflies. You had wanted to reply, to tell him he was being a cunt but your throat was dry.

        Tracksuit saw the hesitation in your eyes and went for the kill. He stood fast, forced his face into yours grinning. "Aww, lose ya nerve when you saw this sexy mug?"

        You didn't back down, pointing at the cheek piercing, "You look ridiculous." Though you thought it looked sexy.

        "Tch. Yeah right. You're like- biologically down for all this, sweetheart." The pet name came out as an insult. 

        "I don't fuck losers." You leaned in, challenging him back. 

        "Really?" His breath was hot on your lips, "Could've had me fooled."

        You snarled. "Step off." 

         Even though you were in his place, standing over his fallen hammock. Even though you could make him with your powers but you don't. 

        "You first." He said.

        You'd been down this road before. Knew where it led, but you stood your ground. Waited for it to happen.

        Both of you stared nto each other’s eyes, yours so pretty, his light and amber. Anger electric between you. You don't remember who looked at whose lips first. Just that someone did and lips and teeth collided shortly after. You had him by the collar, pulling him violently close. He gripped you hard by the waist. Tongues already in each other's mouths. Growling like animals. Biting but never hard enough to bleed.

        As the kiss moved, so did your bodies. He pushed your back rough into the concrete wall, pressing himself fully into you. Warming your already overheated body. Pressing his quickly growing arousal to your thigh. You moaned into his mouth, heat pooling between your legs. 

        He sensed it. Moved his hands from your waist to your hips, forcing your legs up, making your thighs hook around his hips. The sound you made when his clothed arousal pressed to yours, a harsh gasp, only made him harder. He snickered against your lip, grinding into your core. "You fuckin' like that?"

        This was a terrible idea on both your parts but neither of you stopped. Tracksuit needed a proper release after starving in the desert and You needed a distraction from the grief. Both of you got something out of this. 

        "Hate it." You said against his lips, slick with your spit before you kissed him again. Body moving with his, dry humping each other like dogs against the wall.

        He's touchy. Hands slipping under your shirt to paw at your tits. Kneading them harsh in his hands. Savoring how it made you gasp into his mouth. "Not such a bitch now, huh?"

        He was Mark, but sounded nothing like Mark when he talked. It was the accent, the cocky attitude. Part of you wanted to pretend it was Mark making you feel good. Another part wants you to remember its Tracksuit. Mark was dead, couldn’t make you feel good anymore, move on.

        You can't make up your mind so you tell him to, "Shut the fuck up."

         You escape his lips and go for his throat. Not bothering to kiss down the column of skin, going right to sucking and biting. His hips cant against yours, pressing delicious friction to your core. 

        "Yeah," He gasps, "Yeah, just like that."

        "What did I just say?" You bite him again. This time he doesn't comment, only groaning as he grinds into you.

        He doesn't expect it when you say, "Get off of me."

        He listened, not because you used your powers. but because his mind came back to him. Thinking, 'oh shit, I'm so dead, the others came back and heard and I'm sooo fucked.' He listened, looked out the broken windows and saw no one. 

        "Blue ballin' me, seriously?" He tried to sound pissed but he only sounded desperate. He only stepped back a few feet. He was faster than you. Could so easily pin your back to the wall and fuck you into it. He doesn't because he's not Scars. You're a person to him, despite much of an asshole as you were.

        You gave him an annoyed look. "I can't take my pants off like that." 

        Oh. Oh!

         He shifted on his feet, ready to tear your pants off rather than wait for you to pull them down. His head (not the lower one) stirred. "Wait a sec. Are you trying to get me killed right now?"

        You didn’t stop undoing your pants buttons. "They're all out right now. We've got time."

        His mind went blank when you started wiggling your hips to get out of the pants. God Damn. His head stirred, that one this time. "They catch us, I'm dead."

        "You're dead once we run out of food anyway." Or until you accidentally made him kill himself, you thought bitterly. You knelt down and tugged off your boots, stepped out of your pants. Casual, easy, like sex used to be. You hated that you felt the need to say, "Are we doing this or what?" When everything was so easily passed between you and Mark. You hooked your thumbs in the solider shorts, waiting for his reply. Looking dangerously hot. He prayed to a God he didn't believe in that your pussy would be to die for.

        Tracksuit had you back against the wall, helping you tug down the shorts. Naked from the waist down, though your rumpled-up tank top didn't cover much. He'd undone his suit, pulled the zipper at his neck all the way down to his crotch. Exposing a sweaty, toned chest and a cock in dire need of attention. He hated that Art made him a onesie but it was easy to get in and out of.

        "Fuck." You moaned just looking at him. Still mostly clothed but Jesus. 

        "Like what you see?" He squeezed your ass as you rehooked your legs around his waist. 

        "Shut up." You tugged at his hair and he moans, leans in to mindlessly shove his tongue down your throat. You welcome it. Leaving him to blindly fumble with his dick, sliding the pink aching tip up and down your folds. Coating himself and relishing your shudder. 

        He pushed in slow. Eyes rolling back into his head as your welcoming cunt stretched around him. So wet and ready for him. It'd been such a long time since he fucked. A millennia by his standards with his revolving door of booty calls. Sliding inside you felt like coming home.

        You knew he'd be big, him and Gray were the same person after all, but he just kept going and going. Filling you inch after thick inch. Pushing your body to its limit by the time his pelvis met yours. For a moment, you were both still. Your body adjusting to the fullness. So much bigger than fingers. 

        "You good?" He panted into your lips. You growled and canted your hips. That was answer enough. 

        Squeezing your ass, he rolled his hips back, dragging his dick slowly out before he pushed forward. Testing the feel of you. All of you felt like it was squeezing him, trying to keep him inside, close. You moaned as he pulled out again only to shove back inside, faster this time. He'd done enough fucking to know the signs that someone liked it fast, liked it hard. He wasted no time in setting a pace that made your skin clap together. 

        Filling you all the way before leaving you empty then forcing your cunt to reopen, to take all of him in one long drag. Over and over. His pelvis slapped harshly against your swollen clit. Your moans echoing off the concrete walls only spurred him on. So different from the way Mark worshiped your pussy. Mark was all about giving, even when you were pleasuring him, he wanted to be good for you. Here you were, a week after his death, being fucked near to tears by another man (kind of). Tracksuit took, greedy and unforgiving. God, you were awful and God Tracksuit's dick felt so good. Why was Mark so scared of giving you his?

        "You know," Tracksuit pulled you from your half-dazed thoughts, "you're a lot nicer with a dick you." He watched your face, flushed, fucked-out by a few strokes. He wasn't surprised, he was good at a short list of things: Killing, fighting, and fucking.

        Only then you realized how desperate and slutty you must look. You schooled your features but he'd seen it, was grinning mischievously at you though his eyes were clouded with want. Dick snapping into you. 

        "You're a lot less annoying when you shut up." You could've cum by now if he just kept quiet. Stopped pulling you out of your thoughts that only made you start to spiral. Pleasure mixing thick with self hate and regret.

        "You say that a lot." He chuckled.

        "Because you talk a lot." You yanked him forward by his tousled hair. You sucked on his neck and finally, instead of yapping, he moans. Gripping you harder, hips starting to stutter, thrusts less calculated, balls deep practically grinding his cockhead against your cervix.

       “You want me to pull out or can I cum in you like a slut too?” He probably shouldn't have added that last part. You'd probably push him off, hate him for saying it but you don't. 

        The idea makes you clench around him, throb with want. Finally forget. You try and fail to keep your voice steady, maoning, "Don’t you dare pull out.”  

        "Fuck- nnnngg- fuck I'm-" A jackal's bark escapes his throat as he cums. Filling you more than you already had been. Hot and claiming. His head lulls as his dick went sof, heart hammering. "Holy shit." He pulled out of you. The plug gone, his cum starts to ooze out. "Fuck I did not think you’d let me cum in you, that’s crazy." He mused over the view a moment. 

        You leaned back against the wall. Dejected. Feeling like a slut cheating on Mark who was fucking dead. Feeling like if you didn't cum this would all be for nothing. You don't care about showing him, just lift your tank top and let him see the scar. "Doesn't mean much, remember?"

        He felt like an asshole. "Uh. Yeah." His hands leave your ass, now lightly bruised in the shape of his hands. Usually people were panting when he was done with them. You just looked kinda sad, but that wasn't his problem. You were the pampered princess, he was just some guy, not some princeling who promised to save you from a castle. He unnotched your legs from his waist, left you shivering and wanting as he grabbed his zipper and starting pulling it up. "Thanks for that."

        Your feet hit the sand and you are fucking pissed. "I'm not done." You prowled forward, needing to finish what you started. Pussy throbbing. Having a taste of him but not enough to bring you to orgasm. You kept thinking about Mark every time you got close- bit of a mood killer. 

        He jutted his hips forward, softened dick uselessly flopping between his legs. "Can't really fuck you like this."

        Mark would've never left you wanting. Even if he'd come he'd take care of you, double whatever you gave him, triple it. "You selfish asshole." 

        Tracksuit shrugged with an unwarranted smirk, like you’d just called him handsome. "I get that a lot."

        You narrowed your eyes at him and his toned body and good dick and hair sweatily stuck to his forehead. You wanted him all over again but he'd need time to recover. "Lie down."

        "What?"

        Your eye twitched. "Look, we're probably going to die. Let's just get this out of our systems." That got him on his back, hands folded behind his neck like a pillow. Dick still soft but soon to wake. 

        "So what'cha gon do until then?" Tracksuit watched you, amused as you crawled on top of him. Cum rolling in streaky tears down your inner thighs. 

        Your pussy touched down on his muscled thigh. Rough fabric providing the perfect amount of friction. You don't reply, hands coming down on his hard chest as your hips started to rock, sliding yourself up and down his leg like a dog. He watched, mesmerized by the way you moved. Needing his dick to resurrect so you’d do that rolling motion on him. 

         "You gonna help at all?" You snarled at him, still and lazy, hands still tucked behind his head.

        "Don't wanna ruin the view." He said, happy to watch as your eyes flutter from grinding on his legs. Most girls would be too embarrassed to do something this desperate. God, you really were a slut. He appreciated that. Loved a good slut. Didn’t consider why you might be desperate or what it meant. 

        "Dickhead."

        "Speaking of," he palmed his regrowing erection. Still slick with your fluids. You were poised to sit down on him before he was fully hard. He didn't mind. 

        You were full once again. Getting fuller by the second as he grew harder inside of you. Again, you rolled your hips on him. Feeling his cock push into your walls, grind against all those sweet spots that made your eyes roll back. Your shin shot little spikes of pain up your back but you didn't care. Leaned forward, gripping him by the shoulders as you chased release.

        Hands came to your hips, guiding you along with a guttural, "Fuck yeah, baby."

        It was your turn to set the pace and you did. Bringing yourself up and down as fast as you could. Trying to out run the grief. Feeling Tracksuit's thickness punch up inside of you. Thinking about doing this with, "Mark."

        Tracksuit's closed eyes open. Watching you. Knowing who you were pretending he was. Fine by him. He was using you to cum too. But, he was still mildly insulted, he wouldn't give you what you wanted, only himself. He gripped your hips hard, started fucking back up into you, making your tits bounce, setting the pace. You tried to keep up but you were only human. Just a hole for him to fuck.

        You were about to cum. You could feel that sweet tension building inside of you, ready to snap when he flips you on your back. Climax slips through your fingers as his dick shifts, hitting a different spot entirely.

        "Are you fucking serious?" You snapped.

        "Yes ma'am." He didn't hide the way he was watching your tits bounce through the tank top. Didn't hide his purposeful denial.

        "You are-"

        "A selfish asshole? Yeah, think I just heard that."

         You snarl but get lost in him again. It's endearing. He liked your attention on him, though he doesn't know why. He'd had plenty of casual flings he didn't care about, but none of them got a round two. Maybe the desert was really starting to get to him. Maybe he had a crush. Whatever- you were fucking him and he was going to make sure you knew it.

        He grabbed you by the plush of your hips and rammed in deep. Cock filling you all at once. He savored the way your eyes shot back. Mouth fell open. He opened his mouth to taunt as your spasming hand reached up, and covered his lips. He smiled into your palm. 

        You bounced off each other. Shifting sand under your bodies. He filled you deeply, completely, fast, so fast. Holding your hips at an angle so his cockhead punched into your g-spot every time. You felt orgasm finally coming like freight train. Your mind went blank.

        "Oh shit!" Your pussy convulsed around him. Squeezed so hard he felt like you'd snap his dick clean off. Jerked him off with your muscles and twitches so good that he came again. The hardest he'd ever cum. Vision going blurry and mind going fuzzy. Maybe there was a reason the others wanted you so bad.

        Cum leaked out your hole from around his softening length. Every inch of you full and warm and claimed again like it'd been with Mark who could've fucked you like this had he not been so scared. 

        For a few blissful seconds, you were a blank slate before it all came crashing back. Mark was dead and you just fucked somebody else a week after he died. 

        Tracksuit pulled out and flopped into the sand beside you. Heaving, red faced.

         "Holy fuck." He said. It was good before but feeling the way you came? "I think I just saw God." One thing was for sure, your pussy was not mediocre. Most people couldn't get him to cum once, let alone twice.

        Your breath hitched. He turned to watch you laugh exept you weren’t laughing. You were crying.

        ***

        Markus wasn't gone for more than ten minutes. Just long enough to check on Gray and Maskless's progress with the jerky. A collective secret shared. Talking of dead man's meat cools his body and mind. They head back in a group, flying low and slow, idly searching the desert as they went. Finding nothing. 

        He heard it before he landed. Heard the same sound fall from your lips all those weeks ago in the dark cave after you fell. Ricocheting off the walls of the concrete ruins, so loud it made his ears twitch. Markus was a reasonable man. He knew you were bound to be attracted to the others, would be downright concerned if you weren't. But still, it hurt, hearing you fuck another version of himself. The one who didn't even care about you- that hurt. How could you be so stupid? 

        His gloves groaned as he approached the building. He was going to rip that rat off you and give you the talking-to of a lifetime. A hand fell on his shoulder, Gray. Who was fighting jealousy in his own right but approached the situation a little more clinically. "Humans get frustrated when they can not finish what they set out to do."

        Maskless ran his hand over his face and retreated to the tent, where he laid himself down. Hands over ears to drown the sounds out. No prude but pretty fucking annoyed. Forcing himself to think about William and now how much he hated the lot of you.

        Markus waited, getting angrier by the second, every grunt and moan that came out of that building like a punch. He was livid, but willing to wait until you were decent. He'd waited and suffered long enough what were a few more minutes? But once he heard your soft cries, that plan went out the window.

        ***

        "I'm bored! This is boring!" Lensless whined, head thrown back. Phantom didn't react to him poking at his wounds anymore. Whenever Phantom was conscious, he didn't react to much at all. "We should just kill 'im. Jerky-fy him the way that guy did."

        "He knows where she is." Scars scratched at his beard. Somehow he grew one while all Lensless got was spotty stubble. 

        Lensless hummed, thinking while he shoved a thumb under Phantom's dirty bandages. Feeling around in the hot meat, stomach grumbling. Phantom breathed but didn’t stir. 

       "He's not gonna tell us, even if he could." Lensless pulled his thumb out and popped it into his mouth, savoring the rich flavor. He sucked his finger clean before shoving it back in. "She's probably dead anyway." He smiled, but wasn't happy. You barely used your powers on him. Barely pushed him around. He hardly got to see you cry and break down. That was no fun at all.

        Scars quietly considered this. Hating that Lensless of all people was right. "We'll kill the next one slower." 

        Lensless grinned. "Any idea who?"

        "Whoever we find. We'll keep him alive till we've got a replacement."

        "Sounds good to me!"

        Mohawk slunk away from the wall he hid behind.

        ***

        "Aw shit," Tracksuit rolled onto his side, trying to joke. "Was it really that good?" 

        You wiped at your eyes with your thumb but the tears kept coming, hating that this was what you'd been reduced to. A grieving slut with a gaping pussy.

         "I miss Mark." You'd never said it, even before the desert. Before you would have lashed out at the suggestion it but you'd been beaten down by the sun and withered by grief. You were a shell of who you used to be. Longing to be that person again but you couldn't be, not out here. A sob ripped from your throat.

        Tracksuit didn't reach out. Didn't know if he should or not. His casual flings cried sometimes, but he usually had the option to just fly away before they got sappy on him. He couldn't really leave because this was technically his house, his camp. Plus, he kind of, sort of liked you a little more now after you made him cum twice. Enough to think he should be a little less of a douche to you. You had been trapped for two weeks, had just lost you kind of boyfriend. He wracked his brain for something nice to say. "You like... are like... really-" He'd always been bad at being earnest. "-Not a bitch at all, I was just kinda mad earlier." That was a start.

        "Is that seriously how you talk to women?" The voice made you both bolt upright. Sand stuck to the sweaty backs of your clothes.

        Markus's frame eclipsed the doorway, casting a cool shadow over you. Mask on to protect his face from the UV, to protect you from seeing the betrayal in his eyes. 

        "Shit, dude." Tracksuit yanked up his zipper. "Don't kill me but also learn to knock? Seriously, don't kill me."

        "If I wanted you dead, you would be." Markus deadpanned. "I've been waiting for you two to finish."

        You moved for your pants. Markus was a red-white flash. Suddenly, you were sat down, pants on, wiped dry (much as he could) between the legs by a rag Markus threw into the wastes. You stared up at him, heart beating erratically, even your tank top was fixed back in place.

         "I don't want you to look as indecent as you must feel." He said as his attention turned to Tracksuit, who was in fighting stance, ready to be attacked. But Markus didn't lunge. "That was a stupid idea."

        "Yeah, cuz you're gonna kill me." Tracksuit tried smiling but it didn't reach his eyes- so close in hue to Markus's, to mom's. 

        Markus ignored him and his tense muscles. "(Y/n) is under deep emotional duress. She is in no state for intimate relations."

        "Intimate relations?" Tracksuit scoffed. "You mean fuckin'?"

        "Obviously."

        The more time Tracksuit went by without his head being mashed into a pulp, the more he relaxed, but never completely. Markus could pull a Maskless any second. "If you haven't noticed, we're all stuck in a fuckin' desert bro, we're all under 'deep emotional durress', so yeah, I'm gonna need to relax a little."

        Markus wanted to snap his neck. For fucking you, sure, but his voice, his manner. So childish, so unrefined. What he could've been had father not been so cruel in molding him into the perfect hero.

        "A few months in the desert is nothing." He said, "As Viltrumites we can survive much longer without food or water. You would know had you ever had any hardship." Days in the closet. No food. No water. No light. Just him, the darkness, and the coats pressing in.

        "Bitch, I moved outta my parents place and roughed it for years. Oh and-" He pointed to his face, exposed to Markus for the first time. His nose bridge was permanently knocked to the right. "I didn't have it easy with daddy-dearest like you did. He'd beat the shit out of me, no fuckin' time out. Like, matching costumes, man, for real? How often do you two go on daddy-daughter dates, huh?"

        Markus's jaw ticked at the way you watched them both. Catching a flash of concern for Tracksuit at his jab. He couldn't kill the fucker, you cared about him now, clung to him like you had Mark. It'd only set back your relationship. 

        "I suggest you be quiet, Mark." The name came out low, a warning from Markus's lips that made Tracksuit almost flinch. 

        "You sound just like him." Tracksuit half-laughed. "That's fucking crazy, dude. Like, actually insane."

        "I won't warn you again, Mark."

        "Okay, first of all, I never went by that stupid ass name," Tracksuit said. Dad picked it. He hated dad. Hated mom too but a little less, "Went by Seb. You know, like, Sebastian." 

        "I'm aware of our middle name."

        "Cool. Well, if you're gonna 'dad' me, at least get the name right. Or don't maybe. Seriously, you're freaky as fuck, dude. Quit it with the dad voice and the dad outfit and the dad lecture-" Tracksuit threw his hands up then down. "Whatever. It's weird! You're weird!"

        Markus's lips twitched stiffly down. He even frowned like dad. "Father must've only lectured you if you're like this."

        "Uh, my broken nose, hello?"

        "That's nothing." Markus took a proper step into the room. Sand dusting up around his boot. "Do you want to see what my Father would do to me for acting like this?"

        You're up on your feet. Legs and back aching. Embarrassed, vindicated, but having seen enough macho bullshit.

        "I came onto him." You admitted fast. 

        Markus's eyes slide to you under the dark glass. "I could tell. I thought you were better than this. I told you to wait until you felt better." 

        It hurt. Almost felt like your actual parent was disappointed in you. You lashed out, "I thought you hated your dad for what he did to you. Why the fuck are you acting like him now?"

        There were still tears in your eyes, but Markus didn't miss a beat. "I hated him, but you both are acting like children."

        Another shadow crossed into the room. Gray hovered in through a busted window, wearing an expression that gave nothing away.

        Tracksuit threw up his hands, "Uh-oh! Mommy's here to yell at us too!"

        You snickered at that because it felt good to be a bitch. To feel like you and Tracksuit were on the same page, friends again at last. 

        "We have a guest." Gray said.

        ***

        Mohawk remembered vaguely where Maskless and Tracksuit held up. He wanted to warn them because they were alright. He liked them better than those pretentious dickheads because they didn't slobber over you. He didn't truly care for Maskless and Tracksuit, he just wanted help taking Lensless and Scars down. It was only a matter of time till they went after someone else then someone else, picking them off one by one. If Mohawk wanted to live, he needed to buddy up. Kill them and eat them. Not the other way around.

        Seeing that tent outside the concrete ruin surprised him but to hell with the dislike, he thought. The more the merrier. 

        Gray intercepted his landing in the sky, asking why he was there. Mohawk explained in a frazzled frenzy. Mohawk had some of his head on but it wasn't screwed tight. That's what drinking blood and eating raw flesh did to a guy after two weeks. He could only imagine how batshit Lensless and Scars were since they really, really liked the taste where Mohawk... could only admire it a tad. 

        Gray wanted to talk longer in the sky. Steer Mohawk toward the tent so he could fetch the others, conveniently leaving you in the ruins with orders to stay put. Gray didn't trust him a bit. If anybody was going to snap next, it'd be Mohawk. Perhaps once the job was done, he could be eliminated.

        Despite everything, Mohawk was quicker with him. Fueled by desperation and annoyance at the idea of waiting a second longer to launch an attack. He touched down. Gray only had seconds to warn the others and hope they had the sense to hide you.