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unabashegirl · 1 day ago

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Crave — part V

Y/N x Professor Harry Styles share a secret passion that could destroy them both. Crossing the line means risking everything.

Author's note: Hello, lovelies! Sorry it took me a bit to post — there have been lots of festivities lately, especially over the weekends! I'm currently visiting my mom in the U.S., and with the Fourth of July coming up this weekend, I'm trying to squeeze in as much writing as I can before Friday so you'll all have something to read 💛 I also want to make sure I get to enjoy some quality time with my mom! Anyway, let me know what you thought about Crave — I love hearing your reactions! ✨

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📌 crave's masterlist -> x

Y/N tried to go through her classes like normal, immersing herself in her work and in the day-to-day rush of campus life. But every time she caught a glimpse of Harry—or even thought she saw him in the distance—her heart would skip, and she’d immediately turn the other way. She’d been so convinced, for that brief, reckless moment, that what they shared had meant more. The memory of his touch, his warmth, lingered like a shadow, making it impossible to forget.

It was humiliating to think she’d allowed herself to believe that they could be more than just professor and student, that he might have seen her as more than a momentary slip, a mistake. She kept her head down in class, choosing a seat at the far back and barely looking up as he lectured, determined to keep her emotions hidden. She felt embarrassed, not just by what had happened but by her own feelings—by the fact that she wanted him, that she had let herself hope for something impossible.

And every time she thought of him, she couldn’t help but feel the sting of his final words. It had meant something to him, he’d said, but the line he’d drawn between them now felt unbreakable, as though he was warning her to let go.

It was a cold, gray Thursday afternoon, and Y/N was buried in her notebook, lost in an attempt to stay ahead of her assignments and keep her mind occupied. She’d almost forgotten the bitter cold creeping through the air when Liv’s voice pulled her back to reality, accompanied by the rush of footsteps closing in.

“Y/N!” Liv called, breathless and flushed from running across campus. She skidded to a stop beside her, panting heavily, eyes wide with a mix of excitement and disbelief. “Oh my god, have you heard the news?”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by her friend’s urgency. “What are you talking about?”

Liv caught her breath, leaning forward with hands on her knees for a moment before standing up straight. “Professor Styles. He… he quit,” she managed, watching Y/N’s reaction closely. “Apparently, he’s leaving before the semester ends. Right now, he’s packing up his office.”

Y/N felt a strange, hollow sensation bloom in her chest as Liv’s words settled in. The world around her felt like it had tilted slightly, leaving her off-balance. He was leaving.

The words echoed in her mind, a relentless hum that drowned out everything else. He was leaving. She tried to keep her face neutral, but a spark of panic clawed its way through her chest, tightening with each passing second.

“Are you sure?” Y/N finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Liv nodded, looking at her with a sympathetic frown. “Yeah, I heard some of the other students talking about it, and then I saw him through his office window. He looked… busy, like he was packing up everything.” She placed a hand on Y/N’s arm. “I know he was your favorite professor. This sucks.”

Y/N could only nod, the hollow ache in her chest deepening. Her feet felt like lead, rooting her to the spot as she struggled to absorb what Liv had said. She couldn’t process it—couldn’t believe he’d actually leave. A surge of helplessness filled her as she thought of all the times she’d tried to catch his gaze, to at least get some closure or understand what he felt, only to be met with a carefully blank expression, a polite distance that seemed to stretch further each day.

“I—I have to go,” Y/N murmured, more to herself than to Liv.

Liv’s brows shot up, surprise flickering across her face, but she didn’t question it. She simply nodded. “Go on. If you need anything… let me know, okay?”

With a final, encouraging squeeze on her arm, Liv stepped back, letting Y/N make her way across campus. Each step felt heavier than the last as she neared his office, the cool air biting at her cheeks. Her mind raced with a thousand unspoken questions, a litany of what-ifs that hung in the air between them. She knew this was her only chance—if she didn’t go to him now, she’d regret it forever.

Finally, she reached his office door, slightly ajar, a glimpse of his familiar workspace now littered with boxes and the remnants of what had once made it feel like his space. Harry was there, moving through the small room in focused silence, packing books into a box with a quiet efficiency. He looked… different, a heaviness in his movements that seemed foreign, unnatural.

Y/N knocked softly on the doorframe, the sound barely audible over the hum of the building. He turned, surprised, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in what felt like an eternity. For a brief second, something flashed in his gaze—a mixture of regret, longing, maybe even pain—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his familiar guarded expression.

“Y/N,” he greeted her, his voice calm but distant. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Y/N swallowed, her throat tight, every ounce of practiced composure unraveling as she stepped into his office. The space looked so foreign with the bare shelves, the emptied drawers, and the half-packed boxes scattered around. She was used to seeing his things carefully arranged, to the quiet warmth that lingered here despite his restrained demeanor. Now, it felt as if the life had been drained from it—like he was erasing himself.

“I just heard… that you’re leaving,” she managed, forcing the words out, though they sounded more vulnerable than she intended.

Harry nodded, his gaze dropping as he placed another book into a box, carefully avoiding her eyes. “Yes, I am. An opportunity came up, and it felt like the right time.” His tone was detached, businesslike, but she could hear the faint edge of something deeper beneath it.

She stepped closer, barely able to keep her voice steady. “You’re leaving before the semester ends…?” She couldn’t keep the ache from her words, and it lingered between them, heavy and unspoken.

His hands paused over the book he was holding, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. For a long moment, he seemed to be fighting with himself, and then he looked up at her, his eyes darker and more intense than she’d ever seen. “It’s for the best,” he replied softly, the words sounding as though he were trying to convince himself as much as her.

The weight of that simple statement settled over her like a stone, and she felt her chest tighten, a mixture of anger and hurt swirling within her. “Is that all?” she whispered, the vulnerability slipping through her voice despite herself. “Just… leaving, what about me?”

His gaze held hers, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Y/N, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he said quietly, almost pleading, though his expression remained controlled. But there was something there—a shadow of the connection they’d shared, the way he had looked at her that night, the way he had held her as though he’d never wanted to let go.

She took a shaky breath, not breaking his gaze. “It meant something to me,” she admitted, the words barely louder than a whisper. She didn’t know if it was foolish or brave to say it, but she couldn’t leave without him knowing. “I thought it did for you, too.”

Harry’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the carefully controlled mask he always wore slipped away, revealing the hint of vulnerability beneath. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking almost… defeated.

“It did mean something, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if admitting it to himself as much as to her. “That’s why I’m leaving. I can’t stay here and pretend it didn’t happen, that it didn’t change… everything.” He swallowed, his gaze fixed on hers, searching her face as if hoping she would understand.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she took in his words. She wanted to argue, to tell him there had to be another way. But the look in his eyes stopped her—filled with regret, with longing, but also with a kind of painful resolve.

“You… you don’t have to leave,” she murmured, the words slipping out, even though she knew the answer. “We could just… figure it out.”

He shook his head slowly, a faint, sad smile tugging at his lips. “You and I both know it’s not that simple. I’d only be putting you in a more difficult position. I’ve already crossed lines I shouldn’t have.” His voice was steady, but there was a tightness in it, an undertone of guilt that twisted the knife even deeper.

Y/N felt a hot surge of frustration and sadness. This wasn’t how she’d imagined things would end—she hadn’t imagined an end at all.

The silence between them thickened, filled with everything they weren’t saying. Y/N’s heart twisted painfully as she stood there, feeling like she was losing something she hadn’t even realized she needed so desperately.

“You’re just going to walk away?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly despite her best efforts to hold it together. She took a step closer, unable to help herself. “After everything, you’re going to leave me here like this, wondering if it was all in my head?”

Harry’s expression softened, his gaze flickering to the floor before returning to hers. “I’m leaving because it wasn’t in your head, Y/N. Because it was real, and if I stay…” He trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words. “If I stay, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep myself from wanting more. And that isn’t fair to you.”

She bit her lip, swallowing down the ache swelling in her throat. “Maybe that’s not your decision to make,” she whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “Maybe I want more, too.”

A flicker of something—hope, perhaps—crossed his face before he clenched his jaw, the struggle evident in his expression. “I know you think that now,” he replied, his voice gentler, but still edged with finality. “But one day, you’ll understand why I’m doing this. And you’ll thank me for it.”

Y/N shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t think I will.”

Harry looked at her, his own eyes bright with something he was trying hard to hold back. He stepped closer, his hand hovering just inches from her cheek as if he wanted to touch her, to hold her one last time, but couldn’t bring himself to break that final boundary. Instead, he let his hand fall back to his side, his voice barely a murmur as he spoke.

“For what it’s worth… you’ve made it impossible to leave without regret,” he said, his voice heavy. “But I don’t know how to stay without hurting you more.”

And with that, he turned, his steps slow and reluctant as he moved back toward his desk, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart splintering into pieces she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to gather again.

The next day, Y/N found herself numb as she walked through the empty campus, feeling the dull ache of Harry’s absence more intensely than she’d expected. She told herself it was better this way, that the clean break would hurt less in the long run. But as she neared his office one last time, something inside her wavered, and she found herself reaching for the door, her fingers brushing the handle before she pushed it open.

The room was bare, the shelves emptied, and his desk cleared, except for a single envelope resting in the center, her name written across it in his careful handwriting.

Her heart pounded as she reached for it, her hands trembling slightly as she unfolded the note.

Y/N,

I find it strange, writing this to you when I could have said it out loud, but some things are easier to say when you don’t have to watch the person they’re meant for look back at you.

Leaving wasn’t a choice I wanted to make, but it’s the only one that feels right. You deserve someone who can give you every part of themselves without restraint, who isn’t haunted by lines they’ve crossed or rules they’ve broken. I may have been reckless, but please don’t mistake that for regret. Knowing you, being close to you… those are the moments that will stay with me. They’ve already become memories I hold close, though I had no right to make them with you.

You are fiercely intelligent, maddeningly captivating, and you possess a lightness that I never meant to shadow. It’s not goodbye, because a connection like ours doesn’t disappear. I’ll carry you with me, as a quiet ache and an unforgettable truth.

Take care of yourself, Y/N. You are remarkable.

—Harry

As she read his words, her heart twisted. They captured everything he hadn’t said, and everything she had wanted to believe in.

Y/N read the letter over and over, her heart twisting with each line, his carefully chosen words both a balm and a wound. She could picture him sitting at that very desk, pen in hand, struggling over each sentence, the way he always did when something mattered to him.

The ache he left behind wasn’t just from his absence—it was from knowing he felt as deeply as she did, yet still chose to walk away. She slipped the note back into the envelope and held it tightly as she walked back to her dorm, trying to ignore the quiet hope that told her this couldn’t be the end.

The following days were filled with a strange emptiness. She went to class, pretended to listen, and tried to focus on her studies. But her thoughts kept circling back to him, to the mornings she’d glance at the door, half-expecting him to walk in with his usual calm and a quiet look in her direction. His absence felt like a physical space, one she kept accidentally stumbling into.

One chilly afternoon, as she sat by the library window with her textbooks, she caught sight of his office door across the courtyard. Her heart squeezed at the sight, knowing it was someone else’s now, that his papers, his books, his scent were all gone. She thought about going in, just once more, but she couldn’t bring herself to face that emptiness.

But just as she turned back to her books, she noticed a familiar figure walking across the courtyard. Her heart nearly stopped—it was him.

Y/N’s heart stuttered as she watched Harry stride across the courtyard, hands in the pockets of his coat, head down as if deep in thought. It was surreal, seeing him so suddenly when she’d nearly convinced herself she’d never see him again.

Without another thought, she gathered her things and hurried outside, her pulse racing as she tried to catch up. She called his name, her voice barely above a whisper at first, but loud enough to reach him in the quiet of the late afternoon. He slowed, pausing, then turned to see her approaching. His eyes softened as they landed on her, but there was a guardedness to his expression, a hesitation that tugged at her heart.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite place. He looked as if he’d been bracing himself for this moment, yet it still seemed to catch him off-guard.

For a moment, they just stood there, an unspoken tension weaving between them. She took a steadying breath, trying to gather her thoughts, but everything she’d rehearsed melted away now that he was in front of her.

“Why did you come back?” she asked finally, her voice barely a murmur, as if saying it louder would make him disappear.

Harry looked down, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Loose ends,” he said, almost to himself, before meeting her gaze again. “There were things I hadn’t finished… or things I thought I could leave behind.”

She swallowed, a spark of hope stirring within her, but she kept her expression steady. “Like what?”

He glanced around, as if searching for the right words. “Like you,” he admitted quietly. His gaze was intense, fixed on hers, and in that moment, she felt every unsaid thing between them ripple to the surface, like a wave threatening to pull her under.

A shiver ran down her spine at his words, but she held herself still, her heart pounding wildly. “Then why did you leave?” she whispered, unable to keep the ache from her voice.

Harry exhaled, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Because I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said, his voice strained. “But sometimes isn’t about doing what is right, but what feels right.” He stepped closer, just enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him, his gaze searching hers. “Should we try again?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, a flicker of disbelief mixed with the hope that had refused to fade. Without a word, she nodded, feeling that if she spoke, the spell would break. And for a moment, they just stood there, the world quiet around them, holding onto the fragile hope they’d both found their way back to.

Harry stepped closer, the intensity of his gaze sweeping over her, as if he were drinking in every detail—the curve of her smile, the way her eyes sparkled with uncertainty yet hope. “I’ve never wanted anything more,” he admitted, his voice steadying, grounding her in the chaos of emotions swirling between them.

She took a hesitant step forward, her heart racing as he mirrored her movement. The air around them thickened with a familiar tension, the kind they had danced around for so long.

“Then show me,” she challenged, a teasing lilt creeping into her voice, emboldened by the depth of what they both knew they wanted. “Show me that you’re serious about this.”

With a grin that sent shivers down her spine, Harry closed the gap between them, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, grazing her skin, and she felt a jolt of electricity pass through her.

“Here?” he asked, his voice low and husky, eyes darkening with desire. “Or somewhere more… private?”

“Somewhere more private,” she whispered, heart racing, anticipation dancing on the edge of her thoughts.

With a shared glance that spoke volumes, they turned and walked away from the familiar, hand in hand, stepping into a world that felt both new and achingly familiar. The campus faded behind them, replaced by the promise of uncharted territory—together, this time, no walls between them.

let me know what you think! i really hope you liked it!

TAGLIST: @cathy-1997, @vaseoftulips, @emmie2308, @lichi-dunkera, @s-280526, @sstylezzz, @ciriceimpera, @valeriiyuhh

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childrenofthelightcomic · 2 days ago

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Children of the Light- Chapter 7, Page 1 Welcome back! Children of the Light updates Mon/Wed/Fri for July! At this point in the story, I recommend reviewing the comic's Content Warnings. Stay safe, and please enjoy! Next > Start Reading Content Warnings If you like memories, please consider supporting me on Patreon!

#comic #original comic #webcomic #graphic novel #spirit #light spirit #forest spirit #squirrel #flying squirrel #chipmunk #children of the light comic #autism #schizophrenia #neurodivergent #dark spirit #shadow spirit #chapter 7

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simmerandwrite · 2 days ago

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surface tension (part 1) - highway

Pairing: mechanic!Bucky Barnes x reader

Series summary: When your fuck buddy Billy Russo won’t come to your rescue, the grumpy mechanic Bucky will. And it turns out, as is inevitable in your small town, you and Bucky may already be intertwined.

Chapter summary: You really needed new tires. You find out the hard way. But luckily, Bucky Barnes and a towtruck come to your rescue.

Content warning: general fuckboy warning (Billy Russo), mentions of alcoholic parents, divorce, getting together, a meet cute that is more awkward than cute

Wordcount: 4k

Notes: thank you for reading!!!! please enjoy this grumpy, awkward Bucky with an equally awkward, uncertain reader. but reader is working on herself!!! three parts planned for this one :)

Series masterlist

---

You were due for a bad day. Things had been going almost too smoothly for you lately, so the surprise flat tire felt like the universe evening things out.

A flat tire you could handle. There was a compressor hiding in the back storage shed at the office and you were more than competent enough to put air in it. When you came back at the end of the workday to find it flat again – you knew it was probably done for.

So, a few phone calls, some annoyingly helpful advice from your mother’s husband and the rest of your freedom money later – you returned to the auto-shop down the street from your work to retrieve your tire.

It took everything in you to open that shop door. You prayed to the universe to throw you a bone and have someone new at the front desk. To his credit, the guy who helped you out earlier that morning had been very nice. But you didn’t want to face him again after you cried about the whole situation.

Crying. Over a stupid rubber circle.

God, what was wrong with you?

Luckily, the handsome blond was not behind the desk. An eager young teenager named Peter helped you out, then said someone would bring your tire out.

You stood outside your car, waiting to open the hatch. In your pocket, you could hear your phone buzzing occasionally. Likely just follow-up texts from your mother about when you were heading to her house.

Across the parking lot, a side door to the garage opened. Holding your tire with one hand, like it weighed nothing, was an alarmingly attractive man. You blinked a few times as he walked towards you, momentarily distracted and confused because how was he real? Did this shop have a policy about only hiring male models?

Maybe you were going to cry again – because you got to see Adonis in a full jumpsuit. You really needed to get it together.

He didn’t say anything as he walked towards you, though you did hurry to open the back of your car, so he’d have somewhere to put the tire.

“Thank you,” you mumbled out as he placed it in. Once his hands were free again, he took a step back, tilting his head to look at your car.

“You need new tires,” he said simply, stepping to the side to look at your front end.

“Yes, that’s why I got—”

“All your tires. The tread here is practically gone. It’s not safe. One rainstorm and you’ll be sliding out.”

“My budget kind of only permits one car emergency every few months..”

“Steve said you told him you have someone who can install your new tire?”

Ah, Steve. The polite gentleman who handed you a tissue earlier.

“Yes, my mom’s husband. He’s a car guy but obviously couldn’t seal the rim to the tire so..”

“Well, tell your stepdad he should move your back tires to the front and put the new one on the back instead.”

“Not my stepdad,” you interjected, following the man around your car. He was crouched down and feeling the tread on your back tires. “Sure, yeah, he married my mom, but the dude has only been around for a few years and certainly never parented me. So, he retains the title of my mother’s husband out of politeness when truthfully, I’d rather just call him the piece of shit who drinks too much.” You let out a long breath, closing your eyes. “Sorry, that was.. I will let him know. Thanks for the advice.”

The man stood up again, sweeping a hand through his hair before he walked towards the front of your car again. “Your bumper is barely hanging on.”

“Yes, well, that’s also not in my budget. My insurance company made me go to that godawful place on Roosevelt to get it fixed after an accident and I swear they put it on wrong but when I went back there they blamed me and quoted me another 2k to fix it. So. That duct tape solution is gonna have to do.”

You almost missed it, but the man’s jaw ticked slightly. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Listen, if the ‘piece of shit who drinks too much’ can’t put that tire on, bring it back here, and we’ll do it. Or if you want a new quote for this.” He tapped your bumper with his boot. It shook probably too much. “It won’t cost two grand, I promise.”

“Well, thanks..” You finally looked at his jumpsuit, where a name was embroidered across his chest. “..Bucky. That’s a nice offer. But every time I go anywhere with my car, some know-it-all man has something condescending to me and I never know if I can trust them.”

“You can trust me.” His reply was so simple and earnest. Admittedly, there was something about him and his coworkers inside that made you feel like perhaps they weren’t trying to hose you for all your money. “Here.” He handed you his business card, where he had scrawled out a phone number on the back. Then, he nodded and turned to head back to the garage.

“Bucky?” You called after him, taking a step forward. “Thanks. And also, tell your coworker thank you too. He was very patient when I was crying this morning.”

The corners of Bucky’s mouth curved upwards into a small smirk. “I will let him know. Have a good day.”

–

“Well, it’s not my fuckin’ fault you turned down the same highway you always do and seemed to forget how to drive.”

You didn’t want to cry again, and yet…

“The game just started. I can’t leave. I’ve got a huge stack riding on this.”

With a steady voice, you tried to reason. “Billy, please. Both the tow truck places I called can’t make it for hours and—“

“I’m not sure what you expect me to do about this?”

You wish you had been fast enough to tell him off before he hung up on you. Fuck. Sure, you and Billy weren’t dating - this was a situationship at best, though you knew he’d describe it simply as ‘occasional fuck buddies’ or maybe ‘friends with benefits’.

But even friends wasn’t an accurate term.

Because surely a friend would at least help you out when you slid off the road in the rain in the middle of fucking nowhere. Were you that naive to think he actually cared enough to help you when you were in distress?

You grumbled and smacked your steering wheel. Your cousin Leo wasn’t much help either but you gave him some grace at least. He was working and recommended a tow truck company. That didn’t work out but he did more for you in a few texts than anything Billy said.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you dropped your phone into the passenger seat and gave yourself a few moments to just breathe. You were safe, you were dry. You could figure this out. Sure, it was raining, and you had skidded off the road – just like the guy at the shop said. And now you were stuck, but at least you were somewhere with a cell signal.

Wait. The guy at the shop.

Bucky.

You fished around through the pile of receipts and other things you abandoned in your cup holder, retrieving the business card from the garage.

Truthfully, you had thought about your interactions with Bucky since last week. Although he had been perfectly kind and professional, something about your conversation had been bothering you. He barely managed to make eye contact. You usually didn’t take that personally but for some reason, it had seemed strange.

You ran your finger along the edge of the card. It was a shot in the dark, considering they didn’t have a 24 hour service number listed. But he had scrawled another number down, so that seemed promising.

Worst case scenario he didn’t answer. Or he answered and offered no help. Your situation wouldn’t change, really. So, you decided that sure, fuck it. You’d call.

After two rings, you heard a voice on the other end. “Hello? This is Bucky.”

“Ah, hi. Hi, it’s uhm..” You gave your name, first and last. “You might not remember me, at the shop the other day – I had a tire and the—”

“The taped-on bumper.”

“Right. Yes.” You sighed. “Sorry to call you so late – I know you guys don’t do emergency service, but do you know any tow truck companies or—” You didn’t mean to yelp when a crack of thunder sounded out, but apparently your body wanted to betray you. “Fuck.”

For some reason, his tone shifted. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

You laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’m just.. I did in fact slide off the road because of my shitty tires so.. I think I have another flat and I’m definitely stuck in some mud. I’m off Hawkeye Road, past the highway turnoff. I called Crawford Towing but they quoted me a three hour wait. Thought I could ask around..”

You swore you heard him grumble now. Christ, you had clearly ruined his night with your phone call. “You know what, sorry I called. I’ll just wait—”

He said your name before you could finish. “Sorry, that was frustration over Crawford. They’re useless. I have, uh.. I know someone with a tow truck. Would you mind sharing your location with me?”

“Oh. Uhm.” You considered his question. Okay, yes, you didn’t know him. But you knew where he worked and you’d have to share your location with a tow company anyway. You went to your phone location services and shared. “Alright.”

“Thanks. Stay in your car. I’ll text you with an ETA.”

Bucky knew you from somewhere. He just couldn’t pinpoint it. There was something about your face and your inflection. It had lingered with him ever since he had delivered your tire to the parking lot.

He knew it wouldn’t have been appropriate to look into your customer file for his own personal curiosities so he tried to let it go. And yet, you crossed his mind again and again. It didn’t help that he found you particularly nice on the eyes, too.

Even though giving you the business card and his phone number felt like an unnecessary move, something in him hoped you might have reached out. Actually, given the state of your car and wheels, he had been more than hopeful. At the end of the day, helping ensure their customers were safe was the most important value of their work. Your car definitely needed some work just to come up to proper safety standards.

And when you called, in the middle of a rainstorm on a Friday night, his stomach had twisted with concern.

Bucky had been in the middle of binging through some new historical tv series, his cat Alpine curled against his lap, when you called. And two additional phone calls later, he was headed your way with a tow truck from Wilson’s.

Sure, it meant Bucky owed Sam a few favours now, but he didn’t mind.

The rain let up enough for the road conditions to clear, though it was still drizzling. When Bucky finally pulled up ahead of your car, very stuck close to a ditch, under a struggling streetlight, he hoped it would be a quick and easy job.

Bucky got out of the truck, popping open an umbrella as he walked towards your car. Your guess had been right - you had another flat and your back tires had gotten stuck in a particularly bad mudded area. But, he’d get you out.

He walked to your door, grabbing the handle to open it.

“Hey.” He extended his hand to help you out. You blinked twice before taking it, grabbing your purse as you stepped out.

“Do you need help with the–”

He shook his head, motioning to the front of the truck. “Go wait in the cab.”

Bucky gave you the umbrella too. When you tried to protest, he insisted. “Thank you.”

After he saw you climb up safely into the truck, he adjusted the hood of his raincoat and got to work.

It wasn’t easy to diagnose your car in the dark evening light but the flat tire was clear enough. And if he had to guess, you might have thrown your alignment off too. He rigged the car up to the chain system and slowly eased it into place on the back of the tow truck.

Once your car was secured, he returned to the driver’s side door. You gasped when he opened it, tightly gripping your phone.

“You alright?” He asked. “Is it warm enough in–”

“Can I see your wallet?” You cut him off with your question, eyes blinking as he sat back.

Bucky pulled down the hood of his jacket and closed the door, head turned towards you. “Sorry - what?”

You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes. “I just need to see your license, actually. Not the whole wallet.”

“Need to?”

“I just..” You let out the breath you were holding. “My cousin is insisting. If I don’t text him updates, he’ll freak out and assume I’ve been murdered and.. We watch a lot of Criminal Minds together. He just wants to know who I’m getting into a truck with.”

Bucky blinked a few times as he took in your words. Christ, he wasn’t any kind of predator and prided himself on his customer service and hard work. Your request was kind of ridiculous but… harmless, he supposed.

“Okay.” He just shook his head and pulled out his wallet. Once he retrieved his license, he handed it to you. “Sure.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, taking it and quickly snapping a photo. “I mean it, thanks. For… doing this. I didn’t think you’d be the one driving the tow truck.”

“We work closely with Wilson’s,” Bucky said, returning his license and wallet back to his pocket. “I’m going to just take this to the shop. Unless you had somewhere else to drop the car?”

“No, uh..” You finished sending a text then turned your attention back to him. “I have no plans or thoughts about what happens next so. If you guys can fix whatever is wrong… your shop is good.”

Bucky started the engine up again and pulled off back onto the road. “Do you live out here?”

You looked out the front window. “Oh, no. I was just coming back from.. Over in Cambridge, watching a movie. At their old movie theatre, the Paramount”

“Sci-fi Fridays?” Bucky asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as you looked in his direction. “Wow, I didn’t think anyone else in town knew about that. You-” You cut yourself off.

“Don’t seem like the type?” Bucky filled in again. “What was playing tonight?”

You seemed hesitant to answer but you pushed through. “Tonight was uh, THX 1138. It was okay, not a new favourite for me but had really cool visuals.”

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but you kept going.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… judge, or anything. I’m not some, like, gate keeper of sci-fi movies or.. Yeah, sorry. Why wouldn’t you be familiar? I hate when people judge me for it and yet..”

Bucky noted how you trailed off, typing feverishly into your phone before sighing. You muttered something under your breath but he couldn’t quite catch it.

There was a reason he usually exclusively worked in the back of the shop - customer service wasn’t his forte. Sure, he loved to talk but sometimes he didn’t know what else to say.

A few moments passed. The only sound in the vehicle came from the tinny radio and windshield wipers.

Then, you spoke up again. You were looking at the photo of his license. “Wait. James Barnes. Are you Becca’s brother?”

—

James Barnes. Of course. Had you really forgotten what it was like to be back in your home town? Where everyone seemed to be connected?

You had played on the same soccer team as Rebecca Barnes when you were a kid. Then, you had crossed paths again in high school. A friend of yours had dated a friend of hers and well, that was just how friend groups overlapped.

Despite time and distance, you had kept up a digital friendship with Becca. It wasn’t much but occasional memes and Instagram conversations had helped you maintain a relationship over the years.

“You know Becca?”

Bucky replied without looking your way. Smart, considering the ever changing state of the highway ahead of you.

“Yeah. From years ago now. We played soccer together when we were younger.” Nostalgia hit you like a wave. Then, the tidal wave of shame washed over you too.

You sucked in a breath. No, no. You were working on this. You powered through.

“The Bluebirds?” Bucky asked, finally glancing your way.

You smiled, mostly to yourself. “Yes. I wasn’t very good - not fast or agile or… anything. But your sister was so nice to me. We all had to play goalie once or twice and I was so bad. I cried after the third goal went in. And Becca played defense just to hang out with me. She made being a Bluebird fun.”

You gulped, eyes squeezed shut. “Your mom always used to wait with me when my parents were late to pick me up. She even drove me home a few times.”

Now that the memories were coming back, you remembered that sometimes Becca’s older brother would be sitting in the back of the van, too.

Bucky nodded slowly. “Did you - did we all go for ice cream together once? I remember some sort of milkshake incident—”

“Milkshake explosion?” You couldn’t help but laugh. That was a warm memory. You and Becca decided to mix your milkshakes to form some sort of ‘super chocolate’ creation and made a huge mess. The laughter had filled you both up more than the milkshake.

“I learned that day why my ma always keeps an extra towel in the car.” Bucky was grinning now and truthfully, it was kind of mesmerizing. “Do you, uh, still play?”

“Soccer? Oh, no. Definitely not. My career started and died as a Bluebird.” Power through. “My parents officially divorced around that time so things went a little… off the rails.”

The rain started coming down harder again and you both fell into silence. You were grateful for the rain - because it felt like perhaps you had overshared.

Your phone buzzed in your hands. Billy. You mumbled out a sideways apology to Bucky then answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“What?”

“Frank said he’d come pick you up.”

“I’m already in a tow truck, Billy. So tell him thanks but–”

“Okay, well, excuse me for trying to help. Christ. Are you coming over tonight at least?”

You sighed. “I’m not sure how you expect me to do that when my car is literally on a tow truck right now.”

“Well, that fucking sucks. I wanted to see you.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. That was code for ‘I want to have sex’ despite him trying to sugarcoat it.

Why did you do this to yourself?

Chewing on your lip, you continued. “You can come over to my place?”

“I guess. Are you gonna be bitchy if I don’t stay the night?”

Chist, you didn’t want to deal with him any longer. “Nevermind. I’m hanging up now, Billy.” Usually, you were weak and tangled up in your confusing feelings enough to just give in, even when Billy was acting this way. But his asshole attitude was bleeding through too much already.

You shoved your phone into your purse, silenced, then swallowed another sigh. Luckily, it seemed you were getting closer into town and Bucky’s shop.

“Was that Billy Russo?” Bucky’s question barely surprised you, but you still didn’t rush to answer. Your hometown wasn’t particularly big, there was a lot of overlap for who knew who. Plus, the company Billy’s family owned and your place of employment, Anvil Construction, was very well known across the county.

Slowly you turned your head to look at Bucky. He was still looking forward on the road, slowing down at an intersection.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He was just loud.”

“It was.” You sighed. “And he does have a certain unbearable volume at times. How do you know Billy?”

Bucky hesitated - which immediately annoyed you. He was the one who started this conversation. You held back saying anything in response until he replied.

“We, uh, went to high school together.”

Part of you wanted to pry out more information - given that Bucky could identify Billy from hearing his voice through your phone. But, god, what did it matter? You had only been back in town for a year and you were constantly reminded about the dramatics of social circles like this. You didn’t need more information, not now.

Luckily, Bucky was pulling up to the shop.

“I’m going to just leave the truck and your car here until the morning. Then I can assess what’s going on and I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Okay. Thanks. I didn’t think you were open on Saturdays - your website hours said otherwise.”

As he parked the truck and cut off the engine, Bucky rolled his eyes. “Our website is very out of date.”

“No kidding. It looks like it was built in 1999. It would be really easy to upgrade the whole interface. You could actually even add in a widget that lets people book appointments on the spot, with an itemized list of..” You trailed off. That was enough. You really had to reign yourself in. “Sorry - I just.. Work in digital marketing, so..”

Bucky laughed, though. It wasn’t mean or judgemental either, but complimentary. “It probably was built in ‘99. I know we could do better.”

You moved from the tow truck to Bucky’s car that was parked nearby. He insisted you use the umbrella again. You paused as you grabbed the door handle. “You know, I can call an Uber if it’s easier. I’m not far.”

“There’s nothing hard about me driving you home. C’mon.”

Bucky’s car was pretty nice - vintage, maybe. It was older than yours but certainly in better shape. He glanced towards you before he shifted into drive. “What’s your address?”

You sighed. “You won’t believe me but it’s 1729 Bluebird Lane.”

“You’re kidding,” Bucky laughed.

“Some twist of fate, I guess. That whole neighbourhood has seriously cute street names though. They must have wanted a rainbow theme. There’s Marigold and Roseway, too.”

Your conversation returned to Becca again. Bucky told you she was working as a nurse now. You mentioned how you had run into her a few weekends ago at a grocery store and how it felt like you immediately picked up where you had left off all those years ago.

“She even invited me to her birthday party next weekend?” You tried to remember what Becca had told you. “Insisted I attend, actually. She said it would be a good, ol’ fashioned house party.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, though you could see his eyes lit up when he talked about his sister. It was kind of charming. You weren’t surprised though - you had very fond memories of feeling a twist of envy about the Barnes family and how they interacted. The way Mrs. Barnes waited with you after all those soccer games - it was a kindness you’d never forget and something you knew your own mother would never replicate.

When your house came into view, Bucky slowed down. When he stopped, you both clocked the black car in your driveway.

“Roommate’s car?” Bucky asked.

You didn’t even have a chance to answer before the owner of the car got out. Billy. You watched as he popped open an umbrella and walked towards Bucky’s car.

As you pushed on the handle, Billy grabbed it from the outside and fully opened the door.

“What’s up Barnes?” Billy greeted Bucky after he said hello to you. “It’s been a while.”

Bucky nodded once. “Russo.”

The energy between them wasn’t lost on you. “Uhm. Well, thanks for rescuing me on the highway and for the drive home, Bucky.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Bucky nodded again then quickly added: “About your car.”

“Right. Thanks again.”

Billy said your name, voice already laced with annoyance. “C’mon. My shoes are soaked.”

Crouched under the umbrella with Billy, you looked back and offered Bucky a final wave as he drove off. He returned it with a small smile then he was gone.

Once you were inside, finally fully safe from the rain, you shrugged off your coat. Billy was doing the same, abandoning his shoes and umbrella on your front porch.

“How do you know Bucky?” You asked.

“We met in high school. Then he married my cousin.”

“He’s married?”

“Divorced now. Huge mess. The guy barely shows his face anymore, thank god.” Billy laughed, then reached for the hem of his shirt. “Enough about Barnes though, are we doing this?”

–

Coming up next: Becca’s birthday houseparty

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #mechanic bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #story: surface tension #simmerandcry #simmerandwrite

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inkpetrichor · 1 day ago

Text

Nasty Dog! | Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

9.- Part nine

masterlist here<3

cw. MDNI. fem! reader. delinquent! reader. use of yn. smoking. cursing. angst. hurt/comfort. TW. dead dove: do not eat. sa/unwanted physical contact (non-consensual kissing). mentions of suicide and sh (past). dissociation (trauma response). emotionally intense arguments. cyberbullying. gossip. malicious photo sharing. violence. pls let me know if i missed anything. wc. 6k an. sooo i hesitated a lot on this one. this chapter is a little heavier. it contains intense and potentially triggering content, and while i worked hard to handle it with care and respect, please take the content warnings seriously. they're there for a reason. if you're not in the right headspace, if anything listed might hit too close—please don't push through just for the story. take care of yourself first. the chapter will always be here when and if you're ready. i trust you, my beloved readers, to approach it with the emotional maturity and self-awareness i know you have. i know you're not minors. i know you're thoughtful, empathetic people. and i appreciate you more than you know. so thank you—for being here, for reading, for caring. i love you. please be gentle with yourselves<3

Shibuya felt wrong that night.

Too quiet.

Or maybe it was just your panic, drowning out the chaos of the city.

Even the noise of cars and neon signs seemed muffled beneath the storm in your head.

When you got to the place, something in your gut twisted. Off. Rotten.

The streetlight above buzzed like a dying insect, casting sickly yellow light onto the damp concrete. The alley smelled of rust and old piss, and your shoes stuck slightly with every step, like even the ground itself didn't want you there.

Junpei leaned against the wall, hoodie up, his face half-sliced by shadow.

No Emi.

Just him. The orange streetlamp carved hard lines across his cheekbones, but his eyes stayed buried in the dark.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Every nerve in your body fired at once.

"Where is she?" you asked, voice sharp and cold.

He looked up slowly. "She's not here."

Your pulse stumbled, then picked up at 100 per hour.

"...What?"

"I lied."

His voice was almost casual. He gave a small, sheepish smile like this was some petty misunderstanding.

"I just... I needed to see you."

Silence. Then a breath that came out too shaken.

"You said she was going to hurt herself."

"I had to get you here," he said like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. "You wouldn't have come if I told the truth."

Your blood ran ice-cold. Something ancient and primal surged up your spine.

The good old fight and flight.

But before you could move, he kept talking.

"I think about you all the time. I see you with that guy and it—it drives me crazy. You're not supposed to be with him. You're mine. You always were."

You took a step back, throat dry.

"You're a fucking psycho."

He stepped forward—and his hand shot out, closing around your wrist.

"I love you," he said. Like that explained anything. Like it was some kind of blessing. Like it was a reason.

Then he yanked you toward him.

His mouth crashed into yours.

Sloppy. Forceful. Wrong.

You froze. Your mind shut down.

You weren't in your body anymore. It was like watching through fogged glass.

Then his other hand gripped your waist, then slid—lower, insistent.

And with that—the glass shattered, and your body was yours once again. Your knee came up in a second. Hard into his stomach.

He let out a choked grunt, doubling over—but you didn't stop.

You punched him once, then twice—fury guiding your fists before the pain even registered in your already injured hand. The sting only hit on the third swing, throbbing through your knuckles.

But that didn't matter.

And neither did his groans as he hit the pavement.

You stood over him, chest heaving and adrenaline shaking your limbs.

"Don't ever fucking touch me again," you spat, wiping the back of your hand across your lips like you could scrub him off.

He didn't move.

But that didn't matter.

You didn't remember the train ride home. Or if you even took it. Didn't remember the streets you cut through. Or unlocking the front door. Just the sound of your lungs burning. The numbness in your legs. The way your skin crawled like it was trying to peel itself off your bones.

It felt unreal. Like a nightmare.

Like maybe it didn't happen. Like maybe you imagined it.

But when you kneeled on the floor of the shower and let the scalding water pour over your back—when you scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin stung raw—you knew the truth:

You didn't imagine it. You couldn't erase it. You couldn't scrub him out. Burn him out. You couldn't speak it aloud.

You tried—you tried to call Kuroo.

But your thumb hovered over his name for too long—imagining his voice. Imagining the way he'd say your name—soft and scared—and something in you fractured.

You couldn't handle the way he'd ask if you were okay. Not when you weren't. You couldn't deal with his voice right now—not the concern, not the gentleness.

So you didn't call him.

Didn't answer the texts that kept piling up.

Didn't open the one that just said, "I'm worried about you. Please say something."

Instead, you curled into your bed, knees tucked tight to your chest, and smoked until your lungs ached and your fingers trembled and the pack was empty.

It didn't help.

The ache behind your ribs didn't fade.

You sat in the haze until the air turned thick with smoke. Until the quiet became unbearable. Until the acid in your chest began whispering lies in your own voice.

Until the shame didn't just sink into your bones—

It became them.

You woke up to the smell of ash and the taste of old smoke in your mouth.

Your throat was dry. Your skin felt tight. Your limbs were too heavy to move like your bones had been replaced with concrete in the night.

You laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember what it felt like—yesterday. The morning before, when you woke up next to Kuroo and everything felt perfect. When you felt happy and full and finally safe.

His breath soft against your neck. His voice still sleep-heavy as he whispered your name.

That morning felt… warm.

Now the sheets were cold. The silence too.

No warmth pressed against your back. No lazy arm slung over your waist.

No heartbeat beneath your ear.

Just you.

Alone.

You showered again. Not because you thought it would help, but because your body needed something to do.

But the water didn't burn this time. You didn't scrub like before.

The weight inside your chest seemed quieter, but not gone.

You felt a little less shocked, a little stronger.

Still, the walk to school felt like something someone else was doing.

Your limbs moved, but you didn't remember telling them to. Your shoes struck the pavement in soft, disconnected thuds. The city was wide awake, but none of it felt real.

You didn't even register arriving at Nekoma's gates—until everything around you shifted.

It started subtle. A shift in the air pressure—stares, side-eyes, a sudden hush that trailed behind you like smoke—sticky, inescapable, impossible to ignore.

And then the whispers.

"Isn't that the girl from the pictures?" "Wasn't she dating the volleyball captain?" "Did she really hook up with Ookami Junpei?" "Apparently they used to be a thing."

Your heart dropped like a stone into a frozen lake.

Pictures?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Once. Twice. Again. A steady pulse of notifications—sharp, demanding, merciless.

You didn't check. Couldn't. Whatever waited on that screen would scrape you raw from the inside out, and there wasn't much left to cut through.

And then—

"Kuroo's looking for you."

The voice barely registered. Familiar, maybe. Yaku? Kenma? It didn't matter. It sounded far away, like someone was shouting through water.

Your limbs grew heavy. The spring air clung to you, too thick, too cold. You were still wearing yesterday's bruises, even if no one could see them.

Every second stretched, unbearable. Until you felt him. Not saw—felt. The unmistakable force of him—barreling toward you like a loaded gun with no safety.

Kuroo.

"Y/N."

Your head snapped up.

And there he was. A storm system making landfall, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscles ticking beneath his skin. His fists were balled at his sides, knuckles white.

And his eyes—God, his eyes— They burned. They weren't just angry. They were wrecked. A wildfire of betrayal and grief burning behind them with nowhere to go.

"Is it true?" he rasped.

His voice sounded raw, like he'd been screaming somewhere else already, somewhere you couldn't see, long before he found you.

It hit harder than any punch.

You felt everything all at once—

Kuroo. Tutoring. Class 5. The beach. Takoyakis your dad bought. Rumors. Emi. Shibuya. A mouth that didn't belong. Water too hot. Skin too raw.

The school gates yawned behind you like the maw of something ancient, waiting to swallow you whole.

"Is it?!"

His voice cracked across the courtyard, slicing it in half.

Some students flinched. Others stared. But most slipped past, sensing the detonation and giving it distance. Soon, it was just you and him.

You stood frozen in the eye of the storm.

"I saw the pictures." His voice was quieter this time, still hurt—but sharp. Like glass underfoot.

You looked away. Couldn't look at him. Not when he was looking at you like that.

"Please tell me you didn't fuck him," he whispered.

The world tilted.

"I didn't." Your voice barely existed. It came out like smoke from a dying flame. It wasn't enough. Would never be enough.

"So you didn't do anything?" he pressed. His voice spiraled, unraveling at the seams. "Nothing?"

You shook your head.

"What about before?" he asked, lower now. "Before we met. Before the tutoring."

Your breath caught—then froze.

And you watched the moment it broke him.

His fingers dug into his hair, yanking like he could tear the thoughts from his skull. Your silence said more than anything you could've uttered.

"Fuck," he hissed, pacing back. Hands dragged down his face. "Fuck. I'm an idiot. I'm a fucking idiot. No wonder you weren't picking up last night."

"Tetsurou—" your voice trembled. "I didn't cheat on you."

"Then what the hell were you doing there?! With him?!"

He whipped around, the sound of his voice so sharp—so hurt—it left invisible gashes down your spine.

The images in his mind were killing him. Junpei's hands. Junpei's mouth. Your silence.

You saw the poison eating him alive. And you had no antidote. You wanted to tell him. God, you did.

But—

"I… I can't tell you."

His whole body stilled.

"What?"

"I can't tell you," you said again, firmer. "It's not my secret to tell. I want to explain—I do. But I can't. I'm asking you to trust me."

A beat of silence.

And then something in him… cooled. Not calmed. Hardened. Like steel cooling too fast.

"I can't."

You felt something crack under your ribs.

"What?"

"I can't," he said again. Quiet. And somehow, that hurt more than yelling. "I tried, Y/N. I really did. But there's just—there's too many holes. Too much evidence. Too many things you didn't say."

He rubbed his face, exhausted.

"You already broke my heart. The beach. Now this... I can't let you do it again—not a third time. I need to get away from you."

He didn't look angry anymore. He looked tired. Hollow.

"Tetsurou, I didn't fucking cheat on you," you choked out again, voice catching on splinters.

He flinched just slightly. Like your voice physically burned him.

He wanted to pull you in. To believe. But when he looked at you—all he saw were the fucking pictures.

His mouth twisted. For a second, you thought he was about to say something cruel, something meant to hurt. His expression wavered between rage and devastation.

But then he exhaled again, lower this time, trembling. And barely above a whisper—so quiet it cracked—he muttered:

"I need space. I can't even look at you right now."

The world stopped turning. The noise faded. The people. The school. Everything. Only him. Only you. And the crumbling space between you where everything good had lived and died.

He meant it as mercy. As a 'I don't want to say something I'll regret.'

But in the moment, that intention didn't really land.

You stared at him. At the boy who once kissed you like he saw your soul. Who held your hand like it meant something sacred.

Now he couldn't even look at you.

And you? You couldn't even cry. Not properly, at least. Your body was too used to swallowing it down.

The ache inside your chest curdled, hardened, and twisted itself into something sharper. Something easier to carry than grief. Hurt turned to fury. Anger calcified into armor.

"You know what?" you whispered, voice brittle. "Fuck you."

Kuroo's head snapped back to you, eyes wide.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. Fuck you. Go ahead. Believe the pictures. Believe whatever you want." Your voice shook, but didn't falter. "I'm a cheater and slut. I'm too much work... I already broke your heart, didn't I? Then leave me."

Every word felt like a bleeding wound. You didn't mean them. You didn't like the knives you were throwing.

But they were the only weapons you had left.

"I have enough shit to deal with already. If you can't trust me... then fuck you."

Silence.

Not stunned. Not even angry.

Just... sad.

He didn't argue. Didn't fight back. He just stood there, breathing like it hurt, like every word you spoke made it worse—and yet still, somehow, he couldn't deny any of it.

The unfairness sat in your chest like a boulder, immovable and cold.

You wanted to punch something. Scream until your throat bled. But instead, you hid. You turned. Walked fast—past the gate, across the grounds, to the corner of the school that always felt safest.

Kuroo let out a breath and turned to leave—when he saw her.

Emi.

Leaning against the wall just out of sight, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Her eyes were hollow—like the light behind them had been long gone.

She'd been there the whole time. Watching. Listening. Invisible.

She didn't look surprised. She didn't even look mad. Just tired.

Like this whole little dance between you two was boring her and hurting her at the same time.

Kuroo barely spared her a glance, a half-lidded look that slid past her like water. He kept walking.

And then—

"It's not true," she said, voice as calm as the smoke she was inhaling. She exhaled through her nose, the faint trail curling upward. Her eyes met his without hesitation.

He half-turned, jaw still tight. "Were you there?"

Her brow arched. She shook her head and took a slow drag.

"Then how do you know?"

"Because I know her," Emi said simply. "I thought you did, too."

That one hit deeper than he expected. His eyes narrowed, but something in his face twitched—like he'd been stabbed in the ribs but was too proud to flinch.

"Do you know what she was doing there, then?"

Emi squinted, tilting her head just slightly.

"I might."

He took a step forward, voice low. "Are you gonna tell me?"

She snorted. "Why do I always gotta do the dirty work for you two? I'm out here carrying the damn plot. How about you actually talk to each other for once?"

Kuroo huffed and turned again, footsteps sharp against the concrete.

And then—

"I tried to kill myself."

Sharp like a blade. Soft like a kiss.

He stopped in his tracks.

Emi stepped forward, already pulling out another cigarette like it was armor. She lit it with practiced ease, took a drag, held it in. When she spoke again, her voice was flat. No sass. No bite. Like she'd hollowed herself to get the words out.

"In junior high."

Kuroo turned back slowly.

Emi rolled up her sleeve.

No flourish. No drama. Just a quiet, deliberate motion.

And there it was.

A scar. One long, brutal line that etched down her forearm and curved around it like a memory too jagged to ever smooth over.

Kuroo winced when he saw it. It physically hurt to look at.

"We went to the same junior high. Y/N and me. Hebinuma too," she began, voice low, like it cost her something. "Y/N transferred in a little late. By then Hebinuma already had her little kingdom. Rumors, isolation, backstabbing—standard queen bee shit."

Emi's gaze drifted skyward, her expression distant, like she was searching the clouds for a version of herself that never made it out of those years.

"I never even knew what I did to deserve it. One day, I just had a target on my back."

Her voice cracked faintly. Not enough to break—but enough to show it still lived under her skin.

You knew she still asked herself that question in the dark.

"But that doesn't matter. What matters is, one day, I broke a mirror and tried to end it."

She didn't flinch as she said it. Didn't rush. Just let it hang.

And then looked him dead in the eye.

"She has the pictures," she said, nodding faintly. Maybe to him. Maybe to herself. "Yeah. From the hospital. And whenever she remembers I exist, she comes back to remind me how easily she could spread them around. Just like she did with those photos of Y/N."

Kuroo's body locked up. Every part of him tensed. His fists clenched at his sides, jaw ticking hard enough to ache.

"We've made her delete them a hundred times. But she keeps backups. Always. Like it turns her on—knowing she can ruin me whenever she wants. That's the kind of bitch she is."

Emi flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette with a hard snap.

"My theory? Junpei probably called Y/N last night and told her I was gonna do something stupid. So of course she ran. Didn't ask. Didn't think twice. Because that's the kind of hot-headed, loyal idiot she is."

A strange kind of fondness edged into a smirk. Something caught between exasperation and admiration. Grudging, protective. Almost proud.

"Then Junpei kissed her—probably just for a second. Long enough to throw her off. Long enough for Hebinuma to get the shot."

She glanced back at him, her gaze sharpening. Her voice dropped.

"And she's good with a camera, you know? Real good. She doesn't need truth. She just needs a good angle."

Her eyes narrowed, deadly calm.

"And people believe her. Always. She could ruin my family with those hospital pics. Just a few lies in the right place and—bam. CPS, scandal, cops. That's how much power she has," Emi muttered, jaw clenched. "Or I don't know. Maybe that's just how fucking terrified I am of her."

She rolled her sleeve back down, the motion careful. Like she was tucking away a confession too sharp to keep showing.

"There. That's the story. Y/N didn't say anything because she wouldn't throw me under the bus to clear her own name—'cause she's stupid like that. So yeah. Now you know. Straight from the source."

She took a long drag. Crushed the butt under her heel with finality.

"You do whatever you want with that information."

Kuroo didn't speak.

He just stood there—stone still, jaw slack, hands flexing uselessly at his sides. Like every word she'd said had short-circuited him.

Then, finally, he breathed.

Ragged. Gutted.

He dragged both hands down his face, hard enough to leave red streaks, then shoved them into his hair and gripped hard—like he needed pain to focus.

"I… I need a second," he managed at last, voice wrecked and low. "I need to think."

Emi shrugged. "Yeah. You do that."

She didn't say it cruelly. Just tired.

"You talk to her or you don't," she added. "But this whole thing where you two run in circles and bleed for it? It's getting old tbh."

And then she stepped away from the wall, exhaling long and slow, and walked past him—past the gates to go find the gang.

You were sitting on the floor in your little hidden spot—knees to your chest, face buried in the soft fabric of your jacket. You weren't crying, not really. But every few seconds, a tremor ran down your spine like your body wanted to sob but your mind refused to let it.

You waited. Waited for the hurt to fade. For the anger to settle. Waited for Kuroo.

Because you knew he'd come.

But the hurt didn't fade. The anger didn't settle.

Instead, the silence swallowed you whole.

You sat there all day—back against the brick wall, eyes on nothing. The afternoon heat clung to your skin, but you didn't move. Didn't cry. Barely breathed.

At some point, our hands stopped trembling. The sting in your chest dulled to a bitter throb, then went cold.

And by the time the sun started to dip low, the version of you who had broken down the night before was long gone.

She'd been replaced by the one you knew how to be.

The angry one. The survivor.

Footsteps crunched across the gravel in front of you.

You didn't flinch. Didn't even look up.

"Took you long enough," you muttered flatly.

Kuroo's voice came out hoarse. Tight. "Had some shit to figure out."

"Yeah. Guess we both did."

Silence. Thin, barbed-wire silence.

Then—

"Emi told me of what happened in junior high."

Your head snapped up at him, eyes wide.

"She said you wouldn't tell me. Said that was the reason you were in Shibuya last night. Why didn't you just—"

"I was protecting Emi," you snapped. "Her secret."

Kuroo scoffed. Dry. Bitter. "Yeah? And where does protecting me fit into that? You know what it looks like? I look like a fool and a cuck to the entire school."

You surged to your feet, heat roaring in your chest.

"You think I wanted any of this?" Your voice rose and trembled, but you didn't back down. "You think I enjoyed getting fucking manhandled and photographed like some piece of meat?!"

His eyes met yours—dark and stormy. Pain flared behind them, not just his but yours too.

"Then why didn't you tell me?" he asked again, quieter now, like he was begging. "Why didn't you trust me?"

You laughed. A dry, hollow sound.

"Please. Like you trusted me the second you saw those photos? You looked at me like I was poison. Like I was already guilty."

He flinched.

"Maybe I should've told you," you said. "But I was scared."

He opened his mouth, paused, then dragged a hand through his hair—rough, frustrated, the strands sticking out in every direction.

"Scared of what?" he asked finally. "Of me?"

"No, idiot!" you yelled, voice breaking. "Of losing you! Of you looking at me like I was broken! Like I was disgusting! Like I wasn't worth fighting for anymore."

You wiped your eyes furiously with the back of your hand, hard enough to sting.

"And congrats," you spat. "You made sure of that real quick."

"That's not fucking fair," he snapped. "You're acting like you didn't give me every reason to doubt you."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you snarled, laughing darkly. "Was getting assaulted supposed to come with a fucking heads-up?"

Kuroo's eyes narrowed, stepping closer.

"That's not what I'm talking about."

You glared at him, daring him.

"You could've told me about him that night at my house. When I asked. Could've told me about Emi," he said. "You hid shit from me over and over. And now I'm the asshole because I hesitated for five seconds after someone handed me proof?"

Your fists curled so tight your nails bit into your palms.

"That wasn't proof. It was a setup. A fucking ambush."

Guilt twisted his face, but anger didn't leave either.

"You made it impossible to trust you!" he snapped. "You put walls around everything that mattered and then got pissed when I couldn't guess what was inside. Made it a goddamn puzzle I wasn't allowed to solve."

You stepped in close, face inches from his.

"Oh, poor you," you seethed. "Did I ruin your fantasy? Was I supposed to wrap myself up with a bow and hand you all the ugly pieces so you could decide if I was still worth it? Show you how fucking imperfect I was so you could come in and fix me? 'Bad girl fixed by the nice nerd guy,' Perfect fucking story, right?"

His jaw tightened, breath sharp. "I didn't want to fix you. I just wanted you to be honest."

"I was trying," you whispered. "I really was. But the second you had to choose to believe me, even if it was hard, the second it stopped being cute—you dipped."

He didn't respond. Couldn't.

"I didn't tell you about Emi because it wasn't my secret to tell. And because she nearly died, and I wasn't there. I couldn't protect her. And I still feel like shit for it."

His face flickered—guilt and shame crawling behind his eyes.

But you didn't stop.

"And you…" You inhaled sharply. "You're mad because of your reputation? Because people think you got cheated on? Is that what matters most to you?"

Kuroo's jaw clenched, but he didn't deny it. Didn't correct you.

"And you looked at me like that," you added, and your voice broke on the last word. "Like I was dirty."

You swallowed hard.

"And I feel dirty. I do. That fucker… he…" your breath hitched, the words came trembling, brittle. "All these punches—and for what? I couldn't even..."

Your eyes dropped to your hands like you resented them. Fists that had flown a hundred times in a hundred fights. That had drawn blood, broken noses.

All the fights. All that training with your dad.

Useless, when it mattered most.

You were the one who always hit first. Who protected everyone else.

But in the end—

You couldn't even protect yourself.

Kuroo's face collapsed. All the anger fell out of him in one breathless second. Guilt replacing it as it swept over him like a tidal wave.

Like he was only now, finally, realizing what those pictures actually meant. What had really happened.

And that he'd believed the camera instead of you.

You saw it hit him. Hard. His eyes widened slightly, like he was seeing it now—truly seeing it—for the first time.

Not the rumor. Not the picture.

You.

His girlfriend. The girl who was looking at her hands like they betrayed her.

"Y/N—" he rasped.

He reached for you, but when his fingers brushed your elbow you shoved it off, stepping back without looking at him.

"Don't." You pulled away. "It doesn't fucking matter anymore. It wasn't a big deal. I don't care."

"You do, though."

You glared at him, jaw tight. "You don't get to tell me how I feel."

"I'm not," Kuroo said, voice rough. "But I know very well what it looks like when you're trying not to feel."

You scoffed and turned away, arms crossed so tight they ached.

"And stop doing that too," he said sharply.

You blinked. "Doing what?"

"That," he snapped. "Pushing it down. Acting like it didn't fucking happen."

Your spine straightened.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

The silence that followed bristled with static.

He stepped closer again. Not enough to touch, but enough for you to feel the weight of him.

"You're doing that thing," he continued, voice low, gentler. "Where you take something that should destroy you and just... shove it into some box and pretend it didn't hurt."

His tone wasn't accusing anymore. It was something softer. Something scared.

"And maybe that's how you survive, I get it. But it's not the same as healing. And if you keep doing it one day it's gonna eat you alive. One day you'll snap, and no one—including you—will understand why."

You looked at him then. Really looked. And for a second, your guard slipped.

Just a crack.

"Then what the fuck do I do?!" You stared at him. Your breath was shaky. "I'm... I don't know how to talk about this shit! I'm so used to swallowing it I forget there's another fucking option!”

He blinked, startled by the admission.

"You cry! Stop locking it up like it doesn't deserve air! Just—fuck—scream if you have to! Just don't shut down like this..."

There was a moment of silence. You exhaled, shaky and slow.

"You know what? Worst part is you're acually right."

Kuroo's face softened. But you didn't let it stay that way.

"But don't think that means I forgive you," you added quickly. "Because I don't. Not yet."

He nodded slowly, voice low. "I don't expect you to."

You turned your face away, arms still crossed, chest still aching—but lighter somehow.

You didn't know how long you stood there, breathing hard in the silence between you two.

The words hung between you like smoke—raw, half-said, unsatisfying.

You could still feel the shape of his hands in the air where they'd almost held you. The anger hadn't gone. The hurt hadn't either.

But under it, something softer stirred. Not forgiveness—not yet.

But something closer to understanding. Or the ache of it.

"I should've told you earlier. As soon as it happened," you muttered. "I do bottle shit up. I always have."

Kuroo looked at you—eyes bloodshot, but steadier now.

"And I should've trusted you," he rasped.

A small, bitter smile tugged at your mouth. "Look at us. Actually communicating."

He huffed a weak breath, something between a scoff and a laugh.

"I think that whole conversation counts, honestly. It's not like we don't communicate we just... Need better methods I guess."

You let your gaze drift down the gravel path, blinking hard.

A sound broke the stillness—a sharp, broken whimper.

You both turned.

And then you saw her.

Emi was walking toward you, eyes dead, lips parted, her grip tight in Hebinuma's hair—fisted hard at the nape of her neck.

Her usually neatly styled, bleached hair was in disarray, her makeup smeared, and her eyes swollen. Blood ran fresh from a cut on her lower lip.

Her expression was hard as she shoved Hebinuma forward, letting go and making her stumble and fall to her knees in front of you.

"Speak! Tell 'em what you told me."

Hebinuma didn't look much better—her nose was swollen, her right eye barely open and already bruising. Her hair was a mess and nail marks raked down the sides of her face and down her neck.

She whimpered, shoulders hunched inward like she could fold herself out of sight. Her hands trembled. When she glanced up, it wasn't at you—it was at Kuroo. Like a cornered rat reaching for a predator's mercy.

"Kuroo-san..." she whimpered, barely audible.

"Speak up, bitch!" Emi screamed, her voice hoarse and shaking with unrestrained rage.

Hebinuma flinched, shrinking inward. But your eyes stayed locked on Emi.

Your best friend, your sweet Emi—who always hung back when fists flew—stood there, seething. You'd never seen her like this before. Blood on her mouth. Fury in her eyes. You'd always taken the hits for her. But now... now she was burning.

When it became clear Hebinuma wasn't going to speak, Emi scoffed, rolling her eyes like she'd stepped in something filthy.

"She did it. All of it," she said, voice clipped and shaking. "She convinced everyone to spread shit about you and Kuroo. She told Junpei to call you so she could take the pictures and spread even more bullshit. The guys are looking for him right now. That motherfucker must be hiding if he knows what's coming. They're gonna beat the shit out of him."

Her shoulders lifted, then sank with a trembling breath.

"I don't know if it'll help, but I made sure her little friends spread the word that it was all a lie."

"Emi..." You surged forward, cupping her face in both hands. She flinched in pain, and your stomach turned. Her skin was hot beneath your fingers, raw around the bruises.

"She landed a good one," Emi said, voice trembling, trying to joke. "Right on the cheek. Gotta give her that." She shot a venomous glance at Hebinuma. But when she looked back at you, something cracked. Her eyes were glossy, her voice small and soft like a kid waking from a nightmare.

"You think it'll bruise?"

"It better not—for her sake." You turned on Hebinuma, baring your teeth. "If you lay another finger on her, I'll fucking kill you. Got that?!"

Kuroo raised a hand like he meant to calm you—but his eyes were wide, locked on Hebinuma's battered face, flicking across it like he couldn't quite make sense of what he was seeing.

"I think Emi already did enough," he muttered.

You sneered, snapping your head toward him. You weren't done with him—not even close—but Emi's gentle hand on your shoulder grounded you, fingers curling just enough to keep you tethered.

"I started it," she said quietly. "I heard her admitting everything to her friends, so I just... yeah. And the fact she'd spread pictures of you getting fucking assaulted is just disgusting. What the fuck is wrong with her?"

Her voice wavered, the end trailing off.

"But I didn't do it just for you. I had to get her at some point, right? I couldn't keep leaning on you for protection... You spoiled me too much..."

"Idiot," you said, voice thick with anger and love. "You can lean on me whenever the hell you want. And fighting on school grounds means suspension. You know that."

"But… you're doing so good now." Her eyes flicked away, guilt bleeding into her bruised expression. "If you fought her, you'd go back to your old class, right? And you'd lose Kuroo too, because he would've thought you cheated, and that you and Junpei were really a thing…"

You glanced at Kuroo. His gaze had softened.

Guilt curled up his spine like a noose. His jaw clenched.

And then—

"Yo, Y/N! Here's the traitor!"

You looked up.

Kenkiba had Junpei by the collar, dragging him across the gravel like trash to be taken out. His face was bloody, lip split and cheek swelling, eyes blinking in and out of consciousness.

The rest of the gang trailed behind, their steps heavy and filled with intent.

Kenkiba's steps slowed when he saw Emi's face. His eyes widened in horror, and he surged forward.

You stepped aside without thinking, letting him rush to her side.

"Emi! Did Hebinuma do this to you?"

"You should see her face," Emi muttered with a weak chuckle. "But I think I twisted my ankle kicking her. It hurts, Kiba~"

He wrapped his arms around her as she sagged into him, the adrenaline finally fading from her limbs.

Behind them, Taiga grabbed Junpei by the scruff, making him stand up, and turned to Kuroo with a grimace.

"It's a lie, man. Y/N would never do you like that."

You waited.

For Kuroo to speak. To agree. Something.

But he'd gone still.

Too still.

His entire body went tight—shoulders locking, chest rising with slow, heavy breaths. His gaze zeroed in on Junpei like a sniper finding his mark.

And then, in a heartbeat, he moved.

Taiga barely had time to step aside before Kuroo's fist obliterated Junpei's jaw with a sickening crack. Junpei hit the ground like a sack of bones, blood spraying across the gravel.

Taiga and Inuzuka lunged, grabbing Kuroo by the arms, but he broke through—rage-fueled, vicious—just enough to land a savage kick to Junpei's ribs.

"IF YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH HER AGAIN, I'LL KILL YOU!" Kuroo roared, his voice raw and shaking with fury.

He thrashed in the guy's grip, a storm given human shape. His face was twisted with a rage you'd never seen on him—feral, gut-deep, personal.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER! TOUCH HER AGAIN, I FUCKING DARE YOU."

"Shit—volleyball nerd is strong, what the hell—" Taiga grunted, half in awe, half in alarm as he struggled to hold him back.

You stood motionless, frozen in place, trembling from the sheer heat of Kuroo's fury. He wasn't the composed, sarcastic genius you knew.

He was rage. Pure and unfiltered.

"Tetsurou-kun."

Inukai-sensei's voice cracked through the chaos like a gunshot.

Taiga flinched and muttered under his breath.

"Holy fuck."

He stepped from the shadows, arms crossed, expression grim.

"Tetsurou-kun, I think that's enough," he said calmly, though his voice carried the weight of command. "No one here wants to see you walk down that path."

He nodded to the boys, and reluctantly, they let Kuroo go.

But he didn't move.

He just stood there—trembling, fists still balled at his sides, sweat dripping from his brow, breathing like he'd just survived a war.

His eyes stayed wide and crazed, locked on Junpei who lay coughing on the ground, like if he looked away for even a second, the bastard would vanish before he could finish the job.

"I think it's safe to say we all have a clear picture of what happened here," Inukai-sensei continued, voice like velvet pulled taut over steel. "But as Y/N said, fighting on school grounds does mean a suspension. I'll take Hebinuma and Shiromaru to the infirmary. Then we'll go to the principal's office."

His gaze softened a shade as it landed on the two of you.

"You two need to talk."

Still, Kuroo didn't speak. Didn't blink.

Just stood there, fury and grief barely leashed under his skin, jaw clenched like he was trying not to break.

Inukai-sensei kneeled to ease a sobbing Hebinuma to her feet and walked off. The gang trailed after him, dragging Junpei's limp body with them.

And just like that—

You and Kuroo were alone again.

Next chapter↪ (coming soon)

tags. @themoreeviltwin @taylordenae @rhea-sylvea @iluvikeu @tgnvhp @adangerousbalance @orphicarchive @tammytaamm @iluvmusicxoxo @rvm1ne @kuzoq @espressocandies @ashley95943734 @jayathelostdragon @kyokoyya @crystal-lilac @kuzuven0208 @lblackwood @evilari111 @chaoticotaku @uekarashi @talia-the-gemini

#haikyuu #hq fanfic #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #hq #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #nekoma #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro haikyuu

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rose-icosahedron · 1 day ago

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Mha Unshattered: (Late) Pride Illustration (1-A)

(and logistics)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

This was supposed to be for (queer) pride month. Ehhhhh close enough. I promise the disability pride illustration will actually come out during the right month.

Now: Rambles about this illustration as well as the future of the au it's a part of below the cut:

Part one: What the AU?

This AU, originally called "hero tenko au" but now "Mha Unshattered", is a ongoing MHA fan comic made by yours truly. I however, realize that I have yet to actually state the concept behind this au, so let's go:

Mha Unshattered is an au where Shimura Tenko is roughly the same age as Midoriya Izuku and ends up in class 1-A. It sits in a very popular niche of Mha fan fic, namely that in which one or more of the LOV ends up meeting some member of class 1-A in their childhood, irrevocably changing their life for the better. I'm not claiming to be original in initial concept, but that doesn't mean this au wont be creative.

The first two chapters of this comic were originally made for my english class, but I've decided to make more. Pages go in manga panel order, a decision which makes a lot more sense when your looking at the pages next to eachother.

Part two: Drawing!

Pride month! Queer people! This is a drawing of all of the queer identities in class 1-A within this au. Next year we'll get some of the other characters.

Part three: Logistics!

So like, logistics. A few things to say here.

Schedule: Mha Unshattered has and will continue to release one page mondays, wednesdays, and fridays. Breaks may be had between chapters, but as they are written as companion pieces, there will be no break between chapters 1 and 2.

Tagging: This au's title and tags will be switched over the next few days to all match the new name, but I won't delete the old tag. Please let me know if I accidentally break a link somewhere!

Content warnings: Mha Unshattered will generally contain canon-typical depictions of violence, in addition to somewhat less canon-typical depictions of mental health issues, queerphobia, and ableism. Pages like this one will be released in between chapters and have content warnings in addition to more author commentary. Chapter 2 doesn't need any content warnings though.

Courtesy shipping notice: As a fandom (gen) participant of five years, there's one thing about this au I want to address. Tenko, is, in this au, the same age as everyone else in class 1-A. This au will also be taking some time to focus on various parts of human identity and experience including romance, including between Tenko and some of his classmates. I state this, because I know for some people, depictions of romance between two characters of vastly different ages (in canon) even when recontextualized to remove said difference can be uncomfortable. I don't want anyone want to be chilling along with this au for half a year and then be slapped in the face with something that makes them uncomfortable. So, warning for that if you need one.

Thanks for reading! I'm impressed you got this far. See you Wednesday :D

#my hero academia #rose's art #comic #boku no hero academia #tenko hero au #shimura tenko #izuku midoriya #denki kaminari #ochako uraraka #momo yaoyorozu #shoto todoroki #bakugou katsuki #mina ashido #pride month

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shortentheway · 3 days ago

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I Can See the End

Levi Ackerman x OC (18+)

Post-Apocalypse AU

Master List | Read on AO3 here

Holy shit, welcome to the eighth chapter. Never thought I’d say that but here we are. This is a really long chapter (like over 11,000 words) so just a warning. A lot of smut and just general foulness but what else would yall expect from me at this point. Writing this was truly a trial so please enjoy ♡

Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), age gap, power imbalance, profanity, unprotected sex, degradation, dubious consent, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, emotional abuse, codependency, obsession, drug use, implied prostitution, violence, mental illness.

Chapter Eight ~ Odium

I can feel the intense migraine pounding in my skull before I even open my eyes. The dim, grey sunlight beams its way through the large open window, illuminating the room with a melancholic ambiance. It seems fitting, like a moment of clarity.

In the aftermath of the events of the night prior, my manic, erratic disposition has quickly shifted to the contrary. Contempt and unease fill my chest like a disease.

I attempt to turn my body to escape the light shining through the window, only to find that I’m trapped, encased by a larger figure.

I can feel Levi stir behind me. He tightens his hold on my upper body, pulling me closer to him. I feel his face bury itself in the crook of my neck as he hums in content.

“How’d you sleep?” He mumbles tiredly.

I blink in surprise. He’s awake?

“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. I don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with. “My head hurts.”

“I’m not surprised.” He releases me from his hold and props himself up on his arm.

I take the opportunity to roll onto my back, sparing my eyes from the light, which helps my migraine some. “I think I’m gonna die,” I mumble.

“Tch, well, you only have yourself to blame for that.” He quips and grabs my jaw with his other hand. He looks down at me seriously. A glare that a parent would give to an unruly child. “You’re coming with me to work today.”

I look up at him with confusion and dismay, but before I can get a word in, he cuts me off. “You’re going to answer properly for the shit you pulled yesterday. I’m sure the premier would love to have a word with you.”

“But, I already apologized—“

“You apologized to me, sure. But you need a serious reality check. This is much bigger than just the two of us. Your actions don’t just affect the people in your immediate surroundings. So, you’re going to look my superiors in the eye and tell them you’re sorry, understand?”

I grit my teeth in defeat. I know he’s right, and I know I’ve disappointed him. “Yes,” I reply somberly.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he praises me, letting my jaw go.

I look away from him frustratedly, digging my fingernails into my palms as my heart sinks into my gut. I disappointed him, and I hate myself for it, and I hate myself for acting the way I’ve been. I could’ve derailed this entire operation just to prove some arbitrary point.

Mikasa was right. I’m just a selfish whore.

“I really am sorry,” I whisper quietly.

“I know you are. You told me last night,” he mumbles lowly, shifting his body again. “I’m going to run us a bath. It’ll make you feel better.”

I hum in response and roll back over on my side, turning my body away from him and pulling the blanket over my head to shield my eyes from the light. I’ve never had a headache this bad before, and I know it has to be from the moonshine.

I feel his side of the bed lighten as he stands up and makes his way toward the bathroom. A sense of dread washes over me as I lie there. I have a disturbing feeling that I fucked up a lot more than I realize.

One single mistake and it’s spiraled into borderline chaos, and I can’t seem to stop making them.

God, what would my family say?

I know they would be so disappointed in me. I can only imagine the looks on their faces. I know for a fact that my mother and sister would slap me across the face for everything I’ve done. Honestly, I would too. If I could go back in time and scream at myself not to eat those strawberries, I would do it in a heartbeat. I probably would’ve been better off doing drugs with the men in the bathroom.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moan, clutching my head and gripping the roots of my hair.

I can hear his heavy footsteps against the old wood floor as he reenters the bedroom. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I’m so sorry,” I cry out as tears well up in the corner of my eye.

He sighs, walks over to my side of the bed, crouches down to my level, and pulls the blanket away from my face.

“Listen to me, what’s done is done. All you can do now is listen to me and do as I ask so we can fix this. Calm down and use your brain.”

I nod shakily, still hyperventilating. I hear him sigh again as he moves the blanket off my body completely and scoops me up bridal style. “Sitting in the bath will make you feel better.”

“Taking a bath isn’t a cure for everything, y’know?” I grumble into his chest.

“Yeah, but it seems to do the trick when it comes to you.”

When we enter the small bathroom, the water is still filling the bath, and two towels, a bar of soap, and a comb rest on the ledge of the clawfoot tub. “Can you stand?” He asks me.

I nod in confirmation, and he carefully sets me down on the cold tile floor.

I stand there awkwardly, shivering and holding my naked body as he situates the towels on the hook by the door. He warms up the bar of soap by dipping it in the water a few times before setting it back on the edge of the tub. Once he’s finished, he pulls his underwear off.

“You’re gonna get in with me?” I ask quietly. He didn’t last time.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” He asks in return.

I shake my head. “No, no problem.”

He reaches for the knob to turn the water off. It squeaks a loud, horrible sound as he turns it. “Get in. Slowly, though, it’s hot.”

I bite my dry lips anxiously and walk over to the edge of the large clawfoot tub. The water is steaming hot like he said, but I sink one foot in regardless. I hiss slightly at the burn but then plunge my entire body in anyway.

“Hey, be careful! I told you, it’s hot.”

“It’s fine,” I grit through my teeth.

He huffs and takes my lower jaw in his hand once again, forcing me to look up at him. “What’s going on with you, hm? Last night you looked about ready to kill someone, and now you look like you’re about to off yourself.”

I stare up at him pitifully. “I’m sorry,” is all I’m able to say.

He closes his eyelids in annoyance, releasing my jaw. He carefully lowers one foot in the scalding water, then the other, acclimating himself to the temperature before fully submerging himself in. “You keep saying that,” he comments while gripping the sides of the tub.

I bury my head in my hands. “I don’t know what else to say! I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me!”

“You need to stop yelling like a toddler and explain to me what’s wrong.”

I take in a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. “I want to be a good person, but I’m not,” I say simply.

He replies back bluntly. “Nobody is a good person, not anymore.”

“I was,” I counter. “I thought I was anyway. My family would be so disappointed in me.”

I can hear his tone soften as he speaks.

“Why would your family be disappointed in you?”

I can’t help but think that the answer is obvious, but I humor him anyway. I know he’s only trying to get me to open up. “Because of everything I’ve done. The stealing, the lying, the drugs, the fighting— all of it. They’d fucking hate me.”

“We’ve all done bad things,” he says simply. I know he’s only trying to make me feel better, but I can’t.

“Yeah, but—“

“I promise you, everything you’ve done pales in comparison to a lot of the shit I’ve seen.”

I begin to grow frustrated. It doesn’t matter if others have done worse. It doesn’t make me any better.

“It doesn’t matter. They didn’t raise me this way.”

He sighs and picks up the comb from the edge of the tub. I feel him begin to run it through the ends of my hair before he continues talking. “You’re obviously not the same person that your family knew. You’re a grown adult, and you can make decisions for yourself. Sometimes those decisions are difficult.”

“They wouldn’t like me being with you.” I throw at him. “My mom would probably hit me.”

He keeps his composure. “Well, they aren’t here, are they?”

I shake my head in agreement. He’s right. They’re gone. But I still can’t help but imagine what they’d say if they weren’t. They’d scorn me, call me disgusting, an embarrassment. And they’d be right to do so.

“I was a child when the end came. I wasn’t even ten,” I whisper, recalling the last memories I have of them.

Levi continues running the comb through my hair, letting me reminisce. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“I can barely remember what it was like before. What it was like living on the outside. I remember my family, my house, and my school. That’s about it.”

“What actually happened to your family?”

I shrug. “They’re all dead now, at least I’m pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure?”

I hope so. I pray that my family is dead. I pray to God that they’ve been spared from the misery that is living on this earth. They don’t deserve to suffer.

“Yeah,” I say shakily. “I lived in the city. My dad and I were visiting my grandmother in the country when everything happened. All I remember was my grandmother telling my dad to get me somewhere safe. He brought me here, but he was denied entry.”

“I see.”

“How old were you? Do you remember what it was like?” I ask to change the subject.

“I was twenty-six.”

“You were in the military then too, I assume?”

“I was. I joined because I wanted to go to college, but I didn’t have the money for it. I met Erwin and decided to stay.”

Interesting. I always thought they seemed pretty close.

“Erwin’s really important to you?” I ask curiously, hoping he’ll tell me more.

“As annoying as he is, I owe him my life.”

“Do you love him?”

“I respect him.”

“Did you have any family? Like, from before? Besides Mikasa.”

“I did—“

“Ow!” I exclaim as he brushes through a knot too roughly, pulling some hair from my scalp.

“Shit! I’m sorry. You okay?” He asks frantically.

I wave my hand dismissively. “Yeah, it’s fine, just keep going.”

He hums and continues with my hair and his story. “I grew up with my mom and my uncle. I also had two friends when I was younger. We enlisted together. They were like siblings to me.”

“What happened to your mom?”

“She died when I was a kid. We were pretty poor, and she contracted meningitis. By the time we went to the emergency room, it was too late.”

“And your uncle?”

“He took me in after she died. I stopped speaking to him after I enlisted. He was a piece of shit who got what he deserved.”

“What about your friends?”

“They’re dead too.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry,” is all I say.

When he doesn’t respond, I decide not to dig into that any further. I can tell by the way his voice cracks that it’s a difficult subject for him.

I stare blankly at the steaming water and watch the tiny ripples on the surface that materialize with the slightest of our movements. Each brush of my hair, each deep breath taken, sends waves of energy atop the water’s surface.

It’s hypnotic, like a portal to another world.

In my catatonic trance, my mind begins to wander further and further into absurd scenarios and possibilities.

What would our relationship be like if the end never came? What would he be like? How would we have met? Would we even be together at all? Perhaps he’d be with someone else?

Has he ever been with anyone else?

The question that arises causes my mouth to dry and my heart to beat rapidly. I sit up completely straight, pulling myself back from the void.

My sudden movement causes him to pause his combing of my hair. I hear him set the comb down, the hard plastic clacking against the edge of the ceramic tub. He takes a deep breath in and a long breath out. “What is it?” He asks softly.

I remain facing away from him, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Have you, uh, ever had a girlfriend… like a real girlfriend?”

He openly chuckles at my question. “Of course I have. I’m forty years old.”

He’s right to laugh at me. It’s a ridiculous question. It’s normal for people to have multiple romantic partners in their life. Why would he be any different?

“What was she like?”

He huffs out another laugh. “You want to know what my girlfriend was like? Seriously?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Anxiety begins to settle as I realize that I might be asking too much. His gentle tone when he begins his reply calms my nerves some.

“Her name was Petra,” he begins. “We started dating when I was twenty-eight. She was in her mid-twenties, if I remember correctly.”

“Did she look like me?” I ask without thinking.

He laughs again. “Definitely not. She was short with pale skin and red hair.”

I never thought I’d be one for envy.

“Was she pretty?” Another mindless question.

“Yeah, she was.”

Of course, she was. Why wouldn’t she be?

“What happened to her?”

I can hear him swallow and clear his throat before he answers. “She died on an expedition. Fell off her horse and snapped her neck.”

Shit.

“That sounds horrible,” I whisper.

“It was. I saw it happen. A meaningless death. A freak accident.”

He’s completely still now; both of us are. Not a single flutter breaks the water’s surface.

Did he love her like he loves me?

“Were you sad?” I ask instead.

“Of course I was. I wanted to marry her.”

I can’t cry.

I need to hold myself together.

“I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved. I realized that after she died. God gave me another chance with you. Do you understand? Why I’m so protective of you? I won’t lose you. I can’t. You need to understand why I need you to listen to me.”

It makes sense, but it’s almost too much to take in.

“Listen, I understand the way you feel. But I can’t live like this forever.”

“You won’t have to, just until this is all over. I told you I‘ll get you a nicer job. You’ll be able to do whatever you want. You’ll be safe. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

So far, he’s kept his promises, so I’ll let it go. Just for now.

I turn my body around to look at him, the hot water splashing around again as I move. He looks back at me softly. The permanent scowl he usually wears is gone, replaced by a loving gaze. I move closer to him and raise my hand to his face, gently caressing underneath his missing eye. “How did this happen?” I ask in a whisper.

He doesn’t seem offended by my question. “Shrapnel from an explosive. I was standing too close,” is all he says.

I say nothing back to him. I simply continue stroking his skin, feeling the jagged edges of his scars beneath my fingers.

I become completely lost in him, lost in his touch, his eyes, and in the moment. He seems so vulnerable. It almost makes me dizzy.

“Levi… have you ever felt this feeling… like, you’re not a person? Like you’re something more, something special?”

His eyebrows scrunch, but he maintains a gentle tone. “What are you talking about, baby?”

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against his. It’s difficult formulating my thoughts into words. How does one describe a feeling so indescribable? “Sometimes I get this feeling. It’s more like an experience than a feeling, but I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like… a breath of fresh air or a big sigh. It’s like I’m not in my body, but I’m somewhere else, maybe heaven? I think? But it’s the best feeling in the world. It feels like God. Like you’re so close to God you can practically taste it.”

He simply shakes his head. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“It never lasts, though. Every time I pray that it lasts forever, but it never does. It’s horrible when it ends.”

I pull back to look at his face again, but he looks back at me with an unreadable expression, like he doesn’t know what to say. His eyes are glassy, though. God, I hope he doesn’t cry. I didn’t mean to make him cry. I just want to feel good, and I want him to feel good too.

“The first time it happened was when I ate those strawberries. The second time was when I got high. The third time was when you fucked me the first time. The fourth time was when you fucked me again.” I pull myself closer and sit myself in his lap. “Will you please fuck me again? Please, I wanna feel it. I need to feel something.”

He lets out a shaky breath, reaches up, and smoothes his hand down the back of my head. He looks contemplative, but not for very long. “Anything you want, baby.”

I lean in slowly, lightly pressing my lips to his forehead. I trail kisses downwards until I reach his prosthetic. He presses his eyelids shut, and I lay my lips over the missing eye. I continue downward along his long scar. He’s so soft, his skin, his hair. It almost seems unfitting, contrary to his nature. But his creamy, translucent skin feels like silk against my tongue. I slide the tip of my tongue along the lines of his disfigurement, gently, leisurely. He doesn’t stop me; in fact, he drags my body flush against his own. I hum at the feeling of his hardening dick brushing the inside of my thighs.

“You’re so smooth,” I whisper into his skin, continuing to trace my tongue along the harsh edges of his scars, all the way down to his lips.

He opens his mouth eagerly once my lips finally touch his. I shove my tongue in his mouth, and he swallows everything I give him. We whorishly moan into each other’s mouths like the depraved souls we are.

I reach my hand down between my legs, find my clit, and rub at it vigorously. He lets out a deep growl from the pit of his chest. “That’s right, baby. Play with yourself,” he mumbles, grabbing my ass in one hand and holding my body close with the other.

I pull back from the kiss, gasping, breathing frantically to fill my lungs, but never letting up on my cunt. “When I cum… will you choke me again?” I ask desperately.

His lips twitch, and a dark, lustful expression crosses over his face. “Fuck,” he grunts with a nod. “Yeah, baby. I can.” He quickly swats my hand away from my cunt and replaces it with his, continuing to rub fast, rough circles over my sore clit. His unoccupied arm still holds me in place. No matter which way my body squirms, the pleasure never eases.

I whine a high-pitched whine as I feel him take my nipple between his hot lips, tonguing at it gently like I was previously doing to his face. It sends a shiver down my spine, straight to my core, like an electric shock. My pussy pulses against his hand as I feel myself being pulled closer to the edge. “Ah, Levi, I’m close!” I shout in warning.

He pulls away immediately. I feel myself being pushed backwards before I feel his hand on my neck. He instantly squeezes tightly, not wasting a single moment. My airflow is cut off, but he continues his erratic movements on my clit. It feels so good it’s dizzying. I grip his muscular forearm as it flexes and tightens, the veins on his arm bulging with tension. He practically lifts me up by my neck, water splashing out of the tub as he does so. “Oh, fuck,” I sputter out incoherently. The words barely escape my mouth as I have no breath left to speak.

“Dirty little slut. Gonna cum, hm?” He asks with false affection.

I nod in his grip as my eyes roll back. “Uh huh,” I moan out haggardly.

“Of course you are. Go ahead then, cum on my hand.”

My orgasm rocks me as I spasm and tremble in his grip. He lets up on my neck, only slightly though, just enough for me to let some air in. “That’s it, baby girl, let it all out,” he groans earnestly.

My body continues to convulse as I ride out my high, my abdomen clenching and unclenching uncontrollably as he continues to stimulate me until I come down completely. He eventually lets go of my throat to hold me by my torso instead and gently lowers me back in the water as I embrace the final waves of my climax.

I look into his eye as I catch my breath. He looks back at me with adoration in turn, petting the top of my head as if I’m some kind of lap cat. I let him do it, though. I let him gaze at me as though I’m his most precious possession.

A diamond, he looks at me as if I’m a diamond in a sea of glass. Like I’m a painting and he’s a blind man who was just granted the gift of sight. “Why do you look at me like that?” I ask him breathlessly.

His expression becomes curious for a split moment. “Like what?” He coos.

“Like I’m an angel.”

His lips twitch into a brief smirk. “Because you are.”

Perhaps I was, maybe when he first saw me. But not anymore.

He pushes me back suddenly and stands up out of the water and exits the bathtub, ripping me from my daydream. “Alright, get up.”

I look up at him confused. “Huh? What—”

“Get up,” he maintains. “We’ve got places to be.”

I shake my head in refusal. “What? But you said you would fuck me. You promised.”

“And I will, but later. We can’t be late for this meeting,” he explains, grabbing a towel off the hook and walking over to the sink.

“But you’re hard. You didn’t cum,” I point out. His dick is still standing proud and hard as he dries himself off. It looks kind of painful.

He dismissively waves off my concern. “It doesn’t matter.”

I decide to finally leave the tub, trailing water on the tile floor as I walk. I approach him from behind and smooth my hands over his muscular back. He has a lot of scars there too. I wonder where he got them all? Does he even remember?

I rest my chin on his shoulder and snake my hands to his front, roaming my hands around in a similar fashion before trailing them down to his hard dick. I gently grip the base of his shaft in one hand and his balls in the other. “Please…” I drone in a soft, seductive manner.

His breath hitches slightly as he lowers the towel from his face. I hear him swallow before he shoves my hands away. He then turns around to face me. He looks me in the eye with a straight face and throws the towel somewhere on the floor. “You have five minutes,” he says, bringing his hand to my face and running his thumb gently over my cheekbone.

I’m slightly confused by what he means, but only for a moment. He slides his hand down to my shoulder and nudges me back, looking down at his erection. When it clicks, I nod in understanding.

I drop to my knees, feeling the ridges of the hard tiles on my joints. Saliva begins welling in my mouth.

He holds his cock in front of my face impatiently. “Suck it, then. Since you want it so bad.”

I don’t respond to his degrading demand. Not with words, anyway. I simply open my mouth, wrap my lips around his shaft, and take him as far into my throat as I’m able. He moans softly and brings his hands to carefully grip my head, not wanting to ruin his hard work detangling my hair. He pushes further down my throat, forcing a loud gag out of me. “You’ve been such a disobedient, ungrateful little slut.” I moan around him as he continues his rambling. “Is this your way of apologizing?” I nod and moan again as he continues fucking my throat. “Shit, you’re being such a good little whore now, aren’t you? My good girl.”

He pulls back from my face, and I look up at him through watery eyes. “I love you, sir,” I moan out, deep and heavy. His eyelids flutter shut, and he begins to stroke himself, precum leaking from his swollen tip.

“I love you too, Angel,” he breathes, easing his dick back into my mouth. I lick the underside of him with my tongue this time and attempt to take him deeper.

He becomes more and more frantic by the second. I bob my head up and down, and he thrusts his hips to meet me halfway, his balls slapping against my chin with each stroke. “Shit, gonna cum in that pretty little mouth,” he hisses.

I brace myself and relax my throat as much as possible in preparation to swallow, but to my surprise, he pulls back slightly, letting his dick rest on my tongue. While holding my head firmly in place, he shudders and lets out a deep shout.

His release floods my mouth. The bitter taste of cum invades my senses, and I whine loudly, screwing my eyes shut. It’s not a pleasant taste, but it’s not a bad one either. My instinct is to immediately swallow it or spit it out, but he pulls back and clamps his hand over my mouth. “Don’t even think about it,” he warns me. “Keep it in your mouth.”

I obey him without question, looking up at him wide-eyed and anticipating his next command.

He slowly pulls his hand away and says, “Show me.”

I open my mouth and stick my tongue out slightly, showing him his cum coating the inside of my mouth.

He looks down at me darkly, with satisfaction and content. He pinches the flesh of my cheek before he nods his head. “You can swallow now, baby.”

I instantly close my mouth and swallow it all. The bitter, salty taste of cum still lingers in my mouth as I lean my cheek against his hard, naked thigh. He pets the top of my head soothingly as I catch my breath. “Fuck,” I gasp, chest still heaving.

“Get up and dry yourself off. We need to get ready,” he instructs, pushing me away and turning back to face the small mirror above the sink.

I stand up off the floor shakily and grab the second towel off the hook. “I don’t really have any clothes besides what I was wearing last night,” I remind him.

“You’ll wear one of my uniforms. It’ll be big on you, but it’ll have to do.”

“I can wear a military uniform even though I’m not in the military?”

“You can today.” Is all he says before walking past me and leaving the bathroom.

I quickly dry myself off and put my damp hair back into twin braids. As I finish the second one, he comes back into the bathroom dressed in a white button-up and black dress pants. “I left a uniform folded on the bed for you,” he tells me as he adjusts the sleeves on his shirt.

“Okay,” I mumble as I walk past him. I leave the bathroom to find that the bed has been made, and a uniform is laid perfectly folded on the bed for me, like he promised. I unwrap the towel from my body, fold it into a square, and set it on the bed, mentally preparing myself to put on these unfamiliar clothes.

It seems self-explanatory enough. It’s just a shirt, pants, and a coat, after all.

I start with putting on the underwear, which are obviously Levi’s. They’re slightly big on me, and I’m not used to wearing boxer briefs, which only adds to the discomfort. I put on the shirt next. It’s the same one he’s wearing, a white button-up with a collar. Then come the bottoms. There’s a belt, which I assume is supposed to be looped through the jacket like Levi had his last night. However, the pants are too large, so I decide to loop it through the pants instead. I pull on the socks and finally slip on the jacket. It feels large and frumpy. In fact, everything about the uniform feels wrong. I haven’t even looked at myself in a mirror, and I don’t want to. I don’t need to see myself to know that I look ridiculous. Just another addition to the embarrassment of my situation.

Levi walks back into the bedroom with his hair styled and combed. It’s still slightly damp, but it’s not noticeable unless you look at it closely. I also notice a bit of stubble that remains along his chin and jawline. He probably didn’t have time to shave.

“You look ridiculous,” he comments, looking me up and down.

“You’re an ass,” I mutter under my breath.

He clenches his jaw and narrows his eyelids at me. “Watch it.”

I roll my eyes and follow him out of the bedroom and into his office area. I notice my clothes are still lying on the couch from last night along with his slightly puke-soiled uniform jacket. “Damnit,” he curses, looking at the mess. He reaches for his jacket and picks it up, examining it for any obvious vomit stains.

“You can’t even tell that there’s anything on it. Just wear it.”

He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s not that. It’s the principle. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive for an hour.”

He looks back at me with an agitated expression and sighs. “There’s no time for me to clean it,” he grumbles as he frustratedly puts the jacket and belt on. There’s only a small stain towards the bottom hemline. It’s barely noticeable, especially if we’re going to be sitting down.

“I seriously think you have an issue with cleaning.”

“It’s better than being filthy. Put your damn shoes on,” he says gruffly, sitting down on the couch and pulling his own boots over his feet.

I sit down next to him and do the same, not wanting to rattle him further.

“How does your nose feel? It looks a bit swollen,” he asks, distracting himself from the jacket.

“It hurts, but not as bad as it did last night.”

“Good, it’s probably not broken then.”

He promptly stands up after he’s finished tying the laces on his boots. I stand up after him and follow him to the door. He opens it, steps to the side, and allows me to exit first. Once we’re both in the hallway, he locks the door behind him, and we begin our walk.

“What even happens at these meetings anyway?” I wonder out loud.

“Usually nothing much. Today, though, probably a lot. High-ranking officials from the Survey Corps and the Garrison will be there, so you need to behave yourself. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

The remainder of our walk to the meeting hall is short and silent, and anxiety wells up in my chest the closer we get. If he was serious about having me apologize in front of his colleagues, I’ll need to come up with something acceptable.

What the hell do I even say? Too much groveling and I’ll look pathetic. Too much stoicism and I’ll seem unremorseful. Christ, I fucking hate this.

“We’re here,” he says abruptly as we stop in front of a large wooden door.

Fuck.

“Hey,” he calls out to me. “You need to hold yourself together,” he tells me, examining the look on my face. He can tell I’m nervous. I know I’m not doing a good job hiding it.

My lips twitch in a slight smirk at his words. He doesn’t seem to notice.

He’s right, though. I need to hold myself together.

“Yes, sir,” I say finally.

He gives a curt nod and knocks firmly on the door three times.

A voice answers almost immediately. “State your name and business,” the deep, male voice responds.

“Captain Levi Ackerman, Survey Corps. I’m here with my informant.”

“Enter,” the man says after clearing his throat.

Levi opens the door to reveal a large room. It looks like an office similar to his own, only bigger, and there’s an enormous, wooden long table in the center that takes up most of the room. I assume it’s only used for meetings like this.

There are quite a few people here already. They’re all wearing the same uniforms as us, though some have different insignias. I recognize a few people right away. Erwin, Hange, Mike, Nanaba, and Mikasa. Everyone else is a stranger.

Another thing that I notice is that despite everyone in this room being military, there isn’t a single MP in sight. I can recall Levi saying that the Military Police weren’t involved in the investigation. He still hasn’t told me why.

“It’s nice to see you, Levi,” I hear Erwin’s voice sound from across the room as we approach him. “It seems like I rarely see you these days.”

Levi looks up at him confused. “You see me every day, Eyebrows. What are you talking about?”

“Only in passing. We used to work with each other every day, but we’ve both been so busy with everything going on and all.”

“Well, hopefully this will all be over soon.”

Erwin nods and abruptly turns his attention to me. “How are you? I’m aware it’s only been a week, but a lot can happen in a short amount of time.”

So, he knows. I’m not surprised. I’m sure Mikasa’s already told everyone about everything. I’m not sure why he’s sparing my dignity. But he did the same thing the first time we met as well. Perhaps he simply prefers to keep a cordial face. “I’m alright. Thank you for asking, sir.”

“I see. That’s good to hear. The two of you should have a seat. We’ll be starting soon.”

Levi doesn’t say anything back to Erwin. He simply rolls his eyes and pulls out a chair for me. “Sit,” he commands.

I sit down in the uncomfortable wooden chair, and he follows suit, pulling out the chair next to me and planting himself firmly.

One by one everyone else sits down in their own chairs around the table. The Survey Corps on one side, the Garrison on the other. I examine the man who sits at the head of the table closely. He’s quite old and fat, with a grey beard and glasses. The most interesting thing about his appearance is the insignia on his uniform. It’s a shield, like the others. However, there’s nothing else decorating it. I assume this man is the premier.

“I’m sure everyone is aware why we’re here today,” the premier begins.

“Yes, sir,” everyone replies in unison.

He shuffles through a few papers and files laid out in front of him before continuing. “Very well, then. We’ll begin with Commander Pixis. The room is yours.”

A tall, elderly, bald man sitting near the head of the table clears his throat. He runs a wrinkly hand over his large mustache before he begins speaking. “Over the past few weeks, we’ve increased the number of guards stationed in the lower sectors. This was primarily done as an intimidation tactic. However, it was also done to increase security.”

I have noticed more guards around the Green lately, and I assumed it had something to do with the investigation. Apparently I was right. They’re not doing a very good job, though.

The premier nods. “Has anything come of this?”

“No, not particularly. It’s difficult to bring people in for questioning without risking accidentally revealing our entire operation.”

A member of the Garrison sitting further down the table rudely interjects the conversation. “I don’t understand why we don’t just come out with it already. Why keep it under wraps? We should be threatening everyone involved with punishment outright.”

Commander Pixis shakes his head. “That would only instigate them further. It would make us look weak, ignorant, unprepared, and unorganized.”

Mike is the next person to open his mouth. “It would probably entice more people to join their cause, especially if they think we’re losing control over the population.”

The Garrison guard from before grows increasingly more frustrated. “We are losing control over the population!” He yells back.

“Enough!”

The premier’s loud exclamation is enough to silence the entire room. We all whip our heads to him in surprise.

Once he’s certain that he has our undivided attention, he continues his speech. “Zeke Yeager, his brother, and the rest of his accomplices have been actively plotting to stage a coup d’état in order to overthrow military rule. We don’t have time to be arguing here like animals.”

The silence at the premier’s outburst remains heavy; nobody dares to argue back. We all simply sit there with hanging heads.

So Zeke is the one behind it after all. It does make the most sense, but it raises more questions than it answers.

“Do we have an estimate of how many individuals have allied themselves with their cause?” Erwin asks the premier carefully.

“No, it’s quite difficult to say. They’ve done quite a terrific job of keeping their affairs under wraps.”

“And you believe that the Military Police are involved somehow? It’s the reason they’re not here, isn’t it?” Erwin questions again.

The premier nods his head. “Yes, I believe that to be true.”

Erwin leans forward in curiosity. “What evidence do you have to suggest that?”

“The Military Police have grown slack, prone to greed and self-interest. I’m sure you’re all aware of this. Zeke has been longtime friends with a few prominent officers. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s offered them some sort of deal. It would also give him access to weapons.”

“We need to up security in the armory if that’s the case.” Hange mutters out loud.

“To what lengths do you believe they’ll go?” Erwin asks again.

“We can’t be certain, but we must assume the extreme.”

Erwin raises an eyebrow. “Which is?”

A short pause crosses the premier before he utters an answer. “An attack, en masse.”

I begin looking around the table at the others reactions. They’re all wide-eyed, save for a few, as if they weren’t expecting things to escalate this way.

I’m in no state of shock. Obviously the population of laborers would grow restless with their conditions eventually. I’m surprised something like this hasn’t happened sooner. Did these people seriously think that we would just lie down and take it forever? Perhaps ignorance truly is bliss.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just arrest him.” A Garrison woman with glasses chimes in next.

“Like I said, we don’t know how many people are backing him. If we cut off the head, who’s to say that more wouldn’t take his place?”

“We need to focus on de-escalation while staying vigilant. We need to be prepared for the worst at all times,” Pixis suggests.

The premier nods in agreement. “He’s right. We need to play the long game, and we need to be certain just how many people we’re dealing with.”

“What if we don’t have time to play the long game? They could be marching through the halls as we speak,” the same woman from before cautions us stubbornly.

Erwin drops his head in his hands. “It sounds like we all need to get a better head on our shoulders.”

Everyone nods defeatedly, and a short, uncomfortable silence fills the room before Mike opens his mouth. “We need to address the occurrence last night.”

“Ah, yes. That,” the premier exhales impatiently. He shuffles through more files before opening a few of them and continuing on with a sigh. “Last night’s events in the Quarter could have potentially risked the integrity of this operation. I’m sure most of you are aware. Lieutenant Ackerman has given us a full report.”

Everyone around the table nods slowly, but not a word is spoken, just awkward glances and anxious fidgeting.

Then, to my surprise, I hear Levi’s deep voice sound out next to me. “My informant would like to speak on the matter first.” I whip my head to him in shock. He looks back at me, serious and cold, but I’m left speechless with my jaw slightly ajar.

“Well, go on then, girl,” the premier orders expectantly.

I shake my head in a panic, not knowing what to say. Levi snaps his fingers in front of my face to pull back my attention. “How about you start with an apology?” He suggests.

Another humiliation ritual.

Everyone in this room knows of the events that transpired last night, yet they all sit there watching me intently, patiently waiting for me to confess my wrongdoings.

“I— um, well—“

“Get on with it, girl. We don’t have all day.”

“I’d like to apologize, formally, for my actions. Um, I was acting out of self-interest, and I’m aware now that what I did was wrong, so I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear. Please—“

“We don’t need any of your pleading. A simple apology would’ve sufficed.”

“I understand, sir.”

“According to your file, you were assigned only to report on the laborers in the Green. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you were prohibited from entering the Quarter by Captain Ackerman directly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure you’re now aware of why that is.”

“Yes, sir.”

The premier sighs and turns his attention to Levi. “Captain Ackerman, I encourage you to exercise more control over your informant from this point forward to prevent a similar situation from happening.”

“I understand, sir,” he agrees.

“Make no mistake, one more step out of line and I’ll be forced to take action. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

The premier sifts through more files and raises his head once again, this time towards Mikasa. “Lieutenant Ackerman, concerns have been raised that your personal feelings towards Eren Jeager could possibly pose a conflict between your own self-interest and that of your duty.”

She also nods dutifully. “I understand, sir.”

“Do you or do you not believe that to be true?”

“I don’t believe that to be true,” she responds confidently.

The premier doesn’t seem so easily convinced. “If I discover that your loyalties have been swayed, I’ll have no choice but to put you on trial for treason. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

The premier then sighs and rubs his eyes underneath his glasses. “What a mess,” he groans frustratedly.

Nanaba raises another important question. “What I don’t understand is why the laborers are rallying behind Zeke of all people. Do they seriously believe that he’ll be a better leader?”

The premier hums in agreement but continues to explain. “No matter what the population believes, the only thing standing in the way of complete civil unrest is us. We work tirelessly, day and night, to ensure that this compound runs efficiently for the benefit of humanity. We cannot allow this power-hungry beast to jeopardize that, lest we all would like to risk extinction.”

“It’s clear what needs to be done, then,” Erwin declares.

The premier nods. “Anyone found guilty of conspiring with Zeke Yeager has committed an act of treason, punishable by death.”

“Wait,” Mikasa interjects.

The premier looks less than enthused. “What is it?”

“If someone were to confess, would you give them a second chance?”

He shrugs. “Perhaps.”

“Would you give me a chance to convince them?” Mikasa asks with a hopeful tone.

“Is this about Eren? What did we just have a conversation about?”

She hangs her head in dismay. “It’s not him.”

“What makes you think he’d turn his brother in? You really believe he’d betray his family for you?”

“I just said it’s not about him! Please give me a chance,” she begs.

“She has a point.” I daringly interject. Everyone at the table looks at me in surprise. “If we could convince people to confess, we would know a lot more. It would be easier to de-escalate.”

The premier looks visibly distressed but contemplative nonetheless. We all stare intently in anticipation of his verdict.

“I suppose there is a point to be made,” he trails off, running his hand along his beard. “Anyone who sincerely confesses will be pardoned from execution,” he finally announces.

Mikasa’s eyes widen in surprise.

“But be aware that their actions will still carry consequences. Is that clear?”

Everyone nods in understanding.

“Does anyone else have any further inquiries?”

Everyone around the table shakes their heads.

“Very well, then. You’re all dismissed.”

I hear audible sighs of relief from everyone as they immediately stand up and gather their things. I promptly follow suit, eager to get back to Levi’s quarters and out of this mess. I quickly make my way to the door alongside everyone else, expecting Levi to be following after me, until I hear someone call out his name.

“Levi, a moment?”

I turn around to find that the voice belongs to Erwin. He’s standing near the table alongside Hange and Mike.

Nervously, I look at Levi, silently pleading for him to turn them down.

Unfortunately, he waves me off. “Just wait out in the hallway, alright?”

“Okay,” I concede, trying to hide my annoyance and most likely doing a poor job of it.

Everyone else has left the room and presumably left to go back to their quarters, including the premier, leaving only the four of them.

Interesting.

I leave the room and stand out in the hallway like Levi asked, but eventually, like always, my curiosity gets the best of me. Once I’m sure everyone has vacated the area, I press my ear against the door, slowly and carefully, so as not to alert them of my presence. It’s difficult to make out what they’re saying at first, but I quickly realize that they’re talking about me.

“Well, you should’ve expected this,” Mike, or at least I think it’s Mike, spits frustratedly.

Levi speaks next, deadpan as usual. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

I hear a deep sigh and Erwin’s voice next. “Honestly, Levi, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I couldn’t lose her. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“So you make her your informant?” Mike asks in disbelief.

“It was convenient.”

Mike scoffs. “Listen to yourself. How can you not see how fucked up this is?”

“Have you considered that perhaps this situation is affecting her more than you realize?” Erwin asks carefully.

“Of course I have,” Levi replies.

“Really? It doesn’t seem that way to me,” Mike quips back condescendingly.

“Mike—“

“No, I’m done pretending that any of this is okay. Taking advantage of a young girl to fulfill some sick desire is disgusting, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not.”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Levi grunts angrily.

“A fucking psychopath!”

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“I don’t think you realize what’s going on here, Levi—“

“Shut the fuck up—“

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on with her,” I hear Hange chime in, interrupting the both of them. “What’s done is done. All that matters now is that Levi keeps her under control.”

“How can the two of you just be okay with this?” Mike sputters out.

“I’m not necessarily, but it doesn’t matter. We can’t go back and change things. The only thing we can do is make sure she cooperates so we have the opportunity to fix it,” Hange calmly explains.

Mike sighs and groans. “This is so fucked up. Is she even mentally stable?”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that—“

“You need to calm down, both of you,” Erwin interrupts. “Hange’s right, what’s done is done. The only option is to ensure her cooperation—“

“Eavesdropping, are we?” I hear a feminine voice from behind me.

Startled, I spin around to find Mikasa Ackerman standing there with a mischievous look on her face.

Shit.

“Oh— I wasn’t—“

She rolls her eyes and holds her hand up before I can continue. “Calm the hell down. I don’t really care.”

I look back at her suspiciously. “Oh, uh, then what—“

“I hope you realize that our friend’s lives are riding on us,” she says seriously, cutting straight to her point.

I nod slowly. “I’m aware.”

“I’m serious, do you understand? We need to convince them. All they have to do is confess and tell the premier what they know.”

I maintain my stance of uncertainty. “Sounds a lot easier said than done.”

“Yeah, but it’s either that or they die.” She looks down at the floor solemnly, shaking her head in grievance. “Zeke is going to go through with his plan no matter what, and when all goes to hell and we come out on top, everyone involved with Zeke will be thrown in the box or hung on the wall.”

I’m aware of what’s at stake. The last thing I want is for anyone to die. But something is telling me that the possibility of execution doesn’t scare them, not if they’re willing to go this far, at least not Ymir anyway.

I shrug and shake my head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You only have to focus on Ymir. She’ll listen to you a lot more than she’ll listen to me. Krista will take Ymir’s side, and I’m sure Armin will see reason if it comes from me.”

My eyes narrow at her. “How can you be so sure?”

“I have to be,” she says simply.

“What about Eren?” I ask her.

“What about him?”

“Do you still love him?”

She huffs and closes her eyes for a moment before composing herself once more. “I’ll always love him. But just because you love someone doesn’t mean you need to be with them. Sometimes it’s better to cut the cord for your own sake.”

“I guess…”

“You’d do well to remember that. My uncle, he’s—“

She cuts herself off when the door cracks open, squeaking loudly throughout the hall. She pulls me away by my coat sleeve, just in time for Levi to walk through. “What’s going on?” He asks suspiciously with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” I rush out. “I was just apologizing to her for last night.”

“Hmm, were you, now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I have something for you,” Hange inserts herself into the conversation before Levi can get another word in. “Your glasses are ready.” She pulls a small leather pouch out of the breast pocket of her uniform and hands it to me. “Well, go on, don’t just stare. Try them on.”

I fumble a bit with the pouch string before I eventually manage to open it. Inside is a pair of thinly framed round glasses. They’re not completely circular, but almost. I pull them out of the pouch and examine them briefly before putting them on.

Hange watches me with anticipation. “I knew that shape would look good on you! What do you think?”

“Holy shit,” is all I can say. The moment I situate the lenses on my face, everything around me becomes crystal clear. The vibrancy of every color increases tenfold. I look around at the walls of the hallway and the old wood floors. I can make out every crack in the paint, every line in the wood, and every other imperfection. It’s like looking through the lens of a camera.

I then raise my head to look at everyone’s faces. My eyes widen as I examine each one. Each line, wrinkle, and blemish is made more evident by the lenses.

I glance over at Levi last and take him in. I can see the blue veins that peer through his skin. The depth and detail of his scars is almost frightening. The white prosthesis in his eye is uncanny, emotionless, and unmoving. His remaining eye, however, is the lightest, most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen.

“How is it?” He asks

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “It’s weird.”

“You’ll get used to it. Don’t worry,” Hange reassures me. “Hey… Levi, you can call her four-eyes now instead of giving me shit all the time,” she jokes lightheartedly.

I look over at Levi to find him amused. A smug smirk crosses his lips as if he’s seriously contemplating Hange’s suggestion. When she’s finished giggling, I give him a mean glare. “If you ever call me that, I’ll gouge out your other eye and call you no eyes. I mean it.”

Everyone gathered around us lets out a chuckle, brushing off my threat as another joke. I, however, don’t find it funny. Perhaps I wouldn’t go to the extreme of cutting out his other eye, but I’d slap him at the very least.

“Noted,” he relents before putting his hand on my shoulder. “We’re going to head back,” he tells the rest of them, guiding me back in the direction of his quarters.

“Oh, are you sure?” Erwin questions.

“Yeah, we haven’t eaten yet.”

Hange gives a little wave goodbye. “Alright, then. See you.”

Levi waves in return. “See you.”

Without looking back, we set off on our way back to Levi’s quarters the exact same way that we came.

The walk this time is much more interesting with the addition of my glasses. I can’t keep my eyes forward. It seems that with every step we take, I notice something that I didn’t notice before. “What do you keep looking at?” He asks me, puzzled.

“Everything looks so strange now. It’s weird.”

“Must be nice.”

As we continue to walk, I begin to wonder what it’s like to be half blind. It definitely sucks, but he seems to have acclimated pretty well. He moves around as if he has perfect vision. Sometimes I almost forget.

“What was it like when you lost your eye?”

He doesn’t look at me. He just continues walking like I didn’t just ask an invasive question. “It was pretty awful. It hurt like a bitch,” he says casually. “I had to relearn how to do basically everything.”

“That sounds like shit.”

“It was.”

He fumbles around in his pocket for his keys once we reach the door, unlocking it and immediately ripping his uniform jacket off his body the second we get in the room. “I’ll have your clothes washed with this before you leave today.”

“Okay,” I respond plainly, taking off my own jacket and discarding it on the couch with the pile of dirty clothes.

He notices immediately and looks at me sharply. “How about you hang that on the hook by the door like an adult?”

“How about you keep the promise that you made this morning?” I counter sassily.

His eyebrows raise in understanding. “Oh, I get it. That’s why you’re acting like this.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Like what?”

“Like a spoiled brat.”

“No, I’m fucking not!”

He huffs out a laugh and saunters his way over to me. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck you. If you still want that?”

I nod my head eagerly. “Yes, please.”

He gives me a short kiss on the lips and runs his hands down my shoulders. “Take off your clothes, then.”

I hurriedly do as he says, frantically taking my clothes and shoes off until I’m left bare, discarding the clothes similarly to how I did with the jacket. He doesn’t berate me about it this time. Instead, he too strips off his clothes and throws them in the same manner, leaving them all in a careless pile to be dealt with later.

He races back to me, pressing his body against my own, feeling me up and groping me like he’s touching a woman for the first time. I can feel his erection growing rapidly in his underwear.

He urges me towards the bedroom, pushing me backwards until we reach the foot of the bed. “Sit down,” he instructs softly.

I obey, sitting down on the edge, and just like always, he looks down at me like a man possessed, hungry and ready to devour. His usually grey iris burns like black coal as he takes in my equally lustful expression.

He reaches his hands toward my face and slips my glasses off, neatly folding them and setting them gently on the side table.

This difference is jarring. The fine details of his face that I was able to make out with the glasses are now shrouded. Blurred along with the rest of his face.

I blink a few times to let my eyes adjust, but his next move surprises me. His muscles ripple and flex as he slowly kneels on the floor before me. I look at him with furrowed brows as my eyes dart over his breathtaking form. I glance over the solid muscles of his chest, to the curve of his ass, to the way his mouth falls slightly agape, and to his hands, pale and strong. He reaches forward to capture my calves, running his hands up and down my skin.

“What are you doing?” I ask him in a whisper.

No response.

Every muscle in my body tenses at his movements. His cold hands against my skin only cause me to seize up even more.

His touch is feather-light as he smooths over my skin; up and down my calves and thighs he gropes and touches, and when he pushes my thighs open, I let him.

“I’m apologizing,” he finally answers. “For everything. I keep upsetting you. Can’t have that.”

My breath hitches as I mull over his words. I wonder if he actually means that. Does it even matter one way or another? Maybe he really does feel bad, or maybe he just thinks that this will make me listen to him more.

He raises himself up on his knees, and I watch him as he presses open-mouth kisses on my inner thighs. His eyelids flutter shut, and his wandering hands continue to roam their way along the flesh of my hips.

Then, to my abject surprise, I feel the press of his hard dick against my leg as he begins rolling his hips desperately, humping me wildly as if he were a dog.

This startles me. It’s enough to make me attempt to pull my leg away, but his firm grip never falters and his quiet moans grow louder.

“Levi,” I call out to him.

He doesn’t respond, just a low, airy grunt from the pit of his chest.

I contemplate letting him continue to reach his end, but his behavior is bizarre, completely unlike him. It’s unnerving.

I attempt to pull away a second time, but like previously, my leg doesn’t budge. I can feel him growing harder and wetter by the second, his erection straining rigidly in his underwear, leaking precum that soaks through the fabric of his underwear. Out of desperation, I begin kicking at him with my free leg, only gently, just enough to get his attention. A few strikes to the side of his torso are enough to get him to pause. He looks up at me with an eye full of desire, his cheeks pink, lips wet, and his cock hard and ready.

I look down at him bewildered. Is this what I looked like this morning? Is this what he sees when I’m beneath him? A face so pitiful and desperate, seeking out pleasure desperately and without shame?

But how could I feel embarrassed when he looks at me like this?

He, abruptly and without warning, pushes my legs further apart and descends his perfect mouth on my naked cunt.

My body jolts as though I’ve been struck by lightning. He circles his warm, cushiony tongue around my clit cravingly as he continues to rut his hips into the mattress. He eats me like a beast or a man half-starved, repugnant and loud, profanely burying his face into my core. He grips at my thighs roughly as if something is going to take me away.

I’m unable to move at first, completely succumbing to the rush of pleasure. “Holy shit,” I moan breathlessly, instinctively bucking my hips up against my lover’s angelic face.

I dig my fingers into his silky hair and pull him in closer, equally as desperate and needing more of his sinful attention. “Fuck, yes! Fuck,” I choke out tearfully, mindlessly grinding my cunt into his willing mouth. I curl one leg to my chest and carelessly throw the other over his shoulder, digging my heel into his solid back in an attempt to trap him in place.

My thoughts become increasingly more irate and absurd the longer he continues.

If he wants to apologize this way, I’ll let him. He can be repentant, and I’ll gladly accept his atonement. He can hurt me and beg for forgiveness endlessly if it feels this good.

He pulls away from my pulsing clit with a wet pop, his lips and chin sheen with my arousal in the dim sunlight.

I whine in frustration at his pause. However, he’s quick to silence me. “Do you still want me to fuck you?” He asks in a daze, breathing heavily against my throbbing pussy.

I nod my head eagerly. “Yes, please. Please fuck me! I fucking need it,” I cry out hysterically, direly needing to feel that precious pull.

Without needing to hear another word, he rises, pulls down his boxer briefs, and hurriedly moves his body over mine, viciously attacking my mouth with his. Our tongues entwine, soft muscles each sliding against the other, dancing around each other with fervor. I mindlessly open my legs in preparation to take his salacious offering. But just when I screw my eyes shut and take a deep breath in, he flips himself on his back and manhandles me atop him.

I clutch his shoulders and look down at him, baffled. “Take it for yourself,” is all he says, firm and commanding as if he’s still the one in control.

But he is still the one in control. He just wants to pretend that he isn’t. If the illusion is what he craves, then he can have it.

I grip his thick cock by the base, stroke him a few times, and hesitantly lower myself onto him, shutting my eyes and hissing at the sharp stretch. A feeling I’ll never get used to.

He groans deeply once I bottom out, gripping my hips strongly and digging his fingers into the flesh. He looks at me thirstily as I give an experimental rock of my hips. It feels strange and intense, so I pause and let out a quiet huff.

“Keep going,” he encourages. “Just like that.”

I hesitantly continue to move my hips back and forth, slowly to begin with, stabilizing myself on his torso with my hands. He slides his hands up from my hips to my waist, then my chest, fondling me eagerly as he watches me move.

It feels good, but not good enough. I contemplate stopping altogether, but he quickly notices my apprehension. “Faster, baby,” he orders me impatiently.

I bite my cheek in frustration and shake my head. “But—“

I’m cut off with a rough, upward thrust of his hips that sends an arousing shiver down my spine. I yelp in surprise, and he grips my hips firmly once again. “Make yourself cum on my cock, or you don’t cum at all. Your choice.”

This doesn’t feel like much of an apology anymore, but I keep my mouth shut.

Frustrated, I begin moving again, but faster this time, like he asked, attempting to draw enough pleasure to give me the high that I need. The pleasure builds slowly, but it doesn’t feel the same. “I fucking can’t!” I yell at him furiously, gasping to catch my breath.

“Yes, you can. You’re overthinking it. Let go, and take what you want.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath in, and ride him, fiercely and impatiently, letting myself go and giving in to the acrimony. The anger, frustration, and desire that continue to linger in my tissues, an incurable parasite. Just when I think I’ve rid myself of it all for good, the itch comes back, sometimes tenfold, driving me further and further over the edge.

I open my eyes and look down at him, his jaw agape, with tears in his eye, moaning unabashedly beneath me as I use him.

“That’s it, Angel. I wanna feel you. Riding my cock so good,” he mumbles, chest rising and falling with every breath.

It feels magnificent, taking his thick cock down to the root, witnessing a man so powerful reduced down to something so pitiful. Even if only for a moment, I’m faced with the real him. I can see that he’s terrified, terrified of losing me and losing himself.

In the low light coming from the open window, his pale, milky skin appears almost translucent. He shines with a layer of sweat I can feel dampening my hands as I dig my nails into his hard chest.

“I love you,” I moan coarsely, lustful and out of breath. “I love you so much. Why do I love you? You make me so fucking angry all the fucking time.”

He only huffs out a laugh, cradling my hips and helping along with my movements, indulgently thrusting up into my cunt with every gyration.

I feel a great shudder through my muscles then. The faint chiming of bells throughout my body grows louder and louder. A sound so beautiful it could drive me mad. I grin lazily as I surrender to the pull, relentlessly chasing my orgasm atop him.

My vileness doesn’t subside; it only worsens the closer I get. I can’t control the emotions that manifest, welling up in my body and spewing past my lips in the form of foul phrases.

“Is this all you’re good for?” I spit out venomously. “Just a pretty face and a fat cock for me to use? You’re fucking pathetic,” I ramble at him, tears flooding my eyes. “Is this why you listen to Erwin so well? I see the way he looks at you. I bet he fucks your pretty ass so good—“

He scowls angrily before lifting himself up into a sitting position, keeping me in his lap and pressing his upper body against mine. “You ever speak of another man in this bed again, and I’ll make your last punishment look like child’s play,” he spits, laying an excruciating slap on my ass, causing me to scream, silencing my disgusting insults. “You’re so fucking adorable when you try to be mean,” he growls in my ear. “If you think I’m pathetic, you’d better look closer in the fucking mirror—“

I cut off his insult with a harsh slap to the face.

However, he only moans louder at my assault, a rough, broken sound. His thrusting also becomes rougher and more desperate in turn. “C’mon, Angel. I know you can do better than that,” he borderline slurs. “Give it to me good, like I know you want to. Split that pretty little pussy open on my cock and fuck me. C’mon, baby.”

The bell’s chiming is deafening now, and the pull is almost painful as I feel my release climbing. I impulsively let out a loud, wrathful yell and sink my teeth into the thick meat of his shoulder.

He lets out a shout and then a whimper, his cock twitching inside me with sick satisfaction.

I moan inhumanly and dig my teeth in deeper, as hard as I can, puncturing the layers of his skin as his syrupy blood pours into my mouth. It’s so pure, so sweet, like honey, sweeter than the strawberries, sweeter than anything. It rushes to my head like a drug. My eyes roll back, and I finally let go.

“Yessss, fuck,” he hisses out carnally, shuddering beneath me, shooting his cum deep within me as I twitch and convulse in his arms.

I unhinge my jaw from his flesh and lean back, letting the remaining amounts of blood on my tongue drip down my throat before looking him in the eye.

He looks back at me hypnotized and satisfied, holding my face in his hands as I ride out my bliss. “You’re so pretty like this, when I’m all over your mouth.”

I smile another lazy grin, flashing him my blood-stained teeth as he lays me down gently on the bed. I watch him as he lies down beside me, coming down from his own high. “Shit… I’m sorry,” I tell him as I come back to myself and see the state of his shoulder.

A bite mark in the mold of my teeth decorates the slope of his shoulder, blood still pooling up in the deepest parts of the wound, dripping onto the bedsheets below. He’s going to regret this when he has to wash out the stain.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “Never thought I’d see you so riled up.”

I hum in agreement. “Me neither.”

He turns on his side to face me, grabbing one of my braids between his fingers and running his thumb up and down the ridges. “Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?”

“No, I’m hungry,” I say, laying my head on his chest and throwing my body over his. “Can we please get something to eat?”

He nods, wrapping his arms around me. And with soft eyes and a gentle tone, he says, “Yeah, Angel. Anything you want.”

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engazed · 2 months ago

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Blackbird, Fly

Chapter 35: Sherrinford

Read it on AO3.

Read it on FFN.

#blackbird fly #the fallen #sherlock fanfiction #please read content warnings for this chapter

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degenerateshinji · 2 months ago

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last chapter😔

#READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS BEFORE READING !!! PLEASE.#shiguang #lu guang #cheng xiaoshi #link click #shiguang dailiren #sgdlr #link click fanart #fanart #my art #art #fanfiction #fanfic #we're having a fucking time with this one #i love 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺i love this chapter

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saingirl101 · 5 months ago

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Sacrament of the Hound

(aka a Commune Jayce Dark-fic that isn't good or bad ending but a secret third thing)

Chapter 6: Descension into Hellfire

Pairing: Jayvik

Fandom: Arcane

Rating: Explicit

PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS AT THE START OF THE CHAPTER.

Chapter 6 Summary:

Jayce and Viktor were in the greenhouse again, trying to work on the repairs to Vander’s psyche. They’d been leaning on either side of the hulking form in the astral plane, sorting through the memories of man and beast, when Viktor had suddenly sat up and looked out into the misty white space. ‘What’s wrong?’ Jayce’s words echo in this shared mind space, a discordant sound that causes a low growl from where Vander is slumped over. Viktor doesn’t answer him, instead waving his hand and dismissing them from the connection. Jayce blinks a few times as he finds himself back in his physical body, standing just a few feet away from Viktor who had his hands outstretched over Vander. Viktor winces somewhat as he pulls his hands back, staring with frustration as his hands crackle with purple light. Sky suddenly swarms into view beside him, watching Viktor’s sparking hands with an indecipherable look. Before she can say anything, Viktor turns to face Jayce, “We have company coming.” “Oh,” Jayce inquires, shifting his grip on his hammer into a more defensive stance. Viktor continues, “My old teacher. He was the colleague from the Undercity I told you about.”

#jayvik #jayvik fanfic #jayce x viktor #jayce talis #viktor arcane #arcane fanfic #morning repost #sacrament of the hound #this is the fuck around and find out chapter so please read the content warnings #that said the first part of this chapter is quite funny + theres smut so its not all doom and gloom

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blackcurrant-juice · 10 months ago

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bel is such a fucking loser lmfao, also love imuri taking none of his incel bullshit

#he was especially pathetic this chapter easy 10/10 #he gets worse with every chapter i fucking love him #make the exorcist fall in love is really good please read it (mind the content warnings though

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blightedlegion · 2 years ago

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to cure an obsession: chapter 39

“It just seems like a lot of trouble to go through for some idiot who tried to kill you,” David had remarked, the firelight pitting shadows across his scarred face. But it wasn’t just Frank. Meg dwelled on Nea, scarcely ever at home at all, scraping through the forests around the camp as if she might somehow find Susie there, or at least the remnants of Ormond to prove they weren’t gone altogether. Dwight, who seemed lost in a way she couldn’t nail down. Jeff, his jaw set, his eyes a darker hollow, and his soft stories about a medley of fucked up kids doing worse things to get by in a frozen wasteland.

after over a month long hiatus, chapter 39 is here! READ ON.

#dead by daylight #dbd fic #dbd legion #Please read the content warning list in chapter 1 lmao

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outoftheseine · 3 months ago

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- BUCKY BARNES FIC RECS 4 -

i’m so obsessed with catws!bucky you have no idea | note: please be aware of the authors’ warnings before reading. fics include canon tw’s like: violence, death, grief. torture and ptsd. some fics have 18+ content so minors please DNI.

part one | part two | part three | main masterlist | also check my latest list: matt murdock pt 2

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

the blade and the crown • knight!bucky barnes x queen!reader

↳ by @fandoms-writings (smut, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, secret relationship)

avoidance | chaos | strangers | power • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @ultralightpoe (angst, hurt/comfort, tw: ptsd)

illicit affairs • biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader

↳ by @auroralwriting (enemies to lovers, age gap, angst, gangs)

between a dream | part two | part three • tws!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bcksbarnes (angst, comfort, fluff)

before i could say it • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @fawniswriting (angst, fluff, insecure!bucky)

lessons in lovemaking • bucky barnes x blackwidow!reader

↳ by @artficlly (smut, touch starved!bucky, fluff, angst, bickering, tw: trauma, sa)

foundations • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @vunblr (dad!bucky, fluff, a little angsty, smut)

not in that way • bucky barnes x fwb!gn!reader

↳ by @jaggedamethyst (smut, mutual pining, miscommunication, angst, fluff)

say don’t go • college!hockey!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @the-winter-spider (angst, mean!bucky, pining, smut)

wake up | part two | part three • avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!reader

↳ by @marvelstoriesepic (very angsty)

the falcon, the winter soldier and static • bucky barnes x stark!reader

↳ by @theconstantsidekick

quiet down | stay quiet • roommate!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (smut)

the soldier’s keeper • bucky barnes x doctor!reader | soldat (part of the universe)

by @pome-seed (angst, kidnapping)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

be(tter) in reality with me • bucky barnes x pregnant!fem!reader

↳ by @t-lostinworlds (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

dear lover • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @johnkrrasinski (very fluffy, slight angst)

my girl • domestic!bucky barnes x reader

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trouble • bucky barnes x fem!reader /

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↳ by @ellemj (smut, angst, enemies to lovers, jealous,possessive!bucky, one bed trope)

4K notes · View notes

karinasbaby · 1 month ago

Text

BREATHE ME IN. ✱ MDNI ❕

synopsis. The ancient bloodline of serpent hybrids was hidden, closed off. Unknown, a mere unconfirmed sighting of them is enough to ring alarms of danger. But here you were, claimed and possessed by a snake that held a voice as smooth as honey and a touch as light as feather— what would happen when your curiosity over his kind gets the best of you and you want to unleash the side of him that was written down in history?

pairing. snake!jake x fem!reader (19+)❕warnings. PURE FLITH, like genuinely disgusting nasty questionable smut. DARK CONTENT, jake is obv a snake, fangs, subspace, blood drinking, mentions of stalking + kidnapping, he has magical venom like an aphrodisiac, venom feeding, unprotected sex, creampies, feeding rituals, supernatural bond formation, belly bulge, tongue sucking + throat fucking, knotting bcs he has a knot, body worship, womb + cervix worship & fucking, Jake has stalkerish tendencies, he bites u multiple times, oviposition like full on eggs cuz hes a reptile, like he lays eggs in u fyi, insane breeding kink like genuinely, soft moments but like just twice in the span of 16k words. word count. 16.7k

a,note. this is by far my nastiest fic i’ve ever written. half of me gen doesn’t want to post this here, it’s my first time ever writing + posting something like this. please read the warnings and minors do not interact. this fic contains dark content and some creepy stuff people might be uncomfortable with, read at your own risk & have a nice day ! + proofread at 9 am with zero hours of sleep (as usual)

The sound of pages turning reverberated through the walls.

You sat on the soft mattress, back pressing against the headboard while a pile of books accompanied your bedside table, fingers flicking from page to page.

A simple warm light dimmed the room, your shared bedroom that almost felt alive, your surroundings felt like they pulsed sometimes. The furniture feeling cold to the touch before turning warmer, this was yours and his sacred place, his nest.

It was where you were most comfortable with being, and he was most satisfied with you being. Engulfed in his warmth, in his pulse that synced with his heartbeat so he connected to you at all times.

The paper in front of you contained drawings, sketches, definitions, explanations. The first few that you skipped revolved around mermaids, wolf hybrids, panther hybrids— till you finally reached the chapter you wanted.

Snake hybrids. The offspring of humans, serpents and vipers.

“Snake hybrids have special characteristics, most of them carry split eyes that dilate at the sighting of a prey. Some have large tongues, dry and barbed. Extending a few inches past what’s considered normal depending on the hybrid bloodline—“

You flipped the page.

“A rare species of serpent crossbreds may be born with multiple different appendages, their tails—“

You flipped another page.

Vision skimming past the words written carefully onto each part, the different anatomies of snakes, their hybrid form and their viper form— you were too indulged in the book to notice the passing glimmer of scales.

Obsidian with a jade iridescence, thick and rough.

Jake slithered towards you quietly, silencing his hissing and the scratch of his scales as he made his way through his nest. Emerald slit eyes that locked in on you. His lover, his mate, his prey.

And before you could turn your wrist to turn the page— you felt it.

The warm, large brushing of his scurry tail. His scales providing a soothing chill before the warmth of his venom pulsed through it. “Entertaining yourself with books about me when I’m right here?” His tone was smooth, deep and hypnotising.

“I was just curious..” you closed the book, the sound of the cover shutting bringing a daunting smile to his sharp features, his eyes raked over you, slits tightening when he tilted his head.

“Hm? About what, love?” His tail circled your ankle before trailing upper, sneaking between the warmth of your inner thighs when you squirmed before wrapping around your waist, fully coiling himself around you as he inched his face closer.

You breathed out shakily, “about your kind..” “what about my kind?” His heartbeat pulsed around the walls in the nest and around you. Tail tensing the slightest bit making you feel the drumming beat that coursed through your viper’s veins.

His question stopped you. A flush warming around your neck at the embarrassment of admitting that you wanted to know about snakes mating. Serpents bonding. Vipers connecting and devoting themselves fully.

Because it’s true— you are curious. So curious as to why Jake has allowed you into his nest, has made you feel the shimmery scales of his tail yet still hasn’t fully claimed you.

The amount of stories you’ve heard of other humans being claimed by their serpent hybrids, the sheer force of their connection, the weight of the love they shared, the way they became biologically altered to accept their mate.. made you feel hollow.

Jake didn’t do any of that with you. Sure, he might’ve told you about his previous mate experiences. You might’ve gained knowledge about a thing or two of a sacred ritual passed down from fanged bloodlines, but you didn’t experience.

You wanted to feel jake connect to you as far as his reptile body allowed him to. You wanted to feel him devote himself completely to you, to mark you, to scent you, to bond to you for life and claim you.

You yearned to be claimed by him.

And Jake could already see the longing in your eyes, he felt it every time your fingers touched his scales. Each time you stared at his long tongue that flicked past his plump lips, he knew. And he wanted to claim you as badly as you wanted him, but he was still scared of hurting you.

Two different kinds, two different species. He had venom coursing through his veins next to his cold blood while yours pumped warmly, he had fangs that ached when he took too long to release while your teeth were half the size of his, even though Jake wanted to claim you— god, he wanted to worship you. There was still an intrusive thought that gnawed his mind that you’ll hurt. That he’ll break you, that you’re not ready for him.

“I could show you what you want to know, satisfy your curiosity..” he trailed off, bringing his clawed finger to trace down your jaw making you nuzzle against his touch. “But I might hurt you.” Jake whispered admittedly, the raise of your eyebrows and the surprise in your eyes almost making him regret telling you.

You wrapped your hand around his, warm. He could feel the unnoticeable tremor in your digits when you laced them through his. Squeezing once. “You’ll never hurt me, Jake.” Reassuring him, you looked straight at him. Allowing him to see the confidence in your gaze. “I know you never will.”

The serpent sighed, inching closer to push his forehead against yours while his tail tightened around your frame. “I’m still worried, but I do want to try.” Lips brushing around yours before he pulled away to let you see him, past his softness, past his worries, past everything.

To see his slit pupils dilate, to see the peek of his fangs that dripped with his nectar-like honey, to fully remind you just what you were asking of him.

God that thought alone made you crave him more.

“I will show you everything.” He purred, “give you anything you want to make you know me. Get your body used to me, to taste me.”

And Jake always kept his promises.

It starts the next day.

You’re in the comfort of his nest, tip of his tail stroking your thigh lazily, he was hovering above your laying frame, close. So close you could feel the swift lick of his tongue whenever it flicked out.

“We have a feeding ritual.” He hisses, voice barely above a whisper as you nod at his words. Concentration fully locked on him, giving him all your attention when he finally gave in to preparing you for him.

He’s inches away from your face, soft breaths fanning your skin as jake continues, “it’s intimate, I will mark your inside with my tongue, and feed you my venom.” You gulped.

Not because you were scared, maybe a small part of you was nervous but you knew about something like this before— a few fleeting articles that were titled with “venom feeding” and if anything, you were anticipating this.

Yet your eyebrows still furrowed, “my inside?” He nodded, “your throat. I’ll mark it with my tongue, claim it as my own.”

“Now let me show you, sweet thing.” And you nodded, he flicked his muscle out slowly this time. The tip passing his lips as his split tongue came into view. Both endings twitching independently as more came out.

His venom infused saliva shined in front of you. The sight of his abnormally long tongue made your mouth water. You suddenly felt a heat rush down your body, settling into your core when Jake showed you just how ready his tongue was to claim you.

Jake smirked at your bewildered expression, the dazed look in your eyes that followed his every move when he retracted his tongue back. “Are you ready?” Without even replying back to another word, your mouth opened for him.

Your innocent obedience making his emerald gaze dilate, your own tongue— sweet and small in comparison to his, lolling out just to show him how ready and prepared you were.

He breathed deeply through his nose, pulling you closer before he hovered his face above yours. And spat.

You gasped at the sight of the wet glob that glistened with his venom. It almost appeared to pulse in your eyes. As if his poison was just as impatient as you were to ruin you.

And when the long string finally landed on your awaiting tongue, you moaned at the flavour. So thick, so warm and sweet. An addictive tingle spreading around your mouth when the venom travelled along your tastebuds.

Your first taste of his nectarine venom, the one he prepared for you, to feed you only.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. A familiar heat awakening in his body when you closed your mouth, humming pleasantly at his venom that your body accepted. He kept trying to focus, reminding himself that something could still go wrong, you could reject his venom, your body could react negatively to it— but you were sloshing it around your mouth like you were tasting your favourite honey.

And Jake knew now that your body didn’t just accept him, it liked him. Enjoyed his taste, the tinge of his claim on your tongue.

“Swallow, sweetheart.” His clawed hands, rough looking but oh so gentle when cradling your face made you have no choice but to keep your eyes locked on his when you swallowed.

Where he stared at your throat, the small gulp of him going down your throat and coating it down on the way— to settle into your stomach, where your body will slowly break it down and he will become a part of you.

That thought alone, of being so close to you that you carry him made him almost lose his mind.

“You took it all so well, angel girl.” You closed your eyes when he caressed your neck, the base of his thumb pressing against your pulse point that sang for him. “You’re ready. Your body accepted me, it’s only fair that I feed it well now.”

And that’s when his tail circled your hips, scales wrapping around you protectively while his index finger tapped your cheek. “Open up again for me.” His demanding tone made you shudder in his hold before you let your mouth fall open again, jaw going slack while jake admired the new nest his tongue will find comfort in.

Your throat tightened around nothing, so wet and warm he couldn’t hold himself back from pushing his tongue out and slipping it inside of you.

His split tips slithered along your tongue. Barbed, wet and divided. You drooled uncontrollably around his muscle when he sank in further, brushing against the back of your throat when you gagged around him, hands gripping at his arms desperately as Jake tried his best to open you up more.

To accept more of him, more of his aching tongue that was about to burst from the amount of venom he held for you, more of his tongue that sent electrifying pulses down his body just from the taste of you.

The taste of your cavern all wrapped around him, trying her best to take more of him in but it felt like he was endless.

“J-Jake..” you mumbled, jaw flexing as it almost began to hurt from the flexion, but Jake was obsessed.

His hair ruffled in all directions, a fusion of your saliva with mixed his dripping down his chin while he kept his eyes closed for a few seconds. Like he was trying to memorise your taste, the feeling of your throat tightening around his tongue. The hot and dripping embrace of your body around his.

“Almost there.” And once he spoke those words— you felt it.

The release. The warm, continuous waves that pumped down your throat. Pure venom.

Poison that swirled straight from his pulsing glands from under his jaw that was altered— it wasn’t lethal, wasn’t dangerous, his body had specifically crafted this venom for a mate.

With the purpose of claiming, of marking, of scenting, of breeding.

It was thicker than the first taste he gave you. Sweeter than the first dribble you felt on your tongue. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when the steady pulses streamed down, you felt the heat radiating off of what you were swallowing, the way it marked its way down your throat all the way to your stomach to tuck itself inside of you. Where it pulsed.

The feeling of being owned from your mouth— your tongue and your throat like this was making a floating sensation swirl around your head. You couldn’t tell if this was from his venom or from the pleasure that you were feeling from having him this close, this connected to you.

But it didn’t matter, because everything felt good.

The forked tips of his tongue stroked down your throat, caressing every warm muscle, every corner and crevice they could reach while your serpent’s venom slipped inside, where you couldn’t help but involuntarily swallow around his tongue.

Jake almost lost it.

You were taking him. A sacred, bonding part of him that he’s never used on anyone like this, he’s never marked anyone like this. Yet here you were, with his barbed tongue so deep down your throat, drool that infused with your spilling tears drizzling down your neck while you sucked him more.

Like you weren’t aware of doing it, like it was your own body’s doing.

And jake continued feeding you. Who else would he feed if not his mate that was taking him in so sweetly? Pretty tight little throat pulsing around him when you gagged before sucking him in more, your muscles trying their best to take him in, to drag him in deeper and to have him continue.

Because Jake knew before you, that this wasn’t just a feeding. This was the start of an addiction.

He didn’t just feed your body his venom to claim you, he did it so your body knows that it’s owned. Knows that it has a viper that will protect it, nourish it, feed it.

And what’s a better way than making you know this by making you addicted to him? By making you crave him. Your throat that he just marked and claimed to need him, his venom becoming the only salvation to your thirst that he awakened. Because you’re his mate.

You’re his other half, you’re his.

It was past midnight when you woke up.

Sweaty, icy cold. Breathing heavily when your entire body tingled, an uncomfortable itch— an uncomfortable burn. A scratch that bled in your throat.

The feeling wasn’t new, you knew you were thirsty, the ache and dryness in your mouth almost made it feel like you were scratching it from the inside when you moved your tongue.

With bleary eyes you reached blindly towards the bedside table, where jake always brought a glass of water for you. Ignoring the shift of scales around your waist when you moved, fingers wrapping around the cooling cup before bringing it up to you.

And swallowing one sip, second sip.

Until you finished the whole glass without even meaning to, but your eyebrows furrowed.

Sleepy confusion clouding your senses when the ache didn’t dull, it continued. It felt like you didn’t even try, the water effectiveless.

Your breathing quickened when the sensation became entirely suffocating. Was the water too little? Was there something wrong with your mouth? You felt yourself almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

Almost, because the tail around you tightened before jake spoke right against your neck.

“Precious?” Voice still laced with sleep, tail unwrapping slightly as you turned around to face him. He could see the slumber slowly fading off your face along with the dampening along your temples. “Is something wrong?”

“My throat..” you sounded hoarse, wincing slightly at the discomfort that came along with moving your mouth, “it feels so dry.. and I just drank water, I think I need more.” You slung your legs down the side of the bed right when his clawed hand held your nightdress.

And then the serpent realised something.

“Baby.. it’s not the water.” Jake coaxed you back into the bed, “what?” You whispered now, the itch intensifying the longer you spent in bed, the longer your mouth stayed dry.

“It’s not the water, you can even test it for yourself.” He quickly reached back and gave you his glass from his side, the liquid sloshing as you brought it to your lips and gulped it in the blink of an eye. Still dry.

Your hand wrapped around your throat in irritation, “then what is it?” “It’s me.”

The serpent sat up on the bed, towering frame hovering above yours as his tail slithered to rest against your hips, “your throat isn't thirsty for water, it’s thirsty for me.” You gulped.

His clawed index ran along your jawline, “you had a taste of my venom, and that’s what your body wants now. It wants me, it knows me. Recognises me as your mate.”

His words, his tone, his slit pupils, his sharp claw— everything felt so territorial. Completely consuming, making you melt against the mattress as he pressed his brawny body to yours. “Your body knows I’m the one that’s supposed to feed it.”

Focused eyes tilted down to where you swallowed nervously, his hand instinctively wrapping around your feverish skin. “So let me feed you.” Jake felt the urge to feed you long before either of you decided to go to sleep, it hasn’t even been half a day since you first tasted him, but he knew you’d crave him again in a few hours.

He still wanted to test it.

To test your body, your senses. To see if you could depend on him, if your body could want him to function. To be hungry for him and his taste. To yearn for him.

Not that he wanted to ever starve you, to deprive you of the one thing his body produced for you. It was quite the opposite. He wanted the bond between you to strengthen, to grow, to make both of you dependent on each other.

He doesn’t waste another minute, don’t want to make either of you suffer because the ache in his fangs is becoming too much.

“Open up.” He demands, fingers gently squeezing your neck when your mouth fell open for him and he sighed. It fuelled him up, awakened an urge inside of him. Whenever your jaw stretched for him, he felt an electrifying excitement bloom in his chest.

A thirst that burned his throat. And just like that he slipped his tongue back inside of your mouth, split ends separating when they reached their home. Slithering in further and further while you both moaned at the feeling.

You gasped at the first drip of venom, so rich, so sweet. Your hands mindlessly reaching to his wrist while he moved to hold yours, interlacing your fingers as he sank deeper.

Going past the back of your throat, relishing in the feeling of you tightening around him before relaxing in acceptance, in recognition before your muscles began to swallow.

He groaned in pleasure when you hummed around his tongue, milking the venom that spilled inside of you for the second time because it was so reliving.

The moment you tasted him again, everything disappeared. The itch, the scratch and discomfort— gone.

Jake was right, it isn’t a thirst for water. It’s for him. The same venom he fed you, the same venom that warmed your insides and infused to your blood in your veins. Accepting him and desiring him.

It felt so intense, so overpowering to have him wrap his cool tail around you, lengthy tongue that fucked your throat shoved in so deep while he still held your hand gently, still kept his other right above your pulse points.

Because that’s where he was now. That’s where his venom pulsed. Right inside of you.

He fed you, nourishing your body and satisfying your thirst as you emptied his glands, falling further into a state of complete euphoria and bliss at being catered for. Limbs feeling heavier with each passing second when you whimpered around his mouth that pulsed more venom down your throat.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Jake whispered, his expression devoted as he memorised the way you looked under him, full of him. “You did amazing for me.. your body responded to me, wanted me. Let go now, little thing. Let me take care of you.” And you were slipping more.

Words enthralling, touch entrancing, tongue feeding. You were completely and utterly bonded.

“Let me fill you up till you sleep again.”

Jake’s scales pulsed around you, once, twice. Each one syncing with the rhythm of his heartbeat that he wrapped around you.

The sleep slipped out of your eyes when you fully registered the familiar warmth, slowly opening your lids to greet his slit pupils that admired you.

“Good morning, little nest.” His accent was more accentuated when his tone was groggy, the slumber still twinkling in his words when he sleepily smiled at you.

“Morning, handsome.” And your big, scary, serpent boyfriend hid his face in the crook of your neck, a specific throb crossing through his tail and your body when his heart fluttered.

He kissed your collarbone while you hummed sleepily, “I wasn’t too rough yesterday, was I?” Your fingers stroked his nape, shaking your head before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Not at all.”

Jake breathed out a sigh of relief as the weight on his chest was lifted off, the nagging thoughts of hurting you, injuring you or worse— scaring you. All floating away gently while he cradled you closer to him, flicking his tongue out to taste the air that carried your sweetness and your scent.

“You should stay in bed today, love.” He spoke gently, tip of his tail stroking your lower back with his velvety scales. “Let me take care of you today.” “Don’t you always do that, though?” He smirked.

“You’re my mate now. I am bonding to you, I’m the only one who should take care of you.”

Jake’s tone was low, his passion, devotion and protection blazing in each syllable. He was a hybrid after all, human to some extent but his soul was a serpent. Protective, possessive, fierce, demanding.

His mate came first, bond second and pride third. The bloodline has been sacred for centuries, rare and unknown. Some believed that it was that way intentionally. The vipers always hissed quietly, presence cloaked with their fanged bared out.

And even if the lions, the panthers, the wolves walked around freely, their bloodlines rare but loud, serpents were always silent.

That’s what set them apart, that’s what makes them dangerous.

They don’t seek, their mating ritual is vastly different from others. They choose and then they claim, and then they disappear.

Hiss along the shadows, hide behind corners where no one can find them. Because that’s how it’s always been like. That’s what makes Jake’s species unlike any other one.

That’s why your friends freaked out when you first confessed that you were seeing someone— a hybrid, a snake.

Because they declare their mates. They capture and they slither back to the dark.

That’s what happened to you an entire year ago.

You didn’t know that Jake’s attention was on you, that there was a certain pull, a tug he felt whenever he detected your scent. He chose you before you even knew him.

And when the shadows hissed darker at night in your room, when your skin became addicted to the cool of scales on it, when all the alarm signs were going off in your friends’ and families heads that it’s happening right in front of their eyes— you disappeared.

You didn’t fade, you didn’t get to say a goodbye, you slept at night and woke up in his nest the next morning.

That’s how it’s been for the past year, this is your home, where you enjoy your time and flourish in your bubble around him. He’s taken you far away, not a place you recognise, the language you still learn till this day but there are no prying eyes on you.

There are no more hands reaching to you to pull you away— just scales.

And you love it, you’ve grown to obsess over it with time.

“Then take care of me, always.” You don’t have to tell jake twice.

He’s nuzzling his face into your neck, breathing in your love deeply before lifting his head and tapping your cheek, “open.” His pupils dilate alongside yours automatically, “let me feed you now before you get hungry again.” And you do, you let him.

Pretty plump lips, still swollen from yesterday’s feeding falling open as he sighs in pride. He can spot the fading stickiness of his venom on the back of your throat, it’s almost time then.

Jake balances himself on his arms, face just a few inches apart from yours before he opens his own mouth, tongue falling out with multiple strings of saliva that pulsed with his poison extending down the length of his muscle, so long, so lethal yet it made its way to your mouth carefully.

The split ends softly brushing your lips when he released. Steady, long and thick pulses of his warm venom dripping right from his tongue and into your mouth, where you hummed in pleasure, in delight. At the feeling of relief cascading down your body in waves the more he breathed into you.

“Take it all, love.” He whispered, his tongue now moving just to circle around yours, still pulsing and still giving. While you only took, swallowing each and every drop. “Keep yourself full, always be full of me.” Jake lowered himself, tongue slipping right against yours before his divided tips touched the entrance of your throat again— just to stroke.

His eyes were half lidded when he spoke “feeling better now, sweetheart?” And you nodded, dazed and full. The heat of his venom enveloping you, wrapping around you completely and gently loving you. “Good girl.” Then jake retracted his muscle, placing a quick kiss to your open mouth before he chased your tongue.

Both of you instinctively moaning in pleasure when his forked tongue dragged against yours, eyes closing when your candied, gentle, human flavour bursted in his mouth while he kissed and nipped your tongue.

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes, a heat pooling down towards your core, a craving awakening making your hips twitch under him, right when jake began to suck on your tongue.

“Fuck.. baby..” he took more, mouth chasing after your sensitive tongue while you whimpered under him, still drunk on his venom and now he was sucking your tongue like it was the source, “tastes so sweet.. so addictive.” His lips wrapped more tightly, he sucked harshly, relishing in the vibrations that trailed down his throat from your mouth.

Jake’s hand gripped your hip, to stop you from rutting into him, and his fingertips almost burned from the heat you were radiating, so needy, so eager, so his.

Then with a final suck to the tip of your tongue, he trailed his kisses lower. Open mouthed with his barbed skin stroking you to mark and to claim. “I’ve got you.. I’ve got your throat.” He whispered, his lips reaching your lower stomach as he nipped your hip bone, just enough to graze it with his peeking fang. “And I’ve got you here.” Jake spoke right when his hand cupped your mound.

You gasped, a shudder tensing through your body at the slight feeling of relief, of having him touch you right where you need him the most, where your body yearned for him the most.

And jake chuckled.

A deep, crazed rumble of his chest that almost sounded like a purr, his slender fingers deftly stroked your sopping cunt, leaking and dripping when he has barely touched you, and the thought of you being so ready for him, your pretty little pussy wanting him so much that she’s salivating for him? Was making him dizzy.

He hissed, feral and possessive when his claw ripped your soaked panties open, the lace dangling off of it while he let out a guttural sound at the sight of you, so wet, glistening and tightening around nothing as if you’re inviting him in, welcoming him in— begging him to touch you.

“Look at you..” his claws disappeared in an instant, trailing down your folds gently just to hear you whimper under him. “She’s so needy for me..” he was stunned.

Infatuated, so so in love with your pretty hole, his hole, his womb and his home.

“Let’s see how she’ll react to me..” he spoke with the tip of his finger circling your entrance, swirling your nectarine spit making your whole body flutter under him. “She should recognise me now..” you didn’t know what he was talking about.

Because jake didn’t tell you that his venom doesn’t only make your throat crave him, it doesn’t only make your mouth thirst for him and your body to settle when he’s around.

The venom that he created for you, that ran in your veins right now and reached your womb— marks you.

From the inside out, wholly and entirely. You didn’t know this, but he owns you now. Your throat, your womb, your entire body.

And he is right. Because the second he kisses your entrance, soft lips nuzzling into your quivering walls, the first flick of his venom laced tongue just inside your entrance— barely in, just a simple poke.

Your back arched in the nest.

A broken sob and moan slipped past your lips at the sheer force, the sheer strength of the contraction that coursed through your body, absolutely and utterly divine.

The tears that aligned your waterline now slipped freely, your walls fluttered— tightening, widening, convulsing restlessly as if they were trying to milk something just at the slightest taste of his venom.

You felt the way a deeper part of you opened up— your tight, unscathed and untouched cervix pulsing right before flickering. As if the gate was entirely unsealed now, cervix swollen, low and ready.

And jake felt all of it, he felt the way your thighs twitched and jerked next to his head, he senses the way your pussy awakened, your womb fluttering open in preparation for him.

Because she recognised him, a single taste— a short, almost nonexistent slip of his venom and she released.

“Of course she does..” he laughed in awe, at the feeling of your body burning under him, at the breathless sounds that escaped your falling chest, at the way more slick poured out of you like it was urging him in.

The sight, the sense and the scent of everything alone made his head spin. The serpent felt the way his tail twitched in desperation, fingers shaking as he tried his best to not allow his claws to slip out, his slit pupils dilating so far his emerald iris is gone.

He felt the carnal urge, the primal pull that stirred inside of him. The need and the desire, the programmed, biological response of his kind to claim, to worship, to breed. The very cunt that’s anticipating him. Dripping in arousal and hunger in hopes of luring him in with his venom still pulsing through your veins, so reactive, so responsive.

But not tonight, not yet.

Jake will just worship you for tonight, please and satisfy your needy pussy in preparation for what’s to come.

That’s when he slipped his tongue inside of you. Lengthy muscle that pulsed within your walls at every contraction that he felt, you cried. Fingers gripping around the sheets so hard your knuckles paled, a sheen, thin layer of sweat illuminating your body while you fell apart above his nest.

You looked divine, something holy, something completely sacred.

And the serpent wanted to do nothing more than to devote himself to you. Mind, body and soul.

His pretty mate, his loving mate that accepted and thrived off of his venom— writhing under him, twitching and shaking as moans spilled out of your body, pure euphoria overflowing within you while jake retracted his tongue— only to thrust it back in entirely.

Movements sloppy, uncoordinated and mindless as he fucked your throbbing cunt on his tongue that dripped and drooled with his saliva and his venom, your walls clamped down on his muscle, the first contact of his poison right against you made you feel delirious.

Your body drank him in, tightening walls that he fucked were wrapping around him, milking his tongue that gave more and more of his flavour, his taste and your womb’s sedative.

Jake’s tail slashed behind him, his hips rutting restlessly against the layers of fabric of his nest under him. He felt his senses sparking when your taste filled him up. Eyes wild, claws peeking before disappearing and jake was just getting started.

His breaths were heavy as he felt himself unable to breathe. Tongue so deep inside of you, the forked edges dragged against your pulsing walls while his split tips nuzzled into your sweetest spots, you tasted so good, so tender.

He wrapped your thighs around his head with no intentions of slipping out anytime soon, his mouth suckled around your folds, drenched when his nose brushed against your puffy clit, needy and neglected that from one single stroke, you came.

You weren’t even able to process the build up of your climax, nor were you able to comprehend the waves of pleasure that crashed upon you, one after the other. Merciless as jake fucked you through it. Tongue piercing you faster, rougher and deeper.

Until you felt him reach your peak.

The one sacred spot inside of you. Hidden and tucked away so deep in safety, in security. The one spot that jake claimed.

The one the serpent wanted and marked. It belongs to him now, your fluttering, dripping cervix that throbbed the moment his poisoned tips reached it.

And you screamed, the sensation so new, so uncomfortable yet soothing— so painful yet pleasant, it made you feel like your mind was melting away, your head being filled with mush while your body went completely limp under him.

Jake was euphoric. High on the taste of you, on the feeling of you pulsing around him, and right when he reached the opening of your cervix, his place, the one he’s going to surrender himself too, he felt feral.

He’s reached his peak, the most precious part of his mate that he caressed with the tips of his tongue, slicking and stroking the tight muscle that twitched for him, called for him. He couldn’t ever think of retracting himself away, of leaving you alone, not when the sensation of your tightening was so addictive.

He could feel you from here, love you from here. He was able to sense the beat of your heart just because his tongue was touching the most intimate part of you, and he felt his body shake in relief. In satisfaction that this is his home.

Your womb, pretty and fluttery, prospered under his venom. The one he keeps feeding you, rolling out of his glands along his tongue and straight to your cervix, where your muscles pulsed like they were taking him in, drinking him up.

“You’re drinking from me..” he mouthed at your sensitive clit, your cunt was so overstimulated, so used but still restless against his tongue. “Your womb.. she’s taking from me. She recognises me..” he’s completely frenzied.

And you were slipping in and out of consciousness, unaware in a bubble of constant bliss, you didn’t know if you were cumming anymore— all you could feel was the consistent thrumming, the consistent pulling and convulsing of your walls around his tongue while the tips swirled and pushed at your cervix, almost like they were cuddling against it.

Jake’s body slumped, engulfed in elation while your figure rested under him, legs occasionally twitching when he caressed too hard, his mouth and tongue locked. This time on your cunt, feeding his venom inside of you to claim you, to leave a mark so deep it’s almost a wound, a scar that you’ll always carry.

A deep connection, a familiarity between his venom and your womb.

So he kept feeding you, even when your awareness floated away, keeping you sealed in a cloud of pure pleasure and surrender. Even when his muscles ached and his tail twitched wildly, and even when his sweatpants felt so warm and sticky from his mindless release right when your womb accepted him.

He was still inside of you, like a good, responsible and possessive mate that will do anything for his other half. He caressed you, he held you and kept you full while your cervix allowed it, welcomed it, loved it.

You were flourishing with his venom flooding you from the inside, and it was just the beginning.

The serpent placed a big porcelain plate in front of you. Vibrant with colours of different fruits and vegetables, the pretty hues from the berries and the chopped pieces of bell peppers alongside the golden glow of the fried eggs he made so early in the morning.

Packed with protein and filling, just what he needed for his mate. “Eat. All of it, angel.” His words were tender, touch even softer in comparison. He hovered behind you, towering frame that glimmered with scattered scales along his tail, Jake’s built was so impressively massive he could cover you with his body completely.

“I need you to be healthy, at all times. Need you to be energetic and strong.” His clawed finger ran along your shoulder blade, careful and featherlight. Teasing the strap of your short, satin nightgown that he picked up when your body was too sensitive to even move. You nodded at his attentiveness, heart swelling in your chest when he placed a soft kiss to your neck. “Eat well, my mate.”

And you did, fingers grabbing the honeyed toast apart as you chewed, strawberries bursting with sweetness in your mouth as you nourished your body the whole time your viper’s tail stroked your thighs, travelling along the dips and curves of your skin gently. Scales velvety soft as if each movement that was caressing you was kissing your body.

You turned around every now and then to pop a piece of fruit into his mouth, pulling apart your toast unevenly to give him the bigger pieces, and he accepted all of them. Flicking his long tongue out to tease your fingertips that held the food to his lips before he let the edge of his fang graze your skin, just to hear you giggle when he finally took the piece in his mouth.

He felt himself falling closer to you, even though there was barely in space between you two physically, he still was lured towards you. No matter how much he kissed you, touched you and breathed you in he always yearned to be closer.

To nuzzle into you, carve a space in your heart just for him and stay there, safe and protected in the spot that he flourished in. He could never feel himself close enough— if possible, he wanted to bore his entire soul to yours.

You fed him when you believed that it was the opposite, you loved and protected him when you thought that he was the one doing everything. But the truth was that he would’ve crumbled apart ages ago if it wasn’t for your kind touch and loving eyes that gazed at him like he hung the stars in your universe, he breathed the air into your lungs and he brought the sun out to your sky.

So devoted, so in love and so mated.

He adored you, his very being was wrapped around you, surrounding you in ways only a serpent could wrap around their mate. He wasn’t just bonding himself to you, eventually making himself just bonded— no, he was fated to you.

The same way you accepted him, the same way you were fated to him.

A fusion of your two souls, laced with warm blood and sweet venom that glowed between your chests, something beyond comprehension skills, beyond the relationships and marriages you were used too, because you weren’t in love with jake. You dedicated every piece of yourself to him.

And he held each piece with care, a teasing yet gentle hold. Just like the way he nipped your finger now.

“Ow! That one hurted.” You huffed, the serpent’s pupils thinned when he let out a sudden breath, a laugh at your endearing expression while you stared at your perfectly fine finger.

Jake quickly engulfed your finger in his hands, cool blooded heart unable to take the slight pout in your face. He pressed his lips right on the spot he grazed, “all better now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

The serpent kept you close, arm now cradling your side, tail wrapped protectively around your ankle all the while his own hand fed you from the plate since your hand should ‘just rest now’ according to his words.

And he pressed a soft kiss to your overly sweet mouth after each bite. As if to praise you, to seal the bite inside and make sure that you swallow it.

When you’re done with everything, he presses a kiss to your throat.

It felt like a ‘thank you’ rather than a kiss, a small appreciation for nurturing you and keeping you in his arms.

You cuddled closer to him, a habitual heat radiating off his body that pulsed against you. Making you feel every breath, every beat and every pulse. You were a part of him as much as he was a part of you.

“Jake..” your voice was giddy, calling for him as he hummed peacefully behind you, his lips were gently littering kisses along your shoulder, down your arm and right on the faint throb on your wrist.

And then you felt it.

A deep, carnal hunger, the same discomfort, the same itch from two nights ago— it made you shift in your seat, retracting your arm from his hold like you couldn’t fully breathe for a moment, your body was feverish.

Jake’s eyes narrowed, detecting the shift instantly and flicking his tongue out to taste the air— distress, agitation, thirst.

His tail unwrapped from your ankle, “everything okay?” Voice low, attentive and protective. You shook your head, a dryness aching in your throat. “I think .. that thing is happening again.” The serpent’s composure wavered.

It was working. Your body .. was thirsty for him again.

It made jake swoon. A slight tremor in his fingers when he breathed out shakily, his own body trembling in the need to provide, the need to protect and love.

He felt like he was drowning in you.

“Oh baby..” he cooed, muscular arms wrapping around your middle to lift you off and bring you back to the nest, your safe space and his home. He carried you tenderly, claws nowhere to be seen while his soft palms caressed your skin.

Jake laid you down above the fabrics, the cloths and clothes and the blankets that he chose, his own larger body hovering above you while your stomach churned in hunger. The feeling bubbling up and burning your throat, making you whimper in his hold as he shushed you softly.

He leaned down to your neck, pressing his nose right above your pulse point, each thump making his muscles relax as he flicked his tongue out— little beads of poison glittering that he licked down your skin.

The serpent kept moving, nuzzling your skin, kissing your collarbones, licking right above your breasts, nipping along your shoulders while his palm pressed on your lower stomach— right above your uterus where you felt a contraction pulse the moment his skin touched yours.

A gasp slipped out of you at the feeling, a sudden rush of heat washing down your body as you began gushing, folds soaking through your panties while Jake gazed at you in awe. “You’re already calling for me..” he was mesmerised.

“Your womb .. she’s calling for me again. She recognises me even more than I expected.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead right to the heat source, right between your hips, “I still have to prepare you more for me, love.”

“Still need you to be ready for me.. so you can take all of me.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, words of reassurance and calm spilling past his lips but there trickles of sweat on his temples, the tips of his claws almost fully appearing— and that’s when you noticed that Jake was holding himself back from you.

“Jake .. please.” You whimpered, weak hands curling around him as your hips began to ache in need, a soreness spreading from your throat, to your stomach that felt empty and down between your legs.. where you were practically twitching in desire.

Your nails dug into his muscles, “I need you right now, I need you.” Jake inhaled sharply, his own pants tightening around him, the way you looked at him— with the gentlest twinkle of tears in your eyes, lips wobbling when you begged him to give himself fully to you, to not restrain himself, not now and not ever.

But Jake couldn’t, you weren’t ready for him. He knew this and no matter how much it hurt him— he didn’t want to hurt you.

He’ll take all the needed time to prepare you, to prepare your body for him. So when the time does actually come, you’ll fully accept him instead of being in pain. He could never make you uncomfortable knowing that he was the cause.

“Sweetheart.. you know I can’t. Not yet.” He caressed your jaw, fingers featherlight as they went down your neck, you felt small tears drop slip down your temples that he didn’t hesitate to lick up, the sight of you almost making him whimper with the urge to just fully claim you, adore you and make you his.

“You’re not ready for me yet, little nest.” He mumbled against your skin, tone shaky like his words were hurting him. “but once you are— I promise I’ll never let you go a day without being filled of me. I promise I’ll always let you feel me in any way that you want. You’ll fully breathe me in.”

“But for now, I’ll just keep soothing you with my venom.” His lips were now returning to your neck, fangs peeking past his plump lips that became swollen from the kissing. “Ready, baby?” You nodded your head quickly, tears springing down your eyes fully in anticipation at him finally sedating you.

And then it happened— his fangs sunk right into your pulse point. The sharp tips puncturing your skin, your vein, venom instantly gushing inside of you making your blood flare.

You didn’t even have time to process the pain— the burning wound and sinking of his fangs, didn’t even have time to process the scream that it ripped out from your chest before you fell back to the mattress the moment his poison hit your blood stream directly. No longer being drunk from your throat, it was being injected.

And the feeling was making you intoxicated. Completely drunk in the matter of seconds as you mewled in euphoria, pleasure coursing through you, intensifying with every heart beat inside of you that rushed, picking up the pace when jake growled into your skin.

He moaned when your flavour hit his tongue. The serpent, though not one to crave blood, felt his head spin at yours. The crimson warmth that flushed into his mouth, he was drinking the life of you, the life of his mate.

Then you started to feel it— the more he drank, the more he took, the tighter his hands gripped your hips, the more you floated.

Slowly, faintly slipping out of the embrace of consciousness. Your eyelids became droopy, breaths slow and deep while your entire body relaxed.

Jake noticed all of it. He just venom-fed you into subspace.

The feeling of your body fully surrendering to him, to his scales, to his fangs and to his venom made him groan in satisfaction. You were giving him your complete all.

“That’s right, baby..” he muttered, mouth still so wet of you while you whimpered in his hold, so spent and so high on his poison. The sensation of him flooding you was so electrifying yet so soothing. It was like your entire body was waiting for this again, “go under for me.. just like that.”

Jake didn’t know it yet, but this version of you, so pliant, so unguarded was his favourite. He could protect you all he wanted, kiss you and caress you all he wanted all the while you trusted him just enough to let him do absolutely anything to you.

“Stay there for me, love.. I’ll take care of you.” And he did. His venom pulsed inside of you carefully, filling you up and making ecstasy rush through your entire body that fluttered in his hold. You let go entirely. Not a single thought, a single voice or a single breath in your head. Besides the warmth of his body and the stroke of his scaled tail around your calf. “I always will.”

With his arms wrapped protectively around you and his fangs snug inside of you— you slept in peace. Cradled in the most gentle hold that’s ever touched you, as if you were made of the most divine glass to bless Earth, and in Jake’s eyes of course you were, you were the most precious human he’s ever laid eyes on.

This bite— wasn’t just a simple feeding from him to you, it wasn’t just a bite. It was complete submission, it was dedication and it a confession. All this wasn’t for him, he already knew he had you wrapped around him just like the way he had his tail coiled around you, he knew he had a home in your soul in the same way you owned his.

But this was a mark of love, a promise to the bond that you both created. One that bridged your mortal heart to his serpent one, webbing in between and making them inseparable. And now, each pulse of your heart was connected to his. Each breath that you inhaled to your lungs, he exhaled them for you. Each thought that annoyed your mind, he fought it off for you.

This was past anything that you could’ve shared with another human, and way more exceptional than any mating he could’ve had with another hybrid. Because you were connecting two universe together with each moment you both breathed together— you connected a human to a snake.

A bond that flourished, that bloomed and went beyond any other previous love, relationship or marriage.

You had your soul tied to his now, and you both grew to adore this bond more day by day.

It happens without either of you knowing, without either of you catching on, but the connection grows.

Each night that you spend wrapped in his coils, the taste of his venom still fresh in your tongue and his claws retracted with his hand covering your waist protectively? It blooms.

With every shared breath, it pulses to life. With every exchanged kiss, it stirred like it was awakening— akin to an ancient flame, an ancient dream, a promise. Spoken only between the lips of a human and a serpent, but kept safe. Secure with your love and his scales.

Then it grew, it blossomed. A life formed between the two of you, a new breath that swelled over your relationship, your bond grew. Fully forming, fully developing and connecting you to him, body, mind, soul and heart.

It started off when you were in the den, an open book between your hands while you cuddled up against his hoodie in the nest. Jake was outside, he muttered something about hybrid meetings before disappearing behind the door.

And then you felt a tug— a push at your chest, heat building up but not the good kind, no. You felt angry.

Like something had agitated you, something pissed you off. Something that went wrong.

You sat up right on the bed, brows furrowed at confusion and the way your hands were almost twitching with fury. That’s when the door of your house slammed open, almost getting thrown off of its hinges.

In came Jake. Pupils slit entirely, almost appearing like a thin line as his emerald eyes were dim. Claws full unsheathed while his tail lashed behind him like a whip. He stormed inside of the place, steps heavy and mad.

“Jake..?” You called but his ears were ringing. He didn’t spot your figure walking into the living room, too busy pacing around the area while running his claws through his hair. “Did something happen at the meeting?” When your quiet, calm voice finally registered into his senses, he exhaled.

He breathed for the first time in hours.

An instant relief rushed through him— the same one that you felt as the bond now humming. In satisfaction, in relief at the proximity.

“No.. nothing happened, love. Nothing that you need to worry about.” Jake walked towards you, the anger in his posture fully dissipating when he inched closer and laid his palms on your hips. The touch making him melt against you. “It’s .. nothing serious.” He swallowed heavily.

But you already knew. You felt it.

Shaking your head, “Jake .. I know you’re angry because something went wrong.” Now his eyes were locked on you. “I don’t know what it is.. but it felt like something that you worked hard on was messed up. Like the frustration you get when your effort just goes to waste.” The serpent stilled.

“How did you.. figure all this out?”

“I don’t know, I just felt it.” He tilted his head.

You weren’t a hybrid that could pick up on scent changes, besides the fact that he did storm inside the house with his mannerisms screaming anger, you still knew too much.

“I felt your anger.” You added, your words now making his eyebrow arch while his claws grazed your skin just a tiny bit.

Inching closer, “I felt the way your frustration bloomed in your chest, the way your hands..” you lowered yours to hold onto his, thumb pressing gently against his palm, “the way they shook in anger.”

Jake exhaled shakily.

“I don’t know why, I think it’s this bond thing we have going on. But I truly felt everything like I was the one experiencing.” Your words— you simply didn’t know how much they weighed to jake.

You didn’t know that this was just more confirmation to him that you’re his mate. That the bond is settling in, fully connecting and spreading further into your lives. You felt his emotions when he wasn’t even near you.

Maybe you were unaware, or maybe you weren’t ready to face something like this. But you were already developing a sense of instinct for him. For your mate. This sense, had already existed in jake since he was born, it’s only that now it found its other half.

You were completing him without even knowing.

The bond was flourishing, roaring in love and devotion that only thrummed harder when your mate was close by.

He pressed his forehead to yours, all of his limbs felt relaxed. “It is the bond. You’re not just marked by me anymore, you’re mine and I’m yours. Emotions, thoughts and soul wise.”

“You feel what I feel. That’s how close we are now.” And you only blinked at him in awe, mesmerised by the bond and your creation— this special connection that you formed and developed with Jake with your bare hands, now made you exist within him the same way he will within you.

Over the days, it only blossomed more.

Your thoughts were no longer fully yours, they were sharing a space with Jake’s. And sometimes it was a bit too much.

“I wonder how our kids will look like..” “Jake.” He perked up, tongue flicking out nervously as he looked at you with his eyes widened. “Can you not wonder about our kids when I’m trying to read?” You could’ve sworn you felt just the lightest flush on the tips of his ears. “Sorry..”

“Will i be asking him too much if—“ you’re not even given the chance to continue before you feel a warm tail wrapping around your ankle. Holding you gently as his burly figure slithered behind you. “Never.” He hissed, “you’ll never ask for too much.”

But it was never just your thoughts. Jake started to feel the way you do as well.

Whenever you felt colder than usual, he would cuddle up next to you wordlessly. His scales tangling around you multiple times while he places a gentle kiss on your temple.

The one day you woke up craving something sweet for breakfast, he already had an entire plate of honeyed toast and waffles piling up next to chopped fruits. And he would feed the pieces to you one by one. Glued to your side as he nourished you right in front of his eyes.

With his closeness, the shared attachment and the continuous reaching out for each other, the bond was enchanted. It fluttered whenever the serpent touched a sensitive spot on your skin, buzzed when you kissed his neck.

It bent when he didn’t glance at you in hours. It coiled when you didn’t touch him for a night.

The connection was an indicator and a regulator of everything. Syncing your heartbeats, your thoughts, your souls.

It kept you bounded to jake. In all ways possible, you were his.

That’s why when you woke up one day, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen, a warmth burning your skin and an itch that you couldn’t drink away— jake was by your side before you even called for him.

Because he didn’t need you to be verbal about anything anymore, he felt it before you even spoke it.

The discomfort, the pain and shuddering when your entire body ached. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Your voice was hushed when you curled in on yourself in the middle of his nest. Jake was on his knees next to you, slit pupils studying your every move— before the realisation dawned on him.

It wasn’t discomfort it was a tug.

It wasn’t pain it was a call.

“My body .. feels so wrong. It feels so odd.” Because it was ready. “Love..” the air from his lungs was knocked out the second you whimpered and he smelt it.

Like a carnal urge awakening, ripping its way to life within him— he picked up your scent, your need. Your arousal, sweet and addictive wafting through the air to his nose.

His split tongue uncontrollably flicked out to taste it, to taste the tiniest tinge of your nectarine in the air. And he groaned when he realised that you weren’t just ready— you were fertile for him. You tasted fertile.

“It’s not wrong.. or odd.” The serpent hissed, now climbing next to your curled body before his tail and arms engulfed you. “Your body is calling for me, little nest.” You grunted at his words, arousal gushing between your legs like flowing slick. “You’re ready for me.” And at that your legs instinctively opened.

Like a welcoming gesture, the warmth spreading between you both as Jake coiled himself around you, his massive arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close, grounding you. While the other slipped down your hips.

You moaned in relief when he mouthed at your shoulder, fingers dipping past your soaked underwear while the tip of his nose brushed right against your pulse point— and he nuzzled closer. Kissing, nipping, licking at your skin to scent you. Right above your heart beat.

“My pretty mate..” his claws were retracted, rough fingers toying with your folds making you gasp in his hold. “All ready for me.. finally calling for me.” The serpent felt delirious.

He felt the way that the desire that rushed through you, was stemming from the deepest parts of your soul. He was witnessing you naked. Completely bare for his eyes, searching and reaching towards him.

Towards the only person you know that will hold you, soothe you and protect you. Your mate.

Jake moved to hover above you, his tail now circling your hips with the tip stroking your lower stomach where the skin burned him. You looked up at him, pretty eyes glossy with expectancy, waiting when your body blazed with need.

And when you felt a pulse, a contraction blooming in your abdomen in pain— you whimpered his name. So soft, so broken and defenceless.

Jake crumbled entirely. All restraint and plans of being gentle with you in your first time evaporating away.

He needed you, and you need him right now.

“Shh— sweetheart, don’t worry. I’ve got you..” the serpent’s tail coiled around one of your thighs before pulling it towards his hips, opening you. His mouth latched onto your jaw, flicking his divided tongue along your skin while you shuddered under him. Gasps and sighs all falling from your lips as waves of relief washed down on you, the bond humming in satisfaction whenever jake touched you.

“I’ve got you.. your mate’s got you, already so sweet and ready for me..” Jake babbled on the lower his kisses went, plump lips already swollen trailing down your collarbone before he ripped apart your nightgown. Claws shredding the soft satin before settling above your flushed skin gently. So careful. “You’re all ready for me.. I can feel it.” He pressed his palm onto your lower stomach—

And he could’ve sworn he felt a throb. Right under his touch.

Jake couldn’t help the frenzied smile that etched on his features.

You groaned in pleasure when he pressed— applying light pressure, his pupils dilating when your scent sharpened. Sweetened. And the throbbing under his palm continued.

“There she is..” his voice was low, so low it sounded like he was purring. He leaned right next to your ear, akin to a predator taunting their prey, territorial and crazed. “There’s my favourite place.. pulsing for me.” He flicked his tongue out to taste you again. The need, the lust and the desire.

He pressed harder. “Feel that, angel? That’s you wanting me. That’s you being my mate.” Jake breathed in, inhaling your scent like it was his air— like he couldn’t live without it. “That’s where I’m gonna be at all times now. I’m going to keep you full. Here. Always.”

Your limbs were weak, the hunger now burning its way through your veins and lighting you on fire. Like a lava waiting just for the right moment to erupt inside of you, yet you only could whimper under jake. Could only look at him with tears in your eyes in hopes of him doing something.

The serpent then sensed everything.

The burn in your womb, the ache in your body, the warmth pooling between your legs— the bond convulsing with anticipation and jake was left gasping for breath. “Fuck.. baby, this is all for me? This is how you feel for me?” And you nodded because he wasn’t aware of the way he had you suffocating in his love. Wasn’t aware that you were drowning in him.

Now Jake didn’t want to do anything besides the exact same.

To cover and wrap and strangle himself with you. He suddenly lowered himself and finally kissed you.

The gasps and moans fell past your lips effortlessly, the kiss was anything but that. It was the two of you breathing one another in. Biting, licking, sucking with your teeth clashing. His spit instantly dribbled down your throat, the venom bursting in your tongue like it just sprung you back to life and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around the serpent’s neck to bring him closer, to take more.

Jake’s entire body was pressed against yours. His tail thrumming with his heart beat that pulsed wildly, smooth scales turning warmer by the second, you moaned into his mouth and he swallowed. “So pretty.. every pretty noise you make.. every pretty moan are all mine.” He bit on your lower lip, brushing his split ends while tears aligned your waterline, “just mine. Only mine.”

“Jake.. please,” your voice was barely audible, a small, broken sound between all his hissing. “I need you, really bad. It hurts.” Jake inhaled sharply,

And then he unleashed everything.

His hands, that were so gently caressing your skin, held onto your wrists and pinned them upwards. He pushed his body against yours, his tail pressing at your hips after coiling around once— trapping you under him.

The serpent hissed loudly. A light vibration rumbling in his chest that spread to your body, he began to rut into you. Hips rubbing and grinding mindlessly, you felt a poke— a pressure. Of something massive, warm, throbbing.

The size alone makes you choke a gasp out, jake smiled like he knew that you felt him. “Felt me, little nest? I’m gonna be inside you all the time now.” He whispered hotly into your skin. “Gonna let you crave me so much you’ll want me in all the time, everyday.” And you knew that he meant every word. Because Jake always kept his promises.

He loved the way your wetness seeped through his clothes to coat him. Loved the way you were so soaked and so eager to claim you couldn’t help yourself but do it even without him touching you. He wanted you to claim and mark him just as bad as he wanted to do it to you, and now was his chance to bring all his dreams to life.

While you were shuddering and gasping beneath him, his tail uncoiled.

The tip that once rested on your hip, inched closer to your middle— right before dipping under your panties.

You froze.

“Feel me, baby?” His tail thrusted deeper, your pussy tightened around his scales that soothed your walls. Pulsing, throbbing and so hot it felt like he was leaking inside of you. You sobbed when the stretch settled in, so wide it burned you from the inside out. Yet it felt so good. Especially when he pressed down his palm, feeling right where he was. “I’m right here, angel. I’m home.”

You squealed when his rough tip, now soft and swollen nuzzled right into your cervix opening. The small, pulsating rhythm of the beginning of your uterus throbbing at the contact. You sniffled as you weakly held onto him, body completely open and vulnerable at his mercy. “Jake.. a-are you sure this is okay—?” You sounded so shy. So bewildered at what he was doing to you, to your little pussy that could only stretch and drool around him.

The serpent laughed breathlessly. “Of course, baby. You’re taking me so well.. wrapping around my tail so nicely, look how pretty you look all open for me.” His praises fell off his lips like honey, Jake felt the way you clenched around his scales as he stretched you open. Your cunt dripping more and more each time he pulled back just the slightest bit before pushing his tail all the way back in.

Up until his swollen tip pressed against your cervix, and then began to pulse.

Your body twitched above the nest. Hips jerking forward when Jake didn’t pull back, he only throbbed right into your opening like his tail was kissing your cervix. “J-Jake.. what’s going on—“ “shhh Angel girl. Don’t worry about anything, let your mate prepare your pretty womb.” And then you felt the force, the pull.

The suction right against your tight ring of muscles. Like he was pulling your uterus down and making it bloom open at the same time— you felt the way your womb contracted right before dilating at his command.

And at the sensation of the hot, sticky and wet sucking, you thrashed in his hold. Your entire body felt like it was melting away while Jake wrapped his arms around you roughly, to keep you in place when you sobbed into his neck.

You felt so overwhelmed. The feeling was building up inside of you so rapidly, your heart thundered in your chest, struggling to keep up with everything that was happening.

From his whispered praises, sloppy mouth kissing and licking anywhere he could reach, the peak of his claws appearing every second just to dig and then disappear— and his tail. His tail that felt like it was splitting you as it sucked at your cervix, trembling as if to beg for your womb to let it inside. Everything felt debauched, so cruel yet so blissful.

“Gonna make your needy womb all open for me..” the serpent grunted breathlessly next to your ear, tongue flicking to lick the shell before he spoke again. “Get you all pretty and ready for me.. so you’ll be able to carry my clutch, baby.” You whimpered.

Throat hoarse from the consistent moaning and sobbing, eyelashes heavy from the unshed tears, the nest felt unbearable— yet it was also the only place you wanted to be in right now. The air so thick with his scent, with your slick and his wafting pheromones that floated away from his scales. Sweat clinging to both of your bodies, increasing the more his skin rubbed to yours.

Jake felt his senses slipping through his fingers, nostrils flared as he tried his best to inhale into his suffocating lungs. He could only feel you. Only breathe and sense you. His instincts flaring yet calming down at the same time, his thoughts incoherent as an ancient, a primitive hiss echoed through him. Like the serpent inside of Jake fully awakened this time.

With the intention to arouse, to stake, to coil around what’s his.

That was exactly what his body was moving to do before he was even aware of it. He felt so lost, so drunk and mindless with his hands gripping your hips to anchor himself. Yet nothing helped, he felt himself slipping further into the warmth, the engulfing embrace of lust and mating.

He wanted nothing more than to be connected to you in the most intimate way possible. His tail that cradled your cervix, the opening that fluttered around him like a blooming flower— latched on. Sucking and pulling like your womb was its only lifeline. Jake shuddered above you the more his body desperately pulled.

Your legs folded around his hips, pulling his tail even closer when your entire body yearned for him. Thirst amplifying by the second, your skin was feverish. Blazing with an entire layer of glistening sweat. You could no longer talk or speak— you left all the talking to your weak limbs that gripped onto the serpent like he was the only thing keeping secure, keeping you afloat above the sea of need that you both were drowning in.

It felt too intimate, too close, too much. You couldn’t breathe without his hot mouth touching you in some way, you felt your mind shut down the moment his hands would move from one place to another— and jake was weak.

His hands almost frail while his legs trembled. “Shit sweetheart.. you’re taking me in so well.” His tone airy, barely carrying the usual edge to it when he was melting on top of you. You could only flutter around his tail, your shyness still glowing and it made his heart lurch to his throat.

Then he moved his hand, one stayed anchored next to your head to steady himself while the other dipped low. He lowered himself to litter kisses down your neck, whispers of loving, sweet promises all spoken carefully to your skin only. Like it was a promise between him and your body alone.

Jake’s figure was restless. Twitchy, so sensitive. He felt something unfurling within him— something he wasn’t fully prepared for himself. And it excited him and terrified him at the same time.

The scratch of claws against his ribs, the graze of fangs against his throat. He was holding back his serpent from fully possessing him. Coming out and claiming, marking and hurting. Because that’s what his kind did.

It was driving him insane. But you looked so pretty under him.. writhing just from his tail that suckled on your womb like it was breathing air. A singular moment of break would mean that he would starve. His movements were all steady, stable. continuous.

Yet there was an urge to just dig his claws inside of you. To land his final touch and lay his clutch in your warmth— to fully possess you and change you. Witness the way your body will adapt to him.

The effect of him on you.

Jake tried his hardest to hold back, even if he was thrusting his tail inside of you like he was chasing his own high. Even if he felt the way you gushed and shuddered around him when your climax fluttered through you, he still attempted his best to tame his animalistic side.

But serpents were always stronger than humans. He could only do so much with his humane abilities—

That’s why he slipped his tail out in the blink of an eye, his pupils slitting to thin threads when a cry fell from your lips right before he flipped you over onto your stomach.

The serpent was wild. Claws now fully digging into your skin making you whimper in pain, his muscular chest pressed to your back. Pushing you towards the mattress while he held your hips, shifting them upwards to press against his own.

He was completely slipping. Fangs bared, venom dripping down his throat. A deadly glint in his as his breaths came out shallow. The mortal cuffs he had forced upon himself melting entirely when a painful throb spread right from under his abdomen—

From right below his waistline, where his slit slowly folded open to allow his erect cock to slither from behind his iridescent scales— he was massive. Awakened and excited. Way past the average human size, tip a primal red while his base flushed gently with the same gleaming dark emerald of his scales.

And he was leaking so much you would’ve thought that it was his climax instead. Pretty, opaline with infused venom ropes of cum drizzled past his length. Dripping onto the fabrics of the nest when he pressed the head of his cock to your sopping entrance.

He felt absolutely feral. His hands trembling, attempting his best to keep him steady while he teased your cunt. The serpent’s mouth was unable to detach from your body, “mine mine mine..” he whispered with his eyes half lidded, drowning in desire.

“All mine.. my pretty mate, my little nest.” He spoke, wrapping one of his hands around your neck. Fully thrusting inside of you. “There we go..” and you were panting.

He was so big, so deep. “J-jake.. please slow down—“ he paused.

Length throbbing, flaring between her stretched walls. “You want me to slow down.. when she’s been waiting for me?” Jake mocked.

His grip on your jaw tightened, sharp nails indenting your skin. “How could I possibly do that, baby?” Now his voice was softer. Desperate, wet with the leaking venom from his fangs. He talked like he was guilt tripping you, like he couldn’t believe that you wanted him to slow down. Like it hurt.

“Just a little bit— don’t stop, m’not asking you to..” the serpent exhaled heavily, continuing to sheath himself inside of you. “You don’t get what you do to me, baby..”

“You dont get what I want to do to you right now..” his voice was unlike his. Something dark, something ferocious spoke from within him. Thick with malice, webbed in the impulse to ruin.

And you were the victim. You were the chosen one to take. The thought alone made you shiver beneath him, goosebumps appearing making the animal behind you chuckle in amusement.

“Scared?” Jake snarled right next to your ear. Smiling when more tears slipped past your eyes— from the adrenaline that dug into your heart, the swirled combination of fear and excitement— terror and arousal. “No need to be scared, baby.. I’m just here to take care of you.”

He whispered like he was trying to distract you. Like his words could conceal the burn, the unbearable stretch of his serpent cock that thrusted inside of you.

You gasped wordlessly, back arching when fresh tears aligned along your jaw. Every single inch of your body felt electrified while you felt almost suffocated. “Breathe.” Jake growled.

Fangs brushing your ear. You struggled, you felt consumed. Undertaken by a dizzying fog of pleasure and euphoria— so strong it numbed you. “Breathe baby..” this time his thumbs pressed right above your jugular vein making you choke.

“J-jake—! S’too much— too deep—!” “But baby you’re taking it so well though..” you cried when his hand creeped to close just lightly around your mouth. “Listen to her, angel.” And you did. The wet, noisy and obscene sounds of your pussy clenching around him when he thrusted, pulling his hips back for a slight second— only letting you feel his tip before shoving his cock inside of your cunt that squirted in relief. “How am I supposed to slow down when this is how you sound for me?”

He trembled behind you. Legs twitching with his pelvis pressing flush into you. “You’re taking your mate too good, sweetness..” the pleasure creeped right up his spine, the sensation making him guttered. “Too good, baby.. you’re driving me insane.”

So soft, so warm. Searingly hot. Your entire body flushed under him, womb pulsing as the head of his swollen cock kept kissing it, pulling it and pushing it like it loved toying with your deepest, most sacred part. His favourite part.

All the while his hovering figure leaned down lower and lower. Until he had his front pressed to your back. Each breath that left his lungs fanned around your skin. His tongue flicked out to taste the thick air. It tasted so abundant with your flavours.

“You’re all mine, angel.. only mine. Just mine. My pretty mate that I’ll love and fill forever.” With each word he pushed more. He stayed inside more. Each time making your limbs melt further above the nest. Everything felt so good— a spell that he spoke in an unknown, ancient language that only he knew the gravity of before blowing it towards you.

He had you fully under his control. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. You barely could move. You were unable to do anything— and for some reason it felt nice.

It was comforting to have his weight pinning you down. Comforting to know that no matter how much your needy cervix ached, he’ll always be there to kiss it better.

It made you feel so safe. So protected and cared for when your mate worshipped you like you were the only religion he knew. The only one he believed in and the only one he saw.

With each stroke of his slick cock that spilled heat inside of you, it felt like your walls were hugging him back. So intimately holding him close even the serpent exhaled shakily at being so accepted— so loved.

Jake then picked up the pace, the slow, deep thrusts shifting into more brutal ones— untamed and beast-like. You mewled into the feathery pillow. So weak compared to the uncontrollable hissing behind you.

Your pussy sucked him in, cervix moulding around his tip the more he teased it. “Feel me here, baby? Doesn’t it feel good to have me here?” And he pressed on your lower stomach. Caressing the bulge of his viper cock that massaged your insides, he felt every flutter, every vein and every ridge while you cried, so overwhelmed.

“F-fuck yes—! I love it, I love it so much— I love how deep you are in me, jakey—“ you babbled, drunk. Wholly under the altered cloud of pleasure he always manages to form around your head. Jake growled at your tone, so airy. He could practically taste how high on his love you were. “Yeah, baby? I’m gonna be here all the time now. Gonna keep your greedy cunt stuffed of me.” His claws glowed, fangs almost vibrating in instinct.

Mark. Claim. Bite. Ruin.

And Jake sunk his teeth right into your shoulder blade, the sensation instantly making you unravel around him as you milked his cock that burned. His hips snapping against you wildly while your arousal drizzled down onto the nest, ruining everything just like the way you were right now.

Sobbing, vision spotted with your ears ringing as Jake fucked you through your orgasm before pulling another one out of you. Your womb was convulsing. Contractions washing down on your body so painfully yet the waves of ecstasy were stronger.

The serpent then injected his venom into you again. The flush of the sweetness bursting in your veins from the hidden hunger. The unknown crave that just got settled, Jake groaned at your taste once again. Your blood tasted even more saccharine when it was engulfed by your orgasm.

You crashed. Over and over again. His length relentless as it rammed inside of you, fucking into all of your sweet spots that made your body jerk under Jake. “That’s it, isn’t it angel?” He breathed heavily when you squealed right as his hips pressed to you in a certain angle— “that’s your sweet, baby spot. Isn’t it? I’m going to worship it.” And he did.

His tip nursed from it. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. The knot in your abdomen no longer formed— you were stuck in a constant state of falling apart while your womb milked his cock even more.

It felt like your body had a mind of its own. So needy, so desperate that no matter how much your mind practically shut down it didn’t care. It was addicted, attached, dependent.

And Jake loved it. He loved the way your pussy was wrapped around him. Tightly, possessively. Unwilling to let go whenever he pulled back— you were claiming him back. Your body was dragging its marks on him, etching its way into his very own skin with the way his cock was tight with desire. The need to unleash and finally paint your insides with him.

So he kept going, because he couldn’t think. He couldn’t process anything. He only felt the pulses, felt the tugging, felt the constant edging of something ready to release, prepared to snap.

“I’m gonna fill you up so well, sweetheart.” The snake hissed, his hand now moving to cradle your lower belly. Where he was going to make you swell with him. His tail coiled behind him, body building in anticipation while his fangs teased your open wound. Where he could still taste you on his tongue.

“Stuff you so full you’ll be leaking of me for weeks. You’ll feel me every time you move.” You shivered at his words. Not because you were scared— but because of how you felt a drop. The lowering of your cervix as it opened more, like a second starved mouth, like it wanted to be stuffed. It wanted to be filled with your mate’s seed.

And when your muscles fluttered around his cock’s head he cooed. “Oh angel.. your pretty womb is just as needy for me as I am for her.” His hand now pressed harder and he felt your uterus flutter back at his touch. “I’ll soothe her.. I’ll satisfy her. Always.”

You couldn’t help the way your body arched further into the bed— hips shifting to allow him to go even deeper while your face was buried into the pillow now. You were still inviting him in even when he was drowning in you.

“P-please.. don’t let me be empty.” And that sentence alone broke Jake.

Then you heard the aftermath— it wasn’t a moan, it wasn’t a gasp, it wasn’t something human.

It was a vibration. One that started from the tip of his tail to the top of his head— a click and then a rattle. A heavy, snapping noise that came deep from within his guts. He was released.

“You want to be filled up with me?” The voice that spoke from behind you wasn’t Jake. The moment you froze in shock— walls clenching in surprise when you turned around and saw him different.

His pupils were in their thinnest form, emerald irises glowing brightly in the dim nest. Fangs fully dropped and dripping with venom that fell atop your lower back, right before melting and being drunk by your skin. His scales were fluttering, a dusty green covering the tips of the ones that emerged around his shoulders and neck, down to his forearms.

He looked wickedly frightening. He looked monstrous.

And somehow that made you want him even more.

“I’ll break you.” His tone was a fusion between a hiss and a deep, heavy rumbling that came from the depths of his chest. “I’ll ruin you completely. I will crawl inside of you and alter you. Just like I did with my venom, just like how you belong to me now.” His words, his mouth dripped with venom.

It scared you. Fuck, it terrified you. Yet you still couldn’t find it in yourself to move away, to escape from the beast behind you. The one that was buried so deep inside of you while you tightened around him, pouring at every word he growled at you.

You couldn’t help the way you pushed yourself back under him— the way you pushed your pelvis back against his, and he laughed.

A guttural, dangerous laughter that made more poison spill out from his mouth. “You want me to claim you just as bad as I do.. you want me to take your soul.” And you nodded.

You agreed because you couldn’t function anymore. You couldn’t imagine, couldn’t think about any possibility or life that doesn’t revolve around your serpent. You couldn’t do it, your mind refused to conjure up any image of you that didn’t have scales. That didn’t have venom marks. That didn’t have chilling split pupils.

Because your own body depended on him now. It responded to him, it recognised him, it knew him. You were marked, you were owned.

You had already given him your heart and body, it was only a matter of time before he sunk his fangs around your soul as well.

And you would allow it, because you knew you were safe. You knew that your mate would make the sky fall above the grass to keep you warm and protected between his arms.

Even if he had you away from the world, even if his voice became the only one that you knew, his eyes the only ones you saw and his body the only one you felt, you would never pick another over him.

You could never not choose him. You could never live without your mate.

And Jake claimed everything. His thrusts turned animalistic. Like he was ravaging your guts, scarring your insides to only accept him. His claws sunk back into your hips, deep and unforgiving. Any time your figure jerked forward— moved the slightest bit from under him— he would drag you back.

Because under him is where you belonged now. “Don’t try to run from me, pretty.” His tail, still coated with your wetness brushed your calf. “You and I both know you can’t go anywhere.”

The scales circled you, they engulfed you in coils. From around your hips, between your legs, up your waist and finally resting around your neck— right before he squeezed.

“Jake!” You cried, heart ramming into your ribs when you felt your lungs burn with need of air. The serpent kept his coils unmoving, applying the slightest pressure. “Shh, love. You’re safe, I’ll never hurt you.” Your tired hands desperately held onto the cooling scales, where you could sense each breath he took.

With his cock still nestled so deep inside of your weeping womb, he turned your face around with his clawed hand. “If you want air, you can breathe me in.” And before you could utter another word— he shoved his tongue into your parted lips.

Both of you groaned at the familiar taste, the familiar feeling and stretch of his forked split ends that instantly latched onto the back of your throat. He thrusted inside of you again, cock tightening in a way that you felt it from the heavy release he kept pushing back.

Jake hummed when you moaned around his tongue, your eyes closing in euphoria at his venom streaming down your throat while his length split you open. You felt more aches of pleasure branching into your body, endless climaxes and orgasms all knotting together as your mind floated.

“There you go.. keep floating for me, baby. Stay under my venom.” And you did, you took everything he gave you. The warm, filling poison and the hot ropes of precum that he buried inside of you. “Doing so well for me.. you deserve to be filled so good.” He muttered around your mouth before suckling on your muscle like a baby.

The serpent retracted his tongue, he babbled as he felt the heat building up in his cool blooded body, his legs twitching, tail fluttering around you the closer he inched towards his climax before it broke— and it shattered him entirely.

He snarled so loudly, the noise shaking out of his ribs when his limbs tensed, scales vibrating as he came inside of you.

But he didn’t cum like you normally expected, it wasn’t a few ropes of his warm seed— it was a flood.

A blazing hot, endless liquid that bursted inside of you. Making you cry at the feeling of the stream, of the overflow. He kept hissing in pleasure, wrapped up in a storm of mouth watering thrill that coursed through him, intensifying when your womb constricted— like it was drinking him up, filling your uterus with all he gave.

You were sobbing against the pillow now, covered in a sticky pool of wetness, of arousal and his flooding that didn’t decrease— and then you felt a poke. “There it is..” it was a swell.

A consistent rising, a bump that formed right around his base that was being pushed inside of you now.

Inside of your gushing entrance that clenched in surprise— in shock when you screamed at the ceaseless stretch. The fresh burn, the boiling warmth of his knot as it sunk into you. All the while Jake kept kissing you through it, shushing you and mumbling words into your ear.

“You can take it.. you’re almost there.” His voice was tender now, after his release the viper somewhat softened. You shook under him as your cunt drooled around the new intrusion, much similar to the saliva that dripped out of your mouth.

And then a final pop! That signalled him fully sheathing himself in. Locking him to you with his seed almost sloshing inside of your swollen stomach. The skin on your belly tight and stretched just the slightest bit at the flood.

Jake was in awe.

His clawed hands that were covered in your drool and your indents hovered around your belly, you were so full of him.. so stuffed just from carrying his seed. “You look divine, love.” He kissed right into the wound he had his fangs in just a few minutes ago.

You shuddered at his featherlight touch. A whirling contrast from his predatory hold. Yet you still melted under his fingertips, still floating and relaxed for him.

“Looking so pretty.. just from my seed alone.” His palm pressed against the swell, “wonder how you’ll look like when you carry my clutch.” At those words, you whimpered—

“I want it..” the serpent stiffened. “I want to carry your clutch, Jake.” Jake’s expression changed.

It became unreadable, you were too embarrassed to look at him, your face still covered by the pillowcase, still sensitive. “Baby.. do you realise what you’re asking for?” And before you could even answer, he felt a throb.

Much similar to the one before he bred you, much similar to the one he already memorised— the one of your womb.

Calling for him once again, even when he had just flooded her. She was still greedy. Still wanted more.

Jake smiled.

“Is that so..” he purred, knot swelling down, the bulge slowly slipping out of you. Allowing his gaze to take in the sight of your gaping pussy— still tightening around nothing, still pulsing, still hungry even when she was dripping in him.

You whined at the emptiness, the coldness that wrapped around your womb now that Jake’s cock wasn’t cradling it— the neediness from your body made the serpent sigh in love. “Still want me so bad.. still wanting my clutch.” His hands trailed down your sides that twitched beautifully under his touch.

He then carefully moved you, laying you gently on your back. His tail unfurled from around you slightly, it still hovered next to your hips. He distanced himself just enough to let you breathe.

“I’ll give you my clutch.” Jake whispered right as he looked into your eyes. Half lidded and sparkling with unshed tears that prickled at his heart. “I’ll give you everything that I have.” He leaned down to press the lightest kiss on your lips. Mouths barely touching when his plump lips brushed your swollen ones.

His claws had fully vanished, hands carefully steadying your thighs to wrap around him once more as he slid in between your legs, this time his cock appeared thicker— erect and leaking but swollen. Heavy, loaded.

The sight alone made you salivate. “You’re so.. full,”

“I’ll let it out. I will let it out inside of you.. I’ll make it easy for you.. I’ll make it feel good.” The serpent hissed into your lips, breath hot and heavy as the steam in the nest practically bubbled. The windows were foggy, the room thick and layered with his scent, his pheromones and your arousal.

And then he sank into you once more— this time easier, this time sliding between your slippery walls that gushed around him in welcome. Jake shivered above you, mouth agape while you moaned right into his lips.

The sounds that formed from his cock nudging inside of you were filthy. So nasty, so wet it made your whole body burn. Your hands finally finding the strength to wrap around his wrists on either side of your head just to stabilise yourself.

“She’s so greedy.. she’s sucking me in so well, baby. You’re so needy for me.” Jake whined as his hips worked restlessly, chasing his high when his swollen cock— filled with his clutch caressed your inside, their new home. “I’m gonna give you my babies.. you’ll carry and protect them. You’ll be such a great mama to our babies.” He muttered before dipping his head into the curve of your neck, right where your blood still drizzled in thick droplets.

Your womb quivered with each thrust, every stroke pulling a breath out of your lungs before he sank in so deep his head latched onto your cervix again. “There we go..” Jake’s words were slurred, you were limp above the nest. Slumped under him while he almost evaporated. So intoxicated on the feeling of your walls milking him, so obsessed with how warm your body felt because of him.

And then Jake felt the first drop.. the first swell that indicated his egg lowering. He pressed his hips flush against yours, the head of his cock fully nursing onto your cervix when you felt the shift— the weight, the round sphere that was moving to be inside of you.

“Just like that.. take it, love. Take it and keep it safe.” It finally sunk inside of you, round and weighted. The sensation so new, so intimate as it slipped past him— right into the opening of your cervix that sucked the egg in. Shielding and protecting it in your womb, making you sigh in relief at the sheer relief of carrying his weight— of carrying him.

But then there was another swell.. another drop. “I-is that another—?” “Yes— fuck i have more to give, I always have more to give when it comes to you.” His pelvis jerked into yours, saliva dripping out of his mouth like water as his slit pupils rolled into the back of his head, the feeling burned him from the inside out, blazed his abdomen in ecstatic fire. “Take it, baby. Take all of them from me.”

This time you cried when it pressed into your cervix, the muscles fluttering softly before sucking the egg right next to the other one. The weight increasing in your womb made your legs shake, another release building up even when your body felt so sore. Your pussy still twitching with Jake deep inside of you.

“Last one, little nest. You can take it, I know you can.” The serpent mouthed at your skin, tongue flicking to lick along your cheek, to catch the slipping tears that fell when your stomach felt so full. So heavy and tight already but he was still giving you more.

His palm pressed against the swell, the forming bump of his clutch being protected by you. Being nourished and nurtured inside of you. His instincts flared, the final egg slipping slowly, the heaviest and largest of the bunch— “f-fuck.. we’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re almost full of me.” Jake sobbed into your neck.

His serpent body overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy, by the intensity of the love he held for you. The weight of acceptance, of you wanting him back. All crashing down on him as he stuffed you with his final egg, the bulge of it making you both gasp as the stretch ripped a release from you, so deep, so carnal.

“That’s it baby.. you did it. You’re carrying my soul now.” He spoke tearfully into your mouth, still so close to you. Still buried deep inside of you, his tip remained nuzzled against your cervix that fully closed now. Fulfilled and satisfied.

The serpent’s palm rested against your stomach, it felt warm. Soft with you now holding him, nestling his babies inside the most precious part of you. “You look so beautiful.. all mine. Just mine, so full of me.” Jake worshipped your body.

Tail caressing the underside of your belly while the snake moved towards you, laying next to your body before cradling you against him. All his instincts telling him to protect. To shield.

You hummed in content. So spent, so tired and so bred. Your heart’s pace finally calming down when you cuddled closer to Jake’s warmth. The serpent’s tongue flicked out to touch your neck, your shoulders, just to scent you again. To surround you with him completely while you carry his clutch.

“Sleep now my little nest. I’ll protect you and our babies.” His whisper fluttered with love, your eyes already closing the second he began to purr for you. Soft vibrations calming your nerves while his scales coiled around you protectively, his palm resting above your lower stomach.

“All mine.” The serpent hissed quietly before closing his eyes.

a,n. holy fucking shit it’s finally done. thanks for reading this fever dream 🫶🏼 & feedback is greatly appreciated ! ♡

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iamasaddie · 2 months ago

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AN HONEST MISTAKE

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: swiping left and right on tinder, you think you match with Joel Miller, a handsome single dad in his late 30s. Feeling enamored and horny you decide to meet in person, only to be met with an almost completely different person. warnings: darkfic, dub-con eliments due to alcohol intoxication, gaslighting, very big age gap [Joel is 61], switching POVs, explicit sexual content. Some tags are not added to avoid spoilers, dm me if you need the full list. reader description: afab she/her, has hair long enough to be pulled; has boobs and ass; reader mid to late 20s-early 30s. word count: 6,2k

a/n: thank you for all of the excitement and interest you'd shown to this idea, i have been working on it for some time and i'm finally happy to show you part one. huge thanks to @arcanefox207 , Ally helped me to polish this chapter and shown me a lot of support which i truly appreciate <3 READ ON AO3

MASTERLIST | part 2

Dating wasn’t fun. It always felt like an inescapable chore for you, and you tried to avoid it at all costs. Hiding your face in your morning cup of tea when attacked by your mom’s questions, her voice distorted by poor video connection. Joking only to avoid the topic of boyfriends and girlfriends when your friend kept nagging you about it. Losing yourself in an unsatisfactory myriad of hands that belonged to faceless people when the nights got too cold for empty sheets.

You looked at your table, a small hand-made sign read “do better” in your own handwriting. And that was exactly what you were going to do. You were going to kill not two, but three birds with one stone, and that stone was going to be going on a date. A real, proper date, with excruciatingly predictable questions and awkward first touches. And you were going to have fun.

On the fourth hour of swiping Tinder, you were a breath away from ghosting everyone you knew and hiding in the Peruvian Amazonia for the rest of your life. The few conversations that you managed to have quickly died out when the person you talked to learned what you were there for. A month ago you’d find a pretty face and invite them over to smoke and have some fun, but that wasn’t a great start for an actual relationship. No, your fuckgirl days were over, so you went back to swiping.

And that was when you saw him.

Joel M., 39 Southern gentleman with a beautiful daughter. Work in construction, so I can build you a house. I am looking for a real connection, please, respect that.

God, he was handsome. Your mouth started salivating as you swiped through his pictures. He was broad, tall and had a tool in his hand. Not the one you immediately started wondering about, but it looked like at least he didn’t lie in his description. Feeling like a complete creep, you screenshotted his profile. If you weren’t a match, at least you’d have someone pretty to think about before going to bed tonight.

Gently, as if afraid, you swiped right. Your screen lit up, and so did your face, you gave a wide grin to your phone. “It’s a match!”

He was too good to be true. A gentleman, he didn’t lie there. Joel gave you the exact amount of attention to make you run towards your phone whenever it rang. It was definitely nothing like you expected. He was attentive, remembering what you said and when, never shied away from your questions, and on top of that he was devastatingly hot.

You heard a blip of a new message and unlocked your phone, a smile already plastered on your face like a Pavlovian reaction.

[Joel M.]: I was thinking, we seem to have a nice connection here, don’t we? [You]: I think so, too. A little unbelievable, but I am feeling hopeful. [Joel M.]: Unbelievable how?[You]: Unbelievable that no one snatched you up earlier. From where I am sitting, you look like a full package. [Joel M.]: Well, you’re sitting awfully far away, so I see how it looks like that. Why don’t we meet in person and find out if you still think the same, darlin? [You]: Joel, are you inviting me on a date? [Joel M.]: Only if you’re accepting. How about a dinner at my place? I am a pretty decent cook.

Your hand hovered above the screen. It wasn’t smart, going to a man’s place for your first date. He could be a creep, he could be a murderer… But then again, you could never brag about your self preservation instincts, sometimes you just thought with a little kitty purring between your legs.

You tapped on his profile again, looking at the zoomed in picture of his face. His brown eyes looked sad, but kind. A half-smile tugged on his soft-looking lips. Just a few sprinkles of salt and pepper in his hair. Even if he turned out to be a creep, you’d never had such a handsome lay before, and you were planning to check all of his tools as soon as you could, you thought to yourself before typing your reply.

[You]: I’d love that. Send me the address?

You weren’t worried, not really. You never struggled with too low of self-esteem. You knew your strong suits, and you wore them like armor. The upcoming date sent a pleasant shiver down your back, anticipation made you giggle into the void of your lonely apartment. The closer the day came, the giddier you became.

So on the fateful night you had enough confidence to pick out the dress that was a bit uncomfortable but looked gorgeous on your body. You smacked some lipstick that complemented the shade of your skin, grabbed a small purse and a bottle of wine and winked at your reflection in the mirror. You looked good, you felt even better.

August kept tricking you with its weather, the days still suffocated you with heat while the nights were unpleasantly chilly. You hugged your naked shoulders and rubbed your skin in an attempt to warm up as you waited for your Uber to arrive.

You got inside the white Honda Civic, the smell of cigarettes unpleasantly soaked into the seats so you opened up the window praying that it wouldn’t stink up your dress. The driver acknowledged you with a small grunt and a nod, you did the same, not willing to start a conversation. The estimated forty minutes dragged out and became an hour in the man’s GPS, of course you got stuck in traffic it was just your luck. And on your way to a literal dream man, no less.

Your kitten heel kept tapping on the car floor, the annoyed-looking driver gave you a stern look in the rear view mirror that you completely ignored. You needed to warn Joel that you were going to be late, and it made you want to grind your teeth. You hated being late, be that a party, a dentist appointment or a walk in the park with a friend. It made you feel guilty, leaving your palms sticky with cold sweat. You clearly weren’t going to make a good first impression, and with the way you chewed your lip bloody, you might not even get a kiss. You looked at the picture of him you shamelessly saved to your camera roll. Out of the two of you, you were definitely winning the creep competition, while he was just a dream come true.

You zoomed in on his face, your thumb caressed the pixels of his skin. There were smile lines around his lips, and you wondered what made him laugh so hard throughout his life that the remnants of the gesture permanently cut themself into his skin. Joel’s eyes were gleaming with youthful mischief, something you’d thought a person loses after having a child, but he clearly proved you wrong. Sun made his brown look like amber, adding to the overall handsomeness of the man. You imagined yourself next to him – yes, it was way too early, but you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering – he’d be taller, bigger than you, his strong hand on your lower back as you walk through the city. The eyes of men and women hungry to have what’s yours, but he’d only look at you. Yes, he was a bit older, but still young enough to have you on his arm without dealing with accusatory stares and venomous whispers behind your back.

A loud honking from the car behind you made you jump in your seat. The line of cars finally started moving and it brought a sense of relief to you. You had 20 more minutes, maybe you were still going to make it.

The sound of your heels kissing the pavement echoed like gunfire through the neighborhood. When your taxi left you at the needed address, you looked around. It wasn’t too late, the small houses still looked alive with yellow lights and muffled voices. You took a deep breath, straightened your back and looked in front of yourself, examining the location.

From the outside, Joel’s house looked nice. Nothing too fancy, the white paint a bit chapped, but the porch looked recently freshened up. A sturdy looking rocking chair covered with a blanket and a pillow gave the place a cozy feeling. His lawn was perfectly trimmed, and you imagined watching him mow it from that same porch with an iced tea in your hand. He’d be sweaty and shirtless, you’d drag him inside to fuck before he finished even a third of the territory. You clenched your thighs, a small pool of wetness gathering in your thongs. You better keep that thought away or you’d jump the poor man’s bones before he had the chance to say hello.

You checked your phone, 8:27 PM. Not too late, even acceptable in some countries, you tried to cheer yourself on. You hoped he wasn’t as insane about being late as you were or here went your first date in years. Gently, you tapped on the wooden door, the sound of someone approaching from the other side made you squeeze the bottle neck harder.

When the door flew open, you stretched out the hand holding the wine and fired out an apology in the most comical way you could, your eyes tightly shut.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, the traffic was horrendous. I promise I am usually never late, ever.” When no reply followed, you opened your eyes, a smile still tugging on your lips as you took in the man in front of you. It was both Joel and not. With your hand still outstretched, your mouth dropped with a hundred different questions, but you only managed to ask one. “Joel?”

“Hello, darlin’.”

“Is this some kind of a joke? Are you his dad or something?”

The man in front of you was not in his late thirties, hell, he wasn’t even in his late forties! The Joel that was staring at you looked pretty old, mid-fifties at least, you thought to yourself. His hair was mostly salt, no pepper in sight. It was inches longer than in the picture, soft-looking, it curled at the bottom. He was as tall and broad as you imagined, and it did give a little pang to your core that you quickly shut off. His face was ridden in wrinkles, prominent crows feet near his eyes that were still sad, still brown. You had half a thought to turn around and order yourself an Uber home, but the bewildered look on his face made you stop where you were.

“Darlin’, I know what’s going through your head right now, because I promise I didn’t expect you to be this young either! It must’ve been Sarah, my baby girl. She set up this thing, said she was tired of seeing her old man sad an’ miserable. Guess she didn’t think I was mighty attractive anymore.” He says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “She just straight up told me today that a nice woman would come over for a dinner, said she’d be here too, and if I loved her I had better prepared my nicest shirt an’ all. Christ, what was that girl thinking?”

You caught yourself feeling bad for the man, your heart clenching. He was still definitely handsome. His stomach was slightly more prominent and his was shirt hugging him tightly in the middle. His hand that tucked a little white strand of hair behind his ear matched his face in little sun spots, skin that had been kissed by the burning star for longer than you’d been alive. But he still got it, in a silver fox kind of way. Poor man, put into such an embarrassing situation by his own daughter. Being willingly childfree had never looked more appealing to you.

“You came all the way here just to be disappointed, I can’t tell you how-“

“I’m not disappointed,” you interrupted him quickly and stepped forward, an unknown force drove your hand to squeeze his forearm in a reassuring gesture. His eyes dropped when your manicured nails dug into his ironed flannel. “Just surprised, but that’s not a bad thing. We both unknowingly catfished each other.”

“Catfish? Ain’t that a type of fish?”

“No,” you laughed lightheartedly, the man was adorable. The cold breeze picked up, and you were reminded that you were still on the porch, if any neighbors were out they were definitely getting a fresh batch of gossip to discuss before sleep. “It’s when you… You know what, no matter, it’s not important.”

Joel looked hesitant, his jaw ticked and you noticed him look you up and down before swallowing hard. Was he blushing?

“I want to make it up to you before you go. I made us a nice dinner when I thought you were umm… age appropriate,” Joel tightened his lips and gave you an apologetic smile. “It ain’t catfish, just a steak, but I swear on my mama, it’s good.”

Before you could respond, your stomach growled making the decision for you. Your hand jumped to it, fisting the material of your dress as if trying to silence the embarrassing sound.

“Well, I don’t see any harm in that,” you smiled, accepting Joel’s invitation. The man looked harmless and you didn’t want to leave him sad and miserable, it seemed like he felt guilty enough. “It was quite a long drive.” Maybe it all could become a funny story you both would tell your friends. Separately.

He stepped aside and you waltzed inside his house. It was big enough to still be cozy without making you feel trapped. The warm light made everything look safe and homey, hardwood floor creaked gently under your footsteps. The door lock clicked behind you and you turned around.

Joel was looking at you, a more confident smile now stretching his lips. The soft lighting took a few years off his face, and once again you noted that the man aged like a fine wine. That reminded you of the bottle you were still tightly gripping in your hand, and you stretched it out to Joel for the second time that night. He accepted with a muttered ‘thank you’.

“Feel at home, sweetheart, I’ll just grab something real quick.” Joel pointed towards his kitchen, the space was open, luring you in with a mouth-watering smell.

You felt awkward walking around a stranger’s house, but followed his instructions.

You didn’t see the way his eyes lingered on the exposed skin of the back of your thighs, his tongue flicking over his lower lip in anticipation.

He disappeared further into the hallway, and you made your way towards the dining table.

Alone, you took the opportunity to study the place you were allowed in. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very unique, or maybe you were just a shitty detective. Joel’s kitchen that spilled out into a dining room was disappointingly ordinary. Walls painted a soft yellow; polished doors of wooden cupboards and kitchen cabinets that looked old but taken care of; a four-person dining table that was now set with a few plates, simple utensils, napkins and wine glasses. You narrowed your eyes trying to see the pictures that were stuck to the fridge with small butterfly magnets. Your long ride and empty stomach must’ve taken a toll on your eyesight so you could barely make out Joel in those. There was a picture of him with another man, and… You leaned over the table as if trying to get closer, to see better.

“You know, you can just come closer to the fridge.” Joel’s chuckle made you jump in your seat.

“Sorry, I was just,” the right explanation failed you, and you surrendered. “I was just being nosy.”

“Didn’t catch you going through my drawers, so no harm. Can’t really snoop if it’s out there to see, right?” Joel set the opened bottle of the wine you’d brought on the table and waved a bottle opener in his right hand. “Haven’t had wine in some time so had to go look for this guy,” he explained.

“Whatever you made, it smells delicious,” you smiled at him. The sucking feeling in your stomach became uncomfortable, and you cursed at yourself internally for skipping lunch.

“Well then, let’s get some of it in you, shall we?”

Joel seemed way more relaxed, maybe your agreement to spend time with him made him feel less guilty for his daughter’s actions; or maybe it was the confidence of being a host. Either way, it looked good on him.

You didn’t stop your eye from wandering over his frame while he looked away, putting food on your plates. His dark green shirt was snug around his broad shoulders, the soft-looking material translated the feeling of warmth and comfort you lacked in your dress. He had blue jeans on, and you felt your cheeks heat up when you noticed a firm ass hidden behind the rough fabric. Your hand left the table, and you tugged at your bottom lip absent-mindlessly. What was twenty more years? He turned around and since your eyes hadn't moved, you were now shamelessly staring at his crotch. The jeans did not hide much.

You snapped your face up immediately at Joel’s quiet cough. There was a barely hidden smirk on his face, so you decided that no harm was done. So what if you gave the man a quiet compliment? You’d been doing that for the last two weeks, even though apparently his daughter was the one responding to them. You could spare some flirting for the poor guy, he looked like he enjoyed a bit of your harmless attention.

He didn’t lie, he was a decent cook. The meat melted on your tongue and the wine you brought complimented it nicely. You didn’t notice the way your glass was always full, Joel’s stories from the past kept you too entranced.

Heat was creeping up your chest, settling in your cheeks and you moved the wine glass away. You could tolerate a full bottle without being visibly affected, not your proudest trick but it was what it was. Yet, now you felt like you’d emptied at least a couple of bottles on an empty stomach, even though the bottle on the table proved otherwise. You felt dizzy, but not in a bad way, just more relaxed than you were planning to be. Joel looked more handsome every minute, his syrupy thick voice lulled you into a trance-like headspace.

“Can’t lie, you look mighty pretty, darlin’. Had I been thirty years younger it’d be hard to keep my hands to myself.”

Wine dimmed your instincts, so you just giggled. Joel’s eyes darkened as he tripped his gaze from your face to your bust, your breasts straining against the silk fabric of your dress. You noticed him looking and cleared your throat, tits jiggling slightly.

“Forgive an old man, sweetheart?” There was nothing sorry about his tone, but it slipped your mind completely, your guard almost all the way down. “As I said, haven't had a pretty thing like you here in ages.”

You tried to study his face, your brain foggy as you struggled to figure him out. “You compliment like a man deep in the dating pool,” you smirked, “makes it hard to believe it’s all an accident. Maybe you actually lured me in here

intentionally?” You raised your eyebrows, but couldn’t handle your own silly accusation, breaking down in giggles.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, this old dog is all bark no bite.” His smile looked sincere, kind laughter leaving his wet lips and he gave you a wink.

“You’re not that old,” your voice dragged the words out like you wanted to convince yourself more than him. You felt hot all over and you weren’t sure if it was the result of the wine you drank.

“You’re too kind, sweetheart, no need to spare my feelings. My prime is long behind the horizon.”

“No, you’re actually very handsome,” you didn’t lie, anyone with a good working set of eyes would see his attractiveness, and you had two weeks to cement it in your brain. “You have a very nice smile, and your hands,” your eyes dropped on the table where a giant fist was curled around his fork. “A lot of women appreciate a good set of hands.”

“Learned to work with them pretty well, too.” Joel nodded and smirked. “Leaking faucets, clogged drainage. Can fix it all.”

In your mind that phrase sounded naughtier than you were sure the man intended it to, and you reprimanded yourself, feeling a different kind of heat rise from your belly. With one swift movement you’ve emptied what was left in your glass of wine, forgetting about your need to somehow get home after dinner. Joel only poured some more in your glass, smiling softly.

He learned the dance moves long ago. Pretty birds like you were comfortably predictable, and even though you oozed a different kind of odor, he knew exactly what to say. He watched you sip your wine with ease, his own glass barely touched on the table.

When the last piece of salad was cleaned off your plate, you felt a pleasant fullness in your belly. Your head was heavy in a sleepy kind of way, and you looked around, trying to find something to hold your attention on. Your eyes skimmed the living room, from where you were sitting you could see an old couch, in some spots it was now more beige than brown, its big cushions looked soft and the blue quilt draped over the back of it was calling your name.

There was a guitar leaning against one of the armrests and you moved your eyes back at Joel who was silently studying you.

“You play that?” You blindly pointed your thumb towards the strategically placed instrument and Joel curtly nodded.

“I pluck the strings, sometimes something bearable comes out.” He joked, the apples of his cheeks saturated with color and you reached your hand to take his

and gently squeezed it. Joel’s skin turned out to be warm and dry, the sensation of giving him such an innocent touch tingled on your fingertips.

“I noticed you tend to undersell yourself. Would you play something for me?” You didn’t want to leave yet, and your empty plate didn’t really leave you a reason to stay. You tilted your head to the right and gave Joel a sweet smile, hoping he’d succumb to your charm. He didn’t wait long before returning the soft gesture. Slowly, he got off his seat. His figure loomed above you for a quiet moment before he outstretched his palm.

“I’d never be able to refuse you,” he admitted. Your hand drowned in his and he tugged you up. You almost crushed into his broad chest, but to your own dismay he took a step back. Your insides throbbed, the smell of his cologne mixed with his own odor awoke every single receptor on your skin.

“Do you like old stuff?”

“I’m still here,” you quipped and shrugged your shoulders innocently. Joel stopped, making sure you saw him roll his eyes in fake annoyance. He couldn’t contain the breathy laugh, though, so you knew he got your joke.

You moved towards the couch, while Joel walked a step behind you, enjoying the view of your ass in a skin tight dress. The outline of your thongs was visible to him, and he smiled to himself, maybe you weren’t as innocent as you pretended to be. Joel bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from any comments.

His hand hugged the neck of the guitar confidently, while you made yourself comfortable on the couch.

“I think I know just the thing.”

Your eyes never left his fingers as he started to hum an unfamiliar melody.

His voice lulled you in, deep vibrations as he plucked the strings reverberated in your chest. You felt so warm inside, the heat that was pooling in the depth of your belly rose and touched your chest, neck, the tips of your fingers. The dress clung to your skin unpleasantly and for a moment you wished you could take it off. Was it so wrong?

Your eyes traced Joel’s face, the sharp angle of his nose, the tip of it twitching as he sang gently. His lips caressed the words with a tenderness of a lover and you wondered when was the last time they did the same to a woman. Your thighs tightened as your body already knew something your mind only danced around. You shifted in your seat, moving closer to Joel, letting your knees touch.His eyes found yours, a question burning in his browns. You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a small smile, he smiled back. The melody continued, his warm timbre embracing the words.

Maybe tomorrow, honey, Some place down the line, I’ll wake up older So much older, mama, I’ll wake up older, and I’ll just stop all my trying

Your fingers drew patterns on your dress, nails picking at the seam with nervousness. The fire in the center of you gave you confidence to follow through, and your hand ended up on Joel’s knee, slowly moving up until your pinky touched the wood of his guitar. The melody didn’t falter, but his voice did.

“Whatcha doin’, sweetheart?”

“It is a date, isn’t it?” The shreds of your confidence only allowed you to squeeze his thigh with a hint, yet your eyes looked anywhere but his face.

“You shouldn’t do something like that to an old man like me, will break my heart when you leave,” he sounded so painfully sad, it made your heart ache as bad as your pussy. You looked him in the eye then, god, he was so handsome.

“What if I don’t leave?” You challenged him like a mouse challenging a lion. Joel shook his head, his hand gripping the guitar’s neck viciously.

“Stop playing with me, darlin’.”

“What if I’m not playing?”

You expected another sad plea, another crack in his voice. But instead, he put his guitar to the side and spread his legs wider than before. “Then prove it.” He husked out. “Prove that you know what you’re doing.”

There was no mistake in what he meant. His voice added a new depth into it, eyes glowed with something dark. Passion, you thought. Need. The one that was pushing you to your knees at that same moment. The one that numbed your skin when your bones hit the hardwood floor between his spread thighs. The one that guided your hands to his zipper before you could even steal a kiss off his tantalizing lips.

He was hot underneath his clothes, his skin was burning like he had a fever and you were almost too impatient to be gentle. Joel lifted his hips just enough to help you tug his jeans down, his grey cotton boxers followed. He watched you intently, and you watched his half-hard cock lay heavily on his full balls. They were hanging low, their size intimidating. But no more intimidating than the main course.

You weren’t offended that he wasn’t fully hard yet, still, Joel took you by the chin and made you look at him. “Sorry, darlin’, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in a long time, but at my age, it’s just not enough anymore.”

You nodded, your mouth flooding with saliva at the thought of him growing under your tongue. He was thick, veiny, more veiny than the dicks you’d seen

before so you thought it was an age thing, however the vines surrounding his shaft only made you whimper harder, thighs squelching with your arousal.

You leaned forward, inhaling full lungs of him. It was heady, strong, and made you dizzier than all the wine you drank. You reached your hand out with the intent of touching his cock, but Joel stopped you.

“Touch yourself.” For the first time you heard something dark in his melody. Commanding.

“What?” You were confused. Did he want you to just play with yourself? Because you were on the verge of bursting if he didn’t let you get closer to his cock.

“Put your little hand in your panties and slick it up with all the sweet juices that have been leaking out of you since the moment you saw me, darlin’.” Your mouth fell open, hand following his order under Joel’s dominant gaze. “Then you can wrap it around my dick, and prove to me that you really want this.”

It was so easy to just do what he said, without questioning the moral, the consequences. Your hand was wet with your arousal, pussy begging to keep it

there, to give some attention to your clit, but your mind was set on the man before you.

He hissed when you wrapped your slick hand around his shaft and started jerking it slowly, feeling the girth of him thrum with growing desire. You looked at his cock, entranced. His shaft was shining with your own juices, a pink head became deeper in color as more blood rushed to his cock. You swiped your thumb over it, a tiny drop of precum glistening in his slit.

“You’re doin’ such a good job, angel.” Joel’s hoarse voice was almost a whisper. You felt the steam coming from him, it made you sweat, your breath hitching. “Why don’t you put that mouth to use, hm, darlin’? You speak awful lot with it.”

It almost made you giggle, a plan forming in your head. Instead of letting his cock in the scorching wetness of your mouth, your head dropped lower. You

stuck your tongue out, lathering his heavy balls in your saliva. They were fuzzy, like a ripe peach, and you massaged them with the wet muscle.

“Fuck, ain’t nothing angelic about you, huh?” Joel’s voice was barely recognizable, hungry and low it vibrated in your pussy. You opened your mouth wider, sucking his balls in turn. “That’s right, making me feel so good, sucking on my balls like that. Come on, baby, use your tongue.”

You tried to alternate between licking and sucking on his ballsack, your spit drooling over your chin while you were panting like a rabid dog. The only thing that mocked your ladylikeness was your goddamn dress, and it was almost drenched in your own slick at this point.

“Good girl, sucking on my balls like it’s what you came here for. Came here to make an old man cum? What a perverted little girl you are, sweetheart.” Your pussy tingled with your praise. The mouth on him made your head spin, like a newfound drug that affected only you he seeped under your skin making you pant and moan as you continued pleasuring him. Your hand jerked his thick cock in tandem with your mouth on his balls. Joel’s eyes never left you, as he continued praising you. “Mmhm, that’s good, drench ‘em, fuck you’re a dirty one.”

You felt his hand at the back of your head as it pressed you harder into him, your nose was forced into his perineum and he almost humped your face with his groin. Your tongue hung out, and he managed to slide his balls across it before it almost went too low. The tip of your tongue almost touching his puckered hole covered in more hair.

“Not today,” you heard him grumble before tugging you up. “Come on, darlin’, don’t make me waste a load.” He pushed on your cheeks with his hand, feeding you his cock in one movement. It was a lot to take, your teeth barely scraping his shaft, and you used your tongue to protect the underside. “Take it all, come on, darlin’, you’re the one who wanted it.”

Intoxication and arousal didn’t mix well, as you just moaned pathetically around him, letting him deeper in your throat. It bulged with the sheer size of his dick, you felt it, uncomfortable, but you couldn’t move, your body too heavy and tired. Instead, your hands found his wet balls, already tight and ready to blow every drop of cum he’d been saving for you. You tried to fit them in your hand, gently tugging at his sack to stimulate him further.

“Ready, sweetheart? I better not see you waste a drop.” His hips bucked, and your nose was pressed into the soft tuft of his grey pubes. Joel pressed your head into him harder as his hot load trickled down your throat. You tried to breathe through your nose, the lack of oxygen blackening your vision.

He pulled out seconds before you were ready to pass out.

“Gotta tap my leg or somethin’, sugar. I don’t need you dying with my cock still in your throat.” You chuckled, not sure why. Joel placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip, slippery with your saliva. His whisper sounded gentle, “God, you’re a mess. Beautiful.”

You didn’t trust your throat to work, so instead, you tried to get up on your trembling legs. Your pussy still screamed for release, so wet you could feel your arousal escaping your thongs and dripping down your leg. You hiked the skirt of your dress up, not an ounce of shame inside, and straddled Joel.

“Whoa, darlin’, slow down,” his hands dropped to your hips, keeping you in place. Your brows furrowed. He didn’t look like a man who’d let a lady down. “Why don’t we change our location?”

You didn’t get an opportunity to look around, your feet scrambling as he tugged you into a dark room. His pants were up, but undone, and you lost your heels somewhere along the way, your dress still hiked up like a common whore.

Everything was spinning, so when he dropped on the bed at first you thought he fell. His voice was navigating you through the darkness, but you could barely concentrate on it.

“Come here, angel, let this old man take care of your pretty pussy.” Joel smacked his lips, and guided you to climb on top of him, legs on each side of his body until your pussy hovered over his face.

“Panties,” you whimpered and heard an immediate crack of fabric ripping.

“Sorry, darlin’, can’t make you wait any longer,” his face pressed into the side of your thigh, sticky with your own juices, and you whimpered pathetically at the texture of his scruff scratching your sensitive skin. “Smell so good, fresh, like a new doll.”

You couldn’t understand what he meant, you didn’t even try to. When his lips latched onto your clit, your head tilted back and you let out a loud moan. Joel only moaned back, the sound penetrating your pussy alongside his tongue.

His hands gripped your asscheeks painfully, forcing you to grind on his face. His tongue slipped in your wet hole, and you felt yourself shaking on top of him, your legs giving out as he kept fucking you with his tongue.

Joel growled in your skin, making you crawl to your orgasm faster and faster with every swipe of his tongue.

The tip of his nose kept hitting your sensitive clit, as he pushed his tongue further and further in your fluttering hole. He kissed his way up, pinching your clit between his tightly clasped lips and sucked, punching a cry out of you with his raw vigor.

“Come on, sugar,” he commanded, “I feel her cryin’, give her what she wants.”

With doubled passion he flickered his tongue over your throbbing bud, and you felt sweat trickling down your neck and soaking into your dress as an orgasm rushed over you.

Your body felt powerless, and if not for Joel’s strong hands still holding you up, you’d have fallen back. But he kept you somewhat steady, lapping up all that your wasted body could give him until every swipe of his tongue started being painful and you had physically push his face away with trembling hands.

“Got too enthusiastic, my bad. Ain’t every day I get to drink from a fountain of youth.” Joel joked, helping you settle next to him in his bed.

Your tired body was half laying on top of him, fully drained yet still unexplainably insatiable. Forced by something deep in the pit of your belly, you dragged your nails over his soft stomach until you touched his soft cock again. Joel quickly stopped you, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand to his chest. You felt the sparse hairs on his nipple tickle your palm. His heartbeat was hard, but steady.

“Sorry, angel, ain’t that young anymore.” He said, kissing the crown of your head. His fingers found their way into your hair and he tugged at it gently. “If you want me to fuck that pretty hole of yours, you’ll just have to agree to a second date.”

Your words were slurred, eyelids too heavy to keep them open. “Maybe I will, old man.”

He chuckled, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightened as he looked in the distance. A couple of flickering street lamps visible from his window were providing minimum light in his room and a possessive smile creeped onto his lips as he listened to you snoring lightly into his chest.

You weren't the first mouse to get trapped so easily, but something told him you were special. He wasn't ready to discard you just yet.

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