#...arm yourself with that knowledge and you will be better for it.

[bvtbxtch]

Loved and Lost | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/N: I got a cute little request that ended up becoming a full ass one shot (I told you all I am a yapper!). I hope you enjoy! Like always, the title is a working title and if you can think of one that better suits this story, PLEASE let me know! I am so sleep deprived and I have no creative juices left!

Content Warnings: My blog is 18+ so MDNI! fluffy fluff! friends to strangers to lovers, pining, hurt/comfort (if you squint), a little bit of idiots in love maybe, mentions of anxiety, kissing, straddling, crying and swearing. Use of Y/N, This has NOT been proofread

W/C: ~7.3k (LMAO just when I thought I was getting better at shorter fics)

Masterlist

It had been three years since you moved out of Forest Hills Trailer Park and two years since you had hardened your heart to Eddie Munson. 

Once one of the only people who would follow Eddie around like a puppy, the two of you were inseparable. Hawkins Elementary and Secondary had never seen such a dynamic duo. Eddie, the fearless leader scrounging for any adventure he could take you on; and you, a quiet artistic daydreamer that would rather listen to Eddie read you the Hobbit, but you followed with your clammy hand in his. You would draw him new character sketches from the DnD guide he stole from a garage sale; he would always beam at you after you had finished a new doodle for him. My own custom DnD guide! The teachers would joke that they would be seeing your wedding announcement in the Hawkins Post in two decades; you would stop and chide them for such comments if you didn’t secretly wish it was true. You were only 14 when your friendship was at its prime, and you guessed you assumed that every girl with a boy best friend eventually had an innocent crush on their counterpart. 

It was the summer going into freshman year where your world felt like it had an anvil dropped on it. Eddie and you had grabbed your beat up bikes and ended up in a young Tommy Haye’s acreage - fire booming and smuggled beers warming on a rotten picnic table. You and Eddie were giddy - technically your first high school party. The night ended in you throwing up on Bobby Wilkinsons shoes, heart swollen with ache and liver refusing the excess alcohol you had drank. Eddie’s night, on the contrary, ended with him losing his virginity to Lisa Hamilton - one of the most popular girls at Hawkins Secondary - after a rather rousing game of 7 minutes in heaven. You didn’t even get a turn, leaving the circle after Eddie and Lisa had come back from behind the bushes, cheeks flushed and lips kiss-swollen. Eddie took a proud seat beside you and nudged your arm. You couldn’t be there. You trudged to the front of the house, expelled anything that would come out of your stomach and wobbled away on your bike. You let your tears drag down your cheeks as you rounded into the gravel roadway of the trailer park. You threw yourself on your bed, wishing that this was all a bad dream you could wake up from. 

Eddie had tried to call you for days after, but you left him unanswered; Begging your parents to tell Eddie you were sick or busy, even when he came knocking on your front door. 

Everything fell apart two days later. Your mother told you that your summer would consist of chores at your grandmas in Arkansas and when you came back, the familiarity of the trailer park was replaced with a small house on the outskirts of town.

Eddie tried calling you, to the lack of your knowledge, almost every day. Your parents relayed that you weren’t home, but even when your mom gave Eddie your grandma’s number, you still heard radio silence from your supposed best friend. He saw the for sale sign in front of your lot and took the hint that you didn’t want to see him again. You often replay that summer in your head and wish how different things could have been. You wished you wouldn’t have been so stubborn, you wished your parents told you he called, you wished that you called him from away - you knew his number almost by heart. You wished that when you came back you knocked on his door and told him how you felt; the summer away only strengthened the love you had for him. You realized too late that you would rather have Eddie as a friend than not in your life at all. You biked to Hawkins High, a much longer (and lonelier)  trek than from the trailer park. You watched Eddie fall to the bottom of the social hierarchy throughout freshman year while you found your comfortable group of friends in the art club.

But it was too little too late, three years had gone by and you had barely spoken a single word to the metalhead. 

You admired him from afar, appreciating how the past few years had shown on him. His jaw had sharpened as he lost his childlike cheeks. His Adam's apple bobbed and you could see some stubble lining his chin every once in a while. The Eddie that used to be your friend had shoulder length, frizzy curls; but as his hair grew, his curls tamed and framed his angular face beautifully. The cupid’s bow that shaped his adolescent lips filled out with his face and although he was still lanky, a layer of muscle had formed around his limbs. The doodles that he drew on his skin during grade 7 math had become permanent fixtures, but the old casio watch that he had gotten when he turned 12 remained on his left wrist. It was an odd feeling of melancholy, still feeling like you knew so many things about the stranger that passed you in the hallway.

Him and Lisa didn’t last, especially after Eddie’s descent into social suicide. They paraded with hands interlocked until Lisa made the cheer team and Eddie joined Hellfire. You watched Eddie’s bright eyes dulled and you watched the toll of social ostracization weigh Eddie down. You hadn’t seen him with another girl since. It had been two and a half years and part of you hoped Eddie hadn’t been with another girl, not like your opinion mattered.

You sat yourself at a corner table in the library and pulled out your walkman. You placed your headphones over your ears as you grabbed your notebook and pencil. The sounds of your newest mixtape drowned out the buzz of the fluorescent lights and chatting students. You absorbed your whole mind into your work - you had begun a new commission that you received at the Hawkins Farmers Market last weekend. It was your own way of making money and staying independent in a world that felt like it was starting to strangle you more and more. You had been saving up to buy an old van and go across the country - or even just away from here - and making your art. You slipped the crinkled photo of the border collie you were commissioned to draw and smiled back at the bright eyes in the photo.

You didn’t hear anyone approaching at first, the loud synth of the Eurythmics drowned any noise. It was just you and the pup you were tasked to draw. It wasn’t until you felt a knock on the side of the table that you jolted your headphones off your ears. Your eyes stayed wide in bewildered surprise of who stood over you. You cleared your throat hastily and squeaked out a small apology. A lopsided (albeit, nervous) smile glinted back at you, a sight that you truly thought you would never be on the receiving end of.

“That looks amazing,” the baritone voice quipped. You could barely will your voice to work.

“Thanks, but I just started… I have lots of work to do on it.” You couldn’t help but fix your eyes to the paper in front of you. 

Weight shifted in front of you and a ringed hand pulled out the chair across from you. He waited to sit, giving you the opportunity to tell him to go away if you really wanted to. You gestured your hand as an invite for the figure in front of you to sit. His brown eyes studied you carefully as you heard the chains adorning his hips clanged against the wooden frame.

“What can I do for you, Eddie?” saying his name felt foreign, but familiar at the same time. Were you in an alternate timeline where you and Eddie speak? Eddie sighed in a poor attempt to loosen the knot in his chest. He knew that you were the last person you expected to talk to, and although he felt anxious, he didn’t feel unwelcome.

“Well, I was wondering if I could get your help with something…” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“See, we just finished a really grueling DnD campaign, the Hellfire guys and I, and I really wanted to get them something special. So, I was wondering, if I gave you their character sheets and descriptions, if you could make them some artwork of their characters? I would pay you, of course, and if it makes it easier, I can help you with any details or anything else that you may need. I just really want to do something nice for them. For a lot of them, it’s their last campaign.” You listened deeply to Eddie’s proposal. Although you refused to show it on the outside, your heart constricted at his thoughtfulness. It also panged with melancholy, as you wished that he would have done something that heartfelt for you; maybe things would have been different.

“That’s really nice, Eddie.” Your brain was telling you no, that this was a sure-shot way to get your heart broken into a million pieces again. But your heart soared, it just felt right. “Sure, I’ll help you. When do you need them?”

“You are the best, duckie. Thank you” Eddie beamed. Duckie. The nickname he gave you in fourth grade. Because you won’t stop squawking, he had joked. Eddie’s face matched yours: a mix of horrified surprise. “Y/N, I… I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from” you waved him off. 

“I could get them done by next week, depending on how many characters there are. “ Eddie felt like he could lunge across the table and kiss you, but he settled for messily scribbling onto a rogue sticky note sitting by your pencil case and sticking it to the table near your hand.

“Here’s my phone number in case you have any questions, or if you wanna come over and look at some of the other resources I have. But, I can toss you over those character sheets tomorrow, if that’s okay.” The boy seemed to talk a mile a minute. Not much has changed, you thought. You gave him a nod and a curt smile. Eddie backed away giddily, barely able to take his eyes off of you and almost running into several carts and shelves of books. 

“Oh! And you name your price, Du- Y/n. Whatever you want, you got it” Eddie all but skipped out of the library and you cradled your head in your hands, finally able to fully exhale.

Fuck.

You slouched into school the next morning, already wishing the day was over. You had finished the rest of your commission that evening, staying up late into the hours of the morning to finish it. You didn’t know if it was your anticipation of pouring time into Eddie’s commissions, or the procrastination of sleep and preventing your brain from thinking about the way Eddie looked at you like he did when you were in eighth grade, but you worked far beyond when you would have normally called it for the night. Small crescents formed above your cheeks and the May sunshine stung your eyes. You opened your locker to a manila envelope that had been slid through the top of your locker. You opened the envelope to a collection of chicken scratch on grid paper. The contents smelled suspiciously of weed and as you pulled out some of the papers, you could see the remnants of pizza grease on some of the writings. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing that memories were made over these papers. Victories were celebrated and losses recouped. There was love and care in these pages like these imaginary people were real. Your brows furrowed as you saw a green bill and a note paperclipped to it. You pulled it out and studied it carefully, astonished that you were holding a one hundred dollar bill in your hands. You removed the note and read it carefully.

A Deposit. -E

You folded the bill and put it in your jean pocket, slamming your locker shut once the character sheets were secured inside. You made your way down the hall and around the corner to the drama room. You peered inside to see a flurry of black and white raglans and mop heads of hair. You walked up to the boy you were searching for, perched on the only throne around the oak table full of maps and figurines. 

“Eddie, I-I can’t accept this.” You pulled the bill from your pocket and extended your hand towards him. Multiple eyes had made a confused purchase on you, a stranger, walking into their space and talking to their DM. Eddie quickly stood and led you out of the room, his hand hovering over the small of your back. When you were out of earshot from the rest of the club, Eddie sighed at you.

“It’s payment. I need to pay you.” He stated plainly.

“This is more than I would ever charge you” you insisted, pushing the bill into his hand. Eddie grabbed your wrist and hastily turned your palm upward. Your skin erupted in heat where he had grabbed you. His ringed hand folded over yours, slotting the money back into your grip.

“Sweetheart, I insist.” His eyes were warm, but firm. The familiarity of Eddie’s hard headedness reminded you that you were not going to win this fight. You looked deep into his eyes, a final challenge to get him to take the money back; but he was decided. You still knew that once Eddie Munson had made up his mind, no one could change it. 

“You don’t have to do this, Eddie. I wasn’t going to charge you at all.” Eddie scoffed at you. 

“Why the hell would you do that? You’re not doing that for free. You don’t owe me anything.” Eddie’s voice was unfamiliar, reminding you that after all that you had been through, he really was just a stranger in front of you. Maybe he didn’t feel the pull that you did, but it just seemed right to do the project. It felt right to do something for him.

You sighed in defeat and pulled your hand away from Eddie’s. You peeped a small alright before turning around and retreating to your locker. Eddie watched you turn away, his hand already missing the feeling of touching you again. He wanted to run after you so badly, just to bask in your presence a little longer, but suddenly, his feet were made of lead. 

-

You spent the next three days combing over all of the details of the five characters in front of you. You had so much detail, the boys of Hellfire meticulously pruning all details they possibly could. They made your job easy, but your anxiety wracked your brain. What if you were missing something big? Something you didn’t see but they all knew? You couldn’t lie to yourself, the second that Eddie had given you his phone number, every fibre of your heart wanted to call him. Now that you actually had a reason to, could you bring yourself to do it? You groaned in frustration after staring at the phone for 20 minutes. Fuck this, You thought. You hastily grabbed the mustard yellow receiver and spun Eddie’s numbers across the rotary. You bit down on your lip as the dial tones droned through your ears. Finally, you heard a raspy breath on the other side of the line. It took Eddie two hellos for you to will yourself to say something.

“E-Eddie, hi, sorry, it’s uh… It’s me - Umm, it’s Y/N” 

“Yeah, Hey.” Eddie responded coolly. It took everything in his power not to add how badly he wanted you to call him and how happy you finally had. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I have finished some beginning sketches for the characters, but I am worried I’m missing something. I was wondering if I could run these by you before I start the final drafts of them?” You wished you stopped talking there. You wished you waited for Eddie to respond, but your body hijacked your common sense. “I could bike over and show you-”

“Woah, woah, duckie. You don’t need to bike over” Your heart was in your ass. How could you be so stupid? Eddie wasn’t your friend. He was a customer. You were a transaction. This was nothing but a business interaction. You wished you could go back to three days ago and say no to him so this conversation would have never happened. You could have gone back to admiring and cheering on from afar, Eddie could have stayed a distant memory of what could be. 

“I’ll come get you. Let me know where you are and I’ll be there in 10.”

-

You sat on your front doorstep and waited for Eddie to pull up. You sat up straight when you heard a rattling muffler and Ozzy Ozbourne’s wailing voice turn onto your street. You hastily looked at your watch - 10:47pm, the dusk of Hawkins’ evening fading into night. You worried your neighbours would complain about the noise, so you trudged down your small driveway to meet the oncoming van at the curb. Eddie screeched to a halt at your feet and greeted you with rosy cheeks and a wide smile. 

“Hop in!”

The ride back to Eddie’s trailer was filled with comfortable silence. Your heart thumped as you bobbed your head to the next Ozzy track that played and you rounded the familiar roads that led you back to your childhood. It felt odd being back, but you also felt like you were transported to the past, like nothing had changed between you and Eddie. You were both still 14 and stealing beers from the Wilkinsons’ outdoor fridge, sneaking out to sit on Eddie’s trailer roof and watch the sunrise. You felt the nerves you did the first time you drew the head of curls that sat across from you, the boy that would silently read with you, or got you high for the first time.

“It looks the exact same” you peeped fondly as you pulled in front of the Munson trailer. 

“Yeah well you know Wayne and I aren’t the interior decorator types.” You giggled and Eddie’s smile got impossibly wider.”I didn’t think you’d remember what it looked like.”

You allowed Eddie to lead you up the cement steps to his front door. He held the flimsy screen open for you as you stepped through the threshold of the outside world and into a place you used to call your second home. Everything was the same. You ran your hand over a shelf of mugs fondly, and eyed family photos that had collected dust over years of watching the household grow up and old. Eddie took joy in watching you rediscover, reminding yourself of the memories these walls held. He thought of them and you frequently; too scared to ask you to reminisce with him, but overjoyed that you were now back in his space. 

“So,” he sat on the couch in front of the shabby coffee table. “Show me what you got” Eddie couldn’t help the teasing grin that spread across his face. Out of his surprise, you gave him a shy smile back. You sat beside him and unsheathed your drafts from your notebook.

“So, this is what I have so far. You guys made amazing character sheets - gave me a lot to work with. But I just wanted to make sure that I got all the details right, that someone wasn’t imagining something looking like something else and….” Your voice muffled as Eddie stared at the pieces of art that blessed his table. His plump lips turned into a small ‘oh’ and his eyes widened, desperate to take in every detail of the work you had created. His eyes only soften when he turns to you, heart swelling as he watches your eyes shine with fervent inspiration. You reminded him how smart you were, how detail oriented you were. How absolutely brilliant you were. He admired the way your cheeks flushed pink as you went through your process. Eddie couldn’t help but look at your lips. He could lean over and kiss you, you were so close. 

“Eddie?”

“Huh?”

“I said, what do you think?” You looked to him, brows furrowed in anxiety.

“If these are just the drafts, I can’t even imagine how amazing the finals are going to look.” You sighed and let out a small laugh in relief. 

“Alright, tell me what you want to change.”

Eddie spent the last hour and a half telling you about the progression of his campaign. It was your turn to admire the feverish storyteller in front of you. Eddie always had a way with words and with people. It didn’t surprise you at all that he had formed such a tight knit group to play with. You had seen the freshmen of his troupe follow him around Hawkins like little minions, but you could tell he cared for them greatly. Eddie’s eyes shone and his hands waved around as he shifted his weight to face you on the couch. He brought out his DM guide to show you some of the monsters in his new campaign when you felt your cheeks go hot. While Eddie absently flipped through pages, you saw your early works lining the page. You shook your head in awe: Eddie Munson was still using the Dungeon Master’s guide that you had customized for him half a decade ago; before there was Hellfire, or a campaign, it was you and Eddie in his bedroom flipping through the book in awe. Your drawings were secured with colorful tape that you had found in Wayne’s old toolbox - the colours now faded, but still recognizable to you.

You looked up to the metalhead, eyes full of tears. Eddie’s words caught in his throat as he looked at you.

“Duckie, what’s… What’s wrong?” He threw the book to the table and studied your face carefully. 

“The… your guide.” it's all you had to say before Eddie’s eyes shone with tears like yours. It’s all you could handle to say and it was all he could manage to hear. There was a heaviness, an understanding between the two of you: mutual regret. Longing to touch, to say all the things that you wished you could do the past three years. 

“Why would I get another one when this is the best one I could ever get?” You flash Eddie a heartbroken smile. You missed him so much. You looked down to your drafts, now dotted with notes and circles of small adjustments. You knew you were here for a job, but the boy in front of you understood as well as you did. You being here just felt right.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie exclaimed. “It’s almost 1 am…” he looked down at his wrist. You looked at him in panic.

“Damn it, my mom is gonna kill me.” You scrambled to pick up the loose drawings and shove them back into your notebook. Eddie was up on his feet by the time you were packed up.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

The streetlights highlighted Eddie’s complexion every couple of seconds and you couldn’t help but admire the man that was sitting beside you. He had shed his battle vest and leather jacket and donned a black hellfire crewneck. His black jeans had been traded for a pair of sweatpants and his hair frizzed lightly around his pale complexion. His neck bobbed as he idly drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He had looked at you and smiled, but he seemed deep in thought. He was a beautiful mystery giving you a vulnerable flash every few seconds. Eddie nibbled at his bottom lip as he turned onto your street, music down low as not to wake any neighbours. The van puttered into park in your driveway and the console light flicked on as Eddie turned the keys to quiet the engine. Your eyes found each other and although the threat of getting busted loomed just 10 feet away, you were stuck under his gaze; his silent pleas for you to stay just a moment longer beating out the need to leave. The two of you plunged into darkness as the light dimmed again, seemingly pulling you from your trance. 

“I-I should go.” You whispered. Eddie nodded solemnly.

“Thanks again, duckie. You’re really going above and beyond. The guys are going to love them” You flash Eddie one more smile as you turn and open the door. You turn to close the door, the light illuminating your frame one last time. 

“Thanks for the ride, Eddie, and for your help with the drawings.” There was a force dominating you, refusing to let you close the door just yet. You let Eddie drink in the sight of you one last time before you begrudgingly peeled your eyes off of him and shut the door carefully. Eddie watched you retreat into the darkness of your house and out of sight.

Eddie Munson didn’t cry. He rarely kept his emotions on his sleeve. But Eddie Munson missed you, arguably the best thing to ever happen to you.

He let the tears flow down his hot cheeks until he was back in his own driveway.

-

Eddie’s dreams were haunted by you. Your lips that so slightly turned up into a smile to the point where your eyes crinkle. He missed your laugh. He was so perplexed how someone who now, surely, was a total stranger also felt like home. He dreamed of your arms around his neck, your pillowy lips pressing into his. His dreams tormented them, feeling too real. He woke up with a gasp, the ghost of you lingering on his skin. He flopped his messy curls back down on his pillow.

-

You were in a similar state. Eddie’s hands on yours lingering in your subconscious. It was unbelievable how the boy made you feel like nothing had changed between the two of you; but you felt the tension between you pulling tighter. You dreamed about being in Eddie’s van mere hours ago. Your mind wandered about how easy it would have been to fall into his arms and let him envelop you in his embrace. You wondered what Eddie’s mouth tasted like. Was he still smoking? You imagined a mix of smoky weed and sweet cinnamon gum - at least that’s what he used to chew all the time when you were friends. Your mind drifted back to the toothless grin that met you in the third grade, how his curls bounced like he did on the balls of his feet. His big brown eyes were as bright as they were today, but his dusting of freckles were much more prominent when he was younger.

When you woke up, you felt a deep pain in your chest. Longing. Instead of attempting to lull yourself to sleep, you kicked your bedding off of your legs and shuffled over to your desk. You plucked your lamp on and spread out five pieces of watercolour paper and brought out your scribbled drafts. The flames of your desire were fed in your dreams, so if you sat up and worked on the character portraits, you could stoke the heat growing in your belly. 

-

The rest of the week was full of stolen glances and secret smiles. You had slept little, pouring your heart and soul into your commission; the feeling that this was the most important commission you would ever make. A small barrage of notes found their way into your locker. 

Hope your day is going well 

Can’t wait to see your work!

Duckie, a pick me up. You look like you need it. Attached to the note was a five dollar bill. On it, ‘for coffee’ was scrawled on Lincoln’s forehead. You couldn’t help but giggle.

The end of Friday found you in the library, taken up in your usual corner, adorning your headphones and new mixtape. Eddie took you by surprise, but unlike the previous week, his advances weren’t unwanted. As the boy took a seat across from you, you scrambled to cover your progress.

“Eddie! It’s supposed to be a surprise!” You scolded. Eddie's lips curved into a mischievous grin.

“I know, I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m just excited… I also just wanted to double check if you were able to get that coffee earlier, or if you needed water or anything.” Your eyes shot up to Eddie’s quizzically. His eyes bored into yours, a wash of concern veiling his face.

“Y-yeah, Eddie. I got my coffee.” You turned to your bag and shook your water bottle at him “And I got this, so I’m good.” Eddie shook his head at you.

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here.” You said. Eddie’s heart stopped at your comment. “I think I only need another day for these bad boys. Do you… can I drop them off on Sunday? I know you guys hold meetings on Sundays sometimes, so I could come by so you don’t have to wait to give them to the guys.” You bit your lip in anticipation. The library was all too quiet; the air thick with need. Eddie flashed you a lopsided smile.

“You know you’re amazing, right?” Eddie cooed.

“Huh”

“You’re just - I dunno. The best person ever. You always have been. It’s crazy to me.” Eddie stood up to leave before he did anything that you would regret. “Sunday is amazing, sweets. I’ll see you then,” he turned to flash you finger guns. “Breakfast at mine as a thank you. Hope you like pancakes!”

Like the hurricane he was, Eddie spun out of the library and down the hall. You let out a shaky exhale, grin plastered to your face. Eddie’s stride quickened as he all but skipped down the hallway while your heart skipped a beat.

-

You took up your regular posting at the Bloomington farmers market. Postcard drawings of Downtown Hawkins and canvases of Indiana florals scattered your booth. You had taken refuge on the small chair, adding the final details to your commissions. You were surprised at how well the characters turned out. The tough watercolour paper took beautifully to the brown stain you added to them. The bright purples, blues and greens of skin colours and cloaks almost jumped off the page. You smiled down at your creations and your heart fluttered. 

The last hour of your posting was always the slowest. You decided to pack the wares you had left into your portfolio. You decided to browse the farmers market. You rarely did so, chiding yourself and spending the money you had intended to make for the day; but something pulled you through the quaint aisles. You passed dry flowers, homemade jams and a deli. You threw a polite wave to the regulars that you saw selling almost every weekend. You halted in front of a vendor you hadn’t seen before. The small banner placed in front of their booth read “Warp Comics and Sci Fi Store” in flashy font. You saw rows of comic book figurines in shiny plastic. Beside the stall, a bookshelf of Marvel Comics and used sci fi books. Posters and magnets lined the shelf and you smiled at the creature of the black lagoon magnet staring back at you. It was the first horror movie you had ever seen - watching it in Eddie’s trailer at the innocent age of 10. You had nightmares for a week after, in which your only solace was to call Eddie. He would lie and say that he couldn’t sleep either to make you feel better. Your eyes wandered across the table to a display of Dungeon Master’s guides. In front of it, an array of plastic boxes holding assorted dice. You found it hard to believe you needed so many different types of dice to play a seemingly simple game, but you picked up a box full of crystalline dice. They shimmered in the afternoon sunlight and you couldn’t help the small gasp of wonder at how beautiful the dice looked. You would hesitate to use these in a game, preferring to set them out like beautiful miniature art sculptures. You ran your hands across the other boxes and your heart stopped beating altogether. You opened the top of the box to take a better look. You saw an array of ruby and black marbled dice, each facing outlined in a dark metal. The numbers peered up at you in shiny gold paint.

“How much are these?” you asked politely.

“40” the man behind the stall grunted. You happily pulled out your wallet and slid two twenties across the stall with a small thank you. You closed the box and carefully put it into your bag.

-

The bike from your house to Eddie’s was not long, but your stomach churned at every street you passed. You wished that you were pulling into the gravel driveway already, but also prayed that each moment on your ride would last an hour. You were prepared: each character portrait wrapped in tissue and slotted carefully into a letterbox to protect it during your ride. You had signed the corner of each creation and reviewed Eddie’s feedback several times. The extra rattling coming from your bag added to the rattling in your bag. That night you had spent hours pacing around your room, flipping between regret and excitement to the ruby dice you now possessed. You tried to rationalize why you bought them, but you had no explanation. It just felt right. You were so confused, your brain and heart waging war in your body. 

Eddie had barely slept, too anxious for your arrival and that he wouldn’t wake up in time to get himself ready. He wondered what you would wear, your uniform often consisting of a flannel and jeans or shorts. He kicked himself for not picking you up, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He looked at himself in the mirror in his room and smirked: he was the epitome of desperation. He hopped in the shower and detangled his curls. He looked at his bare body in the mirror and a wave of embarrassment coursed through him. If you were here right now, would you like what you saw? He groaned and shook his head as he slid on his boxers. He paced back to his room and threw on his nice jeans then immediately looked into his mirror. With a horrified scowl he threw the jeans off and put on his favorite pair - he didn’t want to scare you off. He dabbed his bare chest with his cologne before slipping on his Dio tee. He gave his chocolate waves one last scrunch and exhaled. That was as good as it was going to get. 

Your bike groaned to a halt in front of Eddie’s humble trailer. You traipsed up the steps to the door and bit your lip to ground yourself before knocking. 

“It’s just another client, just another commission” you whispered to yourself. You were hoping if you said it enough, your heart would believe it to be true. Eddie flung the door open and greeted you with a shy smile. Your heart's pace doubled as the metalhead’s usual heightened demeanor was small and deliberate. He looked you up and down, but unlike before, it was as if he was studying and appreciating every detail about you. You had ditched your flannel for a plaid skirt and a beat up Beatles t-shirt. Your had let your natural waves cure during your bike ride. You looked almost ethereal to Eddie. His cheeks bloomed a hot red and his smile was warm.

“Hey, you. Come on in” Eddie spoke, his voice soft.

“Thanks, Eddie. I don’t have to stay long, but I have-”

“No, no! Stay as long as you’d like. We don’t have Hellfire for a few more hours and I could always drive you home on the way to the school… or you could join us, you know. If you want.” Eddie eyed you cautiously, fearful of crossing any boundaries. “I know I always said that I would teach you how it worked but…” his sentiment caught in his throat as he looked at you with eyes full of guilt. You flashed him a lovesick smile.

“I’d really like that.” You stepped toward him; the familiar feeling of the knot between the two of you being pulled impossibly tight. Eddie took another step toward you, closing the gap between you even more. You could smell the cologne that he had applied along with the cigarette he had smoked before your arrival. The air around the two of you was constricting, stealing the air from your lungs. One lunge and you would be reunited in the best way possible. The stakes were too high and your feet were cemented to the ground. You watched Eddie’s jaw tighten and his Adam’s apple bob. His gaze flickered to your lips. The realization hit both yours and Eddie’s eyes and you pulled away from each other before the tension could finally snap. You cleared your throat and Eddie backed himself into his living room. He looked back at you and gestured to you to follow. You rifled through your bag as you sat next to him on the couch. 

“Um, here’s the portraits.” You placed the box onto the dingy coffee table. Although the air was still thick, you couldn’t help but smile excitedly towards the metalhead sitting next to you. He eyed you with excited anticipation. 

“Open them!” you squealed, desperate to see his reaction. “And if you hate them, please don’t tell me because I don’t think my heart could take it” you giggled. Your eyes glued themselves to your hands fidgeting in your lap. You are torn from picking your nails by a soft gasp that Eddie let out.

“Y/N.. I… They’re incredible. Oh my god.” You let out a relieved laugh. Eddie turned back to you with an awe struck smile. 

“I told you you were amazing..” His voice barely above a whisper. He pulled you into a tight hug and you thought your heart was going to explode, seemingly like Eddie’s. Your head rested on his chest and you felt the pounding of his heartbeat on your cheek. You pulled away, daring to reach back in your bag to find the cool plastic of the box you were so scared to present. 

“I also saw these and, I dunno, I just, I really needed to get them for you.” You hastily pushed the box into Eddie’s calloused palms. His eyes doubled in size and glazed over, tears threatening.

“Sweetheart.”

“I- I don’t know why I bought them, I just needed t-” you babbled. Before you could finish your tangent, Eddie had leaned over to you and pressed his lips firmly to yours. You melted into his touch, his hand resting against your warm cheek.

“I have been so goddamn stupid” Eddie murmured against your lips. You gasped softly into his mouth and he moved against you. He slid his tongue against your bottom lip, a silent plea to deepen his kiss. You allowed him entry and felt his warm tongue on yours. You felt your chest tighten, and the familiar burn of tears radiated in your eyes. Suddenly, you felt the cool sting of metal on your sides under your shirt. The next thing you knew you were pulled into the boy’s lithe waist, your own legs caging him into the couch. Eddie’s arms wrapped around your waist and he broke your kiss. His eyes searched yours, looking for any hesitation or disgust. After all, how could you not hate him? The shit that he put you through, he thought you deserved better - to never speak to him again and let someone who treated you better sweep you off your feet. He felt selfish, as he revelled that it was your body heat keeping him warm. Your lower lip trembled as you looked at the beautifully sorrowful face staring at you. You needed Eddie’s lips back on yours, you needed to feel how much he cared about you. You cupped his jaw in a desperate attempt to move him back into you, but his head collapsed into your neck and you felt his shoulders shake softly. You felt his hot breath on your collarbone in sobs. You cradled his head in his soft curls.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I-I… I don’t even expect you to forgive me. I wouldn’t. I ruined everything.” Sobs wracked through the boy’s hunched back. The only thing you could do was cradle his head and let your own tears silently fall. “I pushed you away and when you let me I didn’t come after you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me and I was too fucking stupid to act on it.”

“Eddie? Look at me please” you peeped. You grabbed his flushed cheeks and guided his gaze to yours.

“Duckie…”

“I’ve loved you since sixth grade. I loved you since we watched scary movies in the trailer alone. I have loved you since you offered to trade sandwiches with me every lunch you brought my favorite. I have never stopped loving you since then. And as mad as I was, I will never stop loving you.” The words flowed from your mouth before your brain could catch up. You caught your breath as a big pair of brown eyes scrunched themselves closed. Your lips smashed together and you felt the weight in your chest dissipate. Eddie’s large hands trailed up your back and pressed you closer to him; but close was not nearly close enough, you wanted to melt into Eddie’s body completely, to be one. Fuck, you went so long without him, you never wanted to be apart again.

I love yous peppered your skin from the side of your mouth to your neck, skin burning with every declaration.

“Please don’t leave me ever again” you sighed both in contentment and relief. You had your Eddie back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling. Lucky for us all we have left is time.”

“Enough time to teach me how to play DnD?”

“Fuck, you really are going to be the death of me.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent in Eddie’s lap, reading the decorated manual that had never made much sense to you before. Eddie caught you up on the next campaign he was planning. He offered to help you make a character then so you could join the club that evening. You giggled and politely shook your head. 

“I think I should watch a couple campaigns before I dive in.” Eddie kissed your nose in understanding. 

“Fine, but I may use your expertise in some NPC characters, if that’s okay with you.”

“Okay, Teddy.”

You opened the passenger's side door and slid into the rusted van while Eddie put your bike in the back. The drive to Hawkins High consisted of Eddie stealing looks at you any time he could and his hand resting comfortably on your thigh. You walked into the drama room hand in hand and were greeted by a gaggle of confused, yet welcoming looks.

“Hey, guys, sorry we’re a bit late.”

You raised your hand in a wave and introduced yourself. 

“Oh, we know exactly who you are,” Gareth responded. You looked at him confused, obviously not having formally met.

“Yeah, you’re the girl that Munson won't shut up about!” Dustin added. You turned to Eddie with a teasing smile. He rolled his eyes and guided you to a seat. 

Eddie gave each member of the club their portraits, which they all ogled over. You watched the new campaign kick off with shouts and laughs. Eddie was a colorful narrator, leaning over the table and shaking his head wildly. The whole time he guided the party through the night’s adventures, he didn’t dare unclasp his hand with yours.

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[yanderes-galore]

A story that takes place possibly after Act 3 where Rolan, now the master of Ramazith's Tower, takes on an apprentice... and gets too into them.

Added some Tiefling behavior HCs that I like. For example, tail behavior and I LOVE the idea of them purring like cats.

Yandere! Master! Rolan with Apprentice! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Isolation/Imprisonment, Inappropriate work relationship (?), Implied coercion, Rolan's a big cat, Biting, Dubious relationship.

Rolan has always dreamed of this moment.

He always wanted to be a great wizard in Faerûn.

Now, with the help of his friend Tav (despite how he's treated them in the past), he's even got a tower of knowledge!

What else could a wizard want than a place to study, rest, and speak with his siblings?

He's happy to have a home... Plus, now that he's an Archmage...

He gets to have students.

Years after the defeat of the Netherbrain and Tav saved Baldur's Gate, Rolan's been studying and sharing the knowledge of Ramazith's Tower with eager wizards in Baldur's Gate.

This is where he meets you, an eager wizard who reminds him so much of himself years ago.

Granted, you aren't as arrogant as he was/is... but he's been keeping an eye on you.

Sometimes you buy or rent tomes from him, or sometimes he allows you into his library to teach you some spells.

Maybe Rolan originally just assumes you'll be at his tower occasionally to browse or learn.

Then, you do something that goes straight to his ego.

"I was hoping I could be your apprentice, Archmage... You're strong and I wish to strengthen my knowledge in this tower."

You probably were expecting Rolan to say 'No.'

He's busy, he isn't the nicest person at times, he probably isn't taking apprentices—

Then Rolan cuts you off.

"If you're cut out for it, sure. How about you prove yourself to me first...."

You weren't expecting his acceptance, yet eagerly agree to show him what you got.

Rolan accepts your apprenticeship for a few reasons.

One, it inflates his ego that you see his strength and are choosing to learn from him.

Two, he wants to show he can be better than his old master and not exploit his apprentice for devious acts.

Three... Truthfully, Rolan might've had his eyes on you the more you came to his tower.

You're pleasant company... and the thought of having an apprentice of his own... It makes the Tiefling very excited.

However, I doubt Rolan expected to fall for his apprentice.

You're just... great company and you make him feel so soothed.

Even his siblings can tell how Rolan acts around you.

While Rolan usually keeps up an arrogant and stoic persona... His siblings know him enough to study his behavior.

When reading a spellbook or scroll with each other, they see his tail sway and threaten to wrap around your leg or arm.

When teaching you a new spell or he shows off, his tail wags at your praise.

When around you he's trying to suppress his purr... but his siblings can hear the faint rumble in his chest when he's around you.

They can even tell when he's thinking of you while alone, the Archmage purring as he daydreams during his studies.

His siblings tease him, claiming he's falling for his student, which often makes Rolan act out.

H-He's not!

He's just... enjoying your company and presence and... He can't control his damn purr or tail, okay!?

Rolan tries hard to hide his feelings.

He wants to keep it professional, he wants to be a good master for you.

Yet it doesn't help that you now live at the tower with him and his siblings.

Rolan has trouble sleeping knowing you're just a little ways away.

He really does yearn for you some nights... wishing you could share his bed... wishing he could warm you and purr against you...

He wants you to be his.

Being your master, the one you look up to to learn from, soothes his possessive instincts a little...

Yet he fears it won't be enough.

My personal HC for Tieflings is they're possessive due to their infernal blood.

Poor Rolan constantly fights with these instincts....

He loves teaching you, he loves the trust you put in him...

He tells himself he won't exploit you... He won't be like his old master.

But... is it exploitation if he loves you?

He isn't intending to hurt or use you.

He just... He craves your warmth.

Imagine Rolan doing little acts of courtship to try and warm you up to the idea?

He gives you gifts like new enchanted artifacts or spell tomes to learn.

He stays close to you, allowing you to feel his hotter than normal body heat as a Tiefling.

Sometimes his tail does instinctively wrap around your thigh or waist while you're near each other.

You no doubt care about him... So when he comes to you with a blushing face and his tail twitching... you understand.

He's confessing... and you may just accept.

Is the power dynamic unhealthy? A bit....

But Rolan is careful, he sees you more as equals, just wizards who learn and now love together.

Despite bordering on being a tsundere who pretends he isn't in love with you... He's so damn affectionate.

When you go to sleep, Rolan settles behind you with his tail around your waist.

He really is like a large cat, draping himself over you while you sleep, purring away as he holds you tightly.

He may even lick and nibble your shoulder or neck to soothe his possessive instincts, purring and cuddling you.

He's adorable in a way....

He even wants to cuddle against you while you study, he's always looking for spells to impress you.

His siblings support him as long as he isn't harming you.

It's funny... He can go days where he's moody, barking at everyone or being his typical arrogant self.

Then when you're around, his instincts kick in and he's by your side, tail squeezing your waist possessively.

Rolan seems moody if he gets jealous.

He'll be studying at his desk, tail thrashing and flicking as he sees you interact and help another wizard.

Soon enough he calls you over, giving you a book to read before dealing with the other wizard himself.

He may even be a little... aggressive, like he's trying to show the other wizard he's the boss here.

Afterwards Rolan comes back to you, leaning against you to nuzzle you as you read, nibbling to see the dark marks his possessive side adores seeing on you.

It's... cute to a point...

You'll soon notice Rolan's behavior is a bit... out of control.

He rarely lets you leave the tower, not even for errands.

He doesn't let you sleep in your own bed, insisting on you being by his side so he can rub his head against you to scent you.

The purring is cute... But Rolan quickly becomes demanding.

Rolan's infernal blood drives a lot of his actions around you.

He's addicted to your attention, your touch, your scent...

All of you.

Rolan may try to hide his jealousy... but you can tell he's irritated through body language.

His tail does not lie.

He claims letting you leave the tower could get you hurt.

If errands really must be done... He could send his siblings.

He likes alone time with you anyways.

When it comes to the issue of if Rolan would kill... I'd have to say probably not.

Rolan is more likely to keep you in isolation at his tower than kill.

But he will be rough with other wizards in duels.

There's times his possessive instincts make him feel a bit... violent.

But if he is feeling possessive or jealous... He'll just come to you and drag you off to go pay attention to him.

Good luck trying to leave him or call him out on his instincts...

He's stubborn and unwilling to let you go.

If you try to be stubborn yourself and walk out, Rolan is quick to stop you.

His tail moves to trip you... or maybe he summons arcane constructs to block you.

As your master and partner, he knows best.

Wizards typically spend most of their life studying in a tower in solitude.

So why not just learn with him.... you love him, right?

There's ways to soothe him and keep him under control... Usually by giving him attention to calm the possessive blood within him.

Distract him with affection and he's putty in your hands.

Plus, you can probably still walk around Baldur's Gate with him following you.

He probably needs to be out more anyways.

Rolan is manipulative but doesn't think of himself like his master.

Sure, he's trying to keep you in his tower... But he's not using you.

He's loving you... Every kiss, caress, and intimate moment... It's with love.

He doesn't realize he might be overwhelming or too arrogant in thinking you love him so much.

Maybe with his new possessive behavior you want to call things off.

Honestly, if you compared him to his old master, Rolan would snap at you.

He's NOTHING like that liar!

He wants you strong, loved, his....

Rolan wants to give you everything... He wants to keep you all to himself as his apprentice...

Just a master and his apprentice... his love... surrounded by knowledge and wrapped in each other's arms...

What else could a wizard want?

Surely that's better than the freedom you keep claiming he's taking from you?

"This is where you belong... with me! You'll get everything you'll ever want... so long as you be mine and mine alone, my apprentice.... Just... stay with me...!"

[uncanny-tranny]

Here's the thing about politics, and ultimately, the world: you are going to be biased, and you are going to have a limited understanding of others to an extent. The key is to not deny that this exists because you will be ignorant when you are biased and limited in your worldview.

Yes, absolutely listen to multiple voices and points of view and a variety of different types of people. But know that this isn't the same as erasing all biases and "self-centered" views. Strive to do better without denying that you are fallible.

[girlwithrituals]

GLOW UP GUIDE FOR 2025⠀

READ: On average, it takes more than 2 months before a new behavior becomes automatic — 66 days to be exact. And considering that 2025 is precisely these many days away, why not start with our glow up plan already?

Physical Glow Up-

BODY

— 5-10K steps a day.

— 7-8 hours of sleep.

— workout everyday for 1 hr atleast- yoga/stretching/pilates/cardio/lifting weights. a workout may take one hour, but your mood will be boosted for the next 12 hours.

— posture training.

— sunlight exposure after waking up for at least 10 minutes.

NUTRITION

— 2-3 liters of water every day.

— limit your caffeine intake.

— avoid sugars as much as you can.

— high protein diet, pre and probiotics.

— more fruits and veggies (+ green smoothies if you like).

— no junk/processed food/trans fat.

— no eating after 8 pm.

SKINCARE

— be clear on your skin type (oily, dry, combination, sensitive).

— once you're clear, use these accordingly- cleanser, toner, targeted serum, eye cream, moisturizer, sunscreen (≥50 spf).

— keep your bedding clean as well.

— no picking of skin on your lips, cuticle etc.

— gua sha to help improve blood circulation and lessen toxins.

— cold therapy may take three to five minutes of being uncomfortable, but your energy levels will be boosted for the rest of the day.

— remove makeup before you go to bed.

BODY CARE

— shower every day.

— exfoliate 2x a week.

— use body lotion (shea butter/aloe vera gel/coconut oil).

HAIR CARE

— wash hair 2-3x a week

— oil your scalp 2x a week, at least 3 hours before shampoo.

— hair mask 1x per week.

— never brush wet hair.

— use silk pillow case.

HYGIENE

— brush your teeth 2x a day, clean tongue and the roof of the mouth daily.

— floss daily.

— cut your nails 1x a week, never remove the cuticles.

— glycolic acid under arm for odor and discoloration.

— never use soap on your coochie.

Mental Glow Up-

MINDSET

— set clear goals- define and breakdown your aspirations.

— start your mornings with positive affirmations.

— surround yourself with uplifting content and people.

— be shamelessly selfish to your career and mental health, remove anyone or anything that doesn't align with your priorities and wellbeing.

— boost your brain health by these 4 neuroscience tools:

difficult first: start your day with the most difficult task (cortisol and dopamine are high in the body meaning that your body/mind is primed to work).

rest your eyes: introduce a micro-pause after learning by resting/closing your eyes - will help retain information better.

tomorrow's worries: write tomorrow's to-do list before bed as it is proven to be effective in helping you fall asleep.

find time to play: engage in low-stake play. can be anything you find fun but where the outcome doesn't matter (induces neuroplasticity + reduces stress).

MIND

— meditation might take as low as ten minutes, but your focus will be improved for the rest of the day.

— no social media after waking up and at least an hour before bed.

— keep aside 1 hr of time to read daily! reading a new book may take five hours, but you will keep the knowledge forever.

— journaling, gratitude.

— digital detox once a week or for 12 hours.

— limit unnecessary screentime, unfollow or cut off people you don't want to see.

JOURNALING

— choose a regular time each day to journal, making it a part of your routine.

— find a quiet, comfortable place free from distractions. light a candle if you want.

— allow your thoughts to flow without censoring or editing.

— write about your feelings and emotions to understand them better. write about things you are thankful for to boost your mood. write about your short-term and long-term goals. identify what triggers certain emotions or reactions

— set a timer for 5-10 minutes and write continuously during that time.

— reflect on both positive experiences and challenges.

— make lists, journal your thoughts on these questions.

— journal at night to clear your mind before bedtime, because emotions and thoughts lose their power once we acknowledge them.

— a gratitude practice may take five minutes, but your mindset will be shifted for the rest of the day.

AFFIRMATIONS

— customise affirmations to your needs.

Personal Life-

WEEKLY TASKS

— initiate small changes: begin with small, manageable tasks such as making your bed or cleaning your room every sunday.

— celebrate your success: reward yourself when you achieve your goals or have a consistently productive week. consider treats like buying flowers for yourself or watching your favorite show.

DAILY WORK

— set achievable goals: establish realistic goals for the day, week, or month ahead.

— track your progress.

— organise your work space, declutter your shelves etc.

— embrace the power of lists: keep a list of tasks to be done and their deadlines. this way, you start each day with a clear plan. to make it visually appealing and motivating, consider using productivity apps like evernote, habit tracker, or notion.

PRODUCTIVITY TIPS

— wake up early.

— plan ahead everything, do scheduling. you can use:

google calendar / notion / tasks .

— if the task takes less than 2 minutes to finish, do it immediately.

— countdown rule, if you are procrastinating, count 1-2-3-4-5 and jump.

— start slow, don't rush and try to do everything at one time.

— follow a proper routine, use app locks based on screentime.

— pomodoro technique, 25 min work, and 5 min break.

— schedule longer break times as well e.g 30 min nap.

[portmantaur]

maybe im speaking out of pocket, but I’m already seeing some…things, and I think it’s important given recent events: those of us who are not Black really need to be mindful of and not lax with nipping misogynoir in the bud in the upcoming months. that kind of thing is almost guaranteed to get more out of hand than it already is, and we gotta make sure we’re not just passively participating in or excusing it. i think we really gotta get into a “see something, say something” mindset about it.

[geminiwritten]

emergency contact ; bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

fandom: top gun

pairing: bradley x reader

summary: rooster exploits having you as his emergency contact to get you away from hangman

notes: okay, i am so sorry if this is rushed but i had to get it out before i start my new job (and maybe won't have so much time to write)... i really hope y'all enjoy it!!! please let me know, i really love all kinds of feedback! (p.s. this is also super lame and cheesy but that’s just my genre now)

warnings: swearing, very poor us navy knowledge (i literally just do some very brief googling), very minor and probably inaccurate medical descriptions, text chat screenshots, use of y/n (which is a warning now?), and a kind of rushed ending

word count: 9129

“Damn.” You stop just before stepping into the sun, tipping your head forward so you can see over the frame of your sunglasses. “I should come here more often.”

Fighter jets line the tarmac in two neat rows, and in the middle under the shade of one of the jets are your friends, the dagger squad. They’re all on the ground, half of them in a sit up position and the other half doing push ups. All looking absolutely fine.

Maverick is talking to someone a little off to your right, but you’re more than happy to wait for him while you ogle the pilots performing their punishments. Hondo is standing over the seven of them, counting repetitions loudly and correcting their forms.

“Hey,” Maverick calls, his voice echoing into the hangar.

You turn to see him tuck his helmet under one arm as he walks quickly toward you. “Hey Mav.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I had a day off, so I thought I’d finally get my pre-enrolment sorted out for my DBIDS card.” You hold up the ID badge hanging on a lanyard around your neck. “You’re my sponsor, by the way.”

He frowns. “Aren’t I supposed to be escorting you, then?”

You hike your thumb over your shoulder toward where you’d entered the hangar. “Warlock vouched for me and said he’d get you to take me back to the VCC and sign everything then.”

Maverick glances passed you, giving a short wave to the rear admiral who had stopped to talk to a couple of other officers. “Well then, I better wrap this lot up,” he says. “Are you alright to wait a bit?”

You nod, letting your lips curl into a smirk as your eyes slide back over to the squad. “I am more than happy to wait.”

His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “They’ll start showing off if they know you’re here. Why don’t you come over and say hello?”

You push the bridge of your sunglasses further up your nose. “I would love to.”

Mav leads the way to the squad, into the sun and across the hot tarmac. It’s unusually warm today, and you can feel your skin start to perspire after only a few steps out from under the hangar’s shade. Or maybe you’re just starting to sweat because of the scene you’re approaching.

You’ve never seen the squad in their flight suits before. You’ve seen pictures and videos, but you’ve never seen them in person. On a hot day. Half unzipped and tied around their waists. As they drip with sweat.

Your eyes find Bradley’s head of tousled golden-brown locks immediately, and your heartrate ratchets up a few notches, your breath catching in your throat. He’s doing push ups, his dog tags touching the concrete on every dip and his back muscles rippling under the black material of his shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked skin.

Your knees almost wobble when you stop beside Maverick, and Jake is the first to notice you as he comes up for his next sit up. “Hey gorgeous,” he calls out, that signature smirk plastered across his flushed face.

“Hey.” You let your eyes wander over the rest of the group before settling back on Bradley. Your sunglasses slide a little further down your nose and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard to try and distract yourself from the way Bradley’s biceps are bulging and straining.

When he glances up at you, your head spins. His face is flushed and his brows furrowed, but there’s still a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Hey sweetheart.”

“Eyes down, Rooster,” Hondo barks.

Bradley’s head snaps back down, but the next push up he does seems a little firmer and a little lower. Your mouth waters as you trace the outline of his broad shoulders, letting your gaze slide down his back to his butt, lingering there as his muscular body moves up and down.

“Phoenix, you’re done,” Hondo announces, startling you out of your trance.

Natasha lets out a whoosh of air as she finishes her sit ups and falls back against the concrete. She shields her eyes with one hand, squinting toward you and waving her other hand in the air.

You wave back just as Hondo announces, “Hangman, Coyote, you’re done.”

Javy falls back the same way Natasha had, his hands holding his abdomen as he works on catching his breath, but Jake doesn’t stop. He maintains perfect form as he sinks back and sits up, winking at you before lowering himself back again.

Natasha scoffs. “Show off.”

Maverick catches your eye and smirks before taking half a step forward. “What’s your goal here, Hangman? Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

“No sir,” Jake replies, his expression full of steely focus. “Just trying to impress the lady and outlast these chumps.”

Mickey chuckles as he lowers himself into another push up. “Since when is Y/N a lady?”

“Hey!” you exclaim.

Laughter rolls through the squad, and even Hondo cracks a smile as he says, “Bob, you’re done.”

Bob finishes his sit ups with a sigh and wraps his arms around his knees, chuckling softly through his ragged breaths.

You look at Maverick, tipping your chin in Mickey’s direction. “Can I sit on him?”

Mav chuckles. “As much as I'd love to see that, not with Warlock standing twenty feet away.”

You roll your eyes and sigh, turning back to face the group.

“You can sit on me,” Jake says as he rises into another sit up. He lowers himself back with a shit-eating grin before sitting up again. “Later tonight.”

Javy, Mickey, and Reuben snicker as Natasha rolls her eyes, but Bradley stays silent. You can see little droplets of sweat soaking into the concrete below him, and your first thought is ‘what a waste’. Great, you’re officially creepy enough to want to drink his sweat.

“Alright,” Hondo says. “That’s enough, the lot of you.”

Mickey and Reuben groan as they sit back on their haunches and turn their heads up to the sky, breathing in the warm afternoon air, but Bradley keeps going.

“Rooster, Hangman, that’s enough,” Mav says, his voice stern despite the smirk on his lips.

“I can last as long as you can, Bradshaw,” Jake taunts.

Bradley lets out a harsh breath as he pushes himself up again. “That’s not what I’ve heard, Seresin.”

A chorus of ooh’s fills the air as the rest of the squad watch the two stubborn boys, eyes bouncing between them. You have to keep reminding yourself to look over at Jake, to not make it so obvious that half the reason you’re here is to drool over Bradley.

“Come on, boys,” Maverick sighs. “That’s enough.”

Neither of them let up, and Hondo chuckles to himself as he strolls into the hangar.

Maverick clears his throat. “Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Seresin, that is enough.”

They both stop and quickly get to their feet, their faces red and glistening with sweat. You can’t help but wonder if that’s what Bradley would look like after a good few hours of sex. You definitely plan on finding out one day, if you can ever find the courage to make a move.

“No debrief this afternoon,” Maverick announces. “So, unless anyone has anyone questions, you’re all dismissed.”

Bob quickly pipes up with a question about one of the exercises they performed earlier in the day, but you can barely hear the discussion between him and Maverick. Your eyes are all over Bradley, because seeing him in his flight suit is doing something to you, something more than usual. He’s standing wide, those big black boots planted further than shoulder-width apart, making his legs look even longer and more powerful than usual. His arms are crossed, his biceps straining against the black fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt. It’s clinging to every inch of his muscled torso, tucked into the flight suit that is tied around his waist. The gold in his hair is shining beneath the hot sun, his tan skin is glowing with sweat, and his slutty sunglasses are perched a little too low on his nose. This man is walking sex, and it’s becoming a health hazard because you’re pretty sure you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

A voice suddenly breaks through your Bradley-induced trance. “Is that okay?”

You blink a couple of times, refocusing on Maverick who is now standing between you and the squad with his eyebrows raised in question. “Is what okay?”

He rolls his eyes, lips quirked into a small but knowing smirk. “I’m just going to have a quick shower before taking you back to the VCC. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” He claps a hand on your shoulder. “You go ahead and get back to that daydream. By the look on your face, it was getting good.”

You scowl at him as he chuckles and walks away, heading in the same direction that Reuben and Mickey are walking. The rest of the squad are still standing in front of you, chatting about something that you assume came up from Bob’s earlier query.

Jake breaks away from the group, stepping toward you with a wide grin. “What brings you out here, gorgeous?”

“Getting my pre-enrolment sorted out,” you reply.

“For a DBIDS card?”

You nod.

“Why do you need to be able to visit unchaperoned?” he asks, that usual cocky glint making his green eyes sparkle. “I’ll gladly be your chaperone whenever you want to visit.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “As much as I would love to be personally escorted by you, Hangman, I thought it would be smart in case I ever need to enact my emergency contact duties.”

He frowns. “Who’s emergency contact are you?”

“That would be me,” Bradley says, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling so wide as you look up at him, but you know your bright red cheeks are already giving you away.

“I thought your emergency contact was Mav?” Jake asks.

“He was,” Bradley replies. “But then I thought that if I’m ever in an emergency situation, there’s probably a good chance that Mav is in that situation with me.”

Jake nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” A beat of silence passes before he turns his attention back to you, that flirty smirk reappearing as he claps his hands together. “Anyway, are we all set for tomorrow?”

“Yep,” you respond. “Are you still sure you want to spend your day off helping me?”

“Of course. Any day with you is a day well spent, whether it involves manual labour or not.”

You asked Jake a few weeks ago to help with the delivery and assembly of your new bedframe and mattress and getting rid of your old stuff, since the last time you did it on your own you nearly ended up in the hospital with a slipped disc. Normally, you would ask Bradley for help with this kind of thing, but your crush has been so stifling the last couple of months that you know it would be counterproductive to have Bradley sweating and moving heavy things in your bedroom. Besides, Jake happens to have the day off because he’s owed an RDO, and he insists that he doesn’t mind helping you out. It’s a win-win situation; you get a new bed, and no one ends up in the hospital with a broken back. Not that you would mind if Bradley broke your back.

“What’s tomorrow?” Bradley asks, his brows pinched into a frown.

“I’m helping her in bed,” Jake replies quickly, his grin downright evil. “I mean, with her bed.”

You roll your eyes at Jake again, before looking up at Bradley. “I’m getting a new bedframe and mattress, remember?”

“Right,” he says, brows still furrowed. “I thought I told you I’d help you with that?”

The way he’s looking down at you is making the butterflies in your stomach riot. He looks like a scolded puppy, wondering what he did wrong to deserve this punishment.

“You did, but Jake has the day off and you’ve already done enough slave labour for me.”

“But I like being your slave,” he says, the corner of his lips tipping up slightly.

It takes all your strength not to groan out loud. He is not making this easy.

“And you will always be my favourite slave, Bradley.” You pat a hand on his chest. “Which is why I need to give you a break every now and then.”

You pull your hand away quickly, immediately regretting the fact that you just felt up his firm chest and damp shirt, because now you’re getting that familiar ache behind your hipbones. The ache that only your vibrator and fantasies of Bradley can satiate, but even that hasn’t been enough lately. You need the real thing.

The sound of your name echoing through the hangar draws your attention, and you look over your shoulder to see Maverick with spikey, wet hair waving you toward him.

“That’s my cue.” You turn back to Jake. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and you”- you look up at Bradley -“on the weekend.”

When you slide out from under Bradley’s arm, it suddenly feels like this very hot day has turned cold. It takes all your strength to keep your feet moving one after the other away from him. You’ve had a crush on Bradley Bradshaw from the moment you first met him, but it’s called a ‘crush’ for a reason, because now it is crushing you. He’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last name on your lips before you fall asleep.

“Are you alright?” Maverick asks once you reach him, and you know it’s because your cheeks are bright red.

“Yeah, just a bit hot out here.”

He nods as you both start walking toward the door. “It’s supposed to be even hotter tomorrow.”

Back at the Visitor Control Centre, Maverick signs everything he needs to in order to grant you unchaperoned access to the base. After that, he walks you to your car and bids you farewell. You’re more than grateful for your car’s aircon as you take a moment to collect your thoughts, the ones that are running wild with fantasies about Bradley in that damn flight suit.

Eventually, you make your way home and immediately hole yourself up in your room. You spend over an hour in there to trying to satisfy that ache below your belly, but the incessant messages from the group chat popping up on your phone screen make it difficult. Only when your stomach starts to grumble do you give up and head into the kitchen, reading through the messages you’d been trying to ignore.

You hit send on your last message and smack your phone face down on the kitchen counter. Your cheeks are red and your heart is racing, and you’re not hungry anymore because your stomach has twisted itself into one big nervous knot.

You know that whatever it is between you and Bradley is no secret. You assume it’s because you drunkenly confessed to Bob, Mickey, and Natasha one night that you had a huge crush on him, and since then the rest have seemingly caught on. You don’t mind the teasing – at least, you didn’t at first, but it’s becoming more frequent and making you more nervous. Bradley rarely interacts with it, and all you do is tell them to shut up or butt out. You can’t figure out if they’re simply teasing because they can, or if they actually see something between the two of you that is real.

There have been a couple of times when you’ve wondered if Bradley might feel the same way. You even almost made a move once, before chickening out and refusing to look him in the eye for two weeks straight. You know you’re being a little bitch about it, and you hate yourself every day for being like one of those characters in your romance books that pines and pines, despite their broody love interest being obviously smitten. But you still can’t stop yourself from being a chicken. You justify it by telling yourself that it's to protect your friendship and the group’s comfortable dynamic, but you know that deep down, you’re scared. You’re scared that Bradley only wants that one thing, while you’re nothing short of hopelessly in love with the man.

-

You wake up to the sound of your phone vibrating on your bedside table. You know it’s too early for your alarm and way too early for the delivery driver to be calling you, so you’re not surprised when you see Jake’s goofy contact photo lighting up your phone screen.

“Good morning, Hangman,” you say groggily.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he replies cheerfully. “Did I wake you up?”

You sigh and roll onto your back. “Yes.”

He chuckles. “Oops. How’s about I make it up to you with breakfast?”

You sit up quickly. “You’re already on your way here?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mutter, throwing your bed covers back.

“Just the usual?” he asks.

“Make it a double shot.”

You toss your phone onto your bed before hurrying into your ensuite, quickly stripping down as the shower heats up. You brush your teeth in the shower and scrub everything as quickly as you can before wrapping yourself in a towel and starting to pull all the bedding off your mattress. Just as you’ve finished shoving it all into your already overflowing hamper, your apartment intercom buzzes.

You hitch your towel higher as you step out of your room and press the button on the intercom to unlock the lobby door. There’s an affirmative beep and a click, and then you walk toward the front door and double check that your towel is covering you.

As soon as you hear footsteps, you pull the door open with a scowl. “Since when did I tell you to get here at the ass crack of dawn?”

His green eyes widen as he takes you in, that signature smirk painting his features. “I thought it would be good to get an early start, but this”- he nods at you -“is an unexpected bonus.”

You roll your eyes and step aside, allowing him in. He stops at your kitchen bench and places the cup tray of two coffees down alongside a paper bag filled with deliciously greasy smelling breakfast.

“Give me five minutes,” you say, before walking back into your bedroom.

You quickly change into a pair of exercise tights and an oversized shirt – one that you’re not sure even belongs to you – before fixing your hair and doing a very quick version of your morning skincare routine. When you reemerge into the main area of your open-plan apartment, Jake is seated on the lounge with your breakfast laid out across the coffee table.

You flop beside him and take a hashbrown. “So, what’s the plan?”

He turns to you with a frown. “Why do I have to come up with a plan?”

“I wouldn’t need your help if I had a plan, would I?”

He chuckles softly. “I guess not.”

You spend the next five minutes inhaling your breakfast while Jake asks a few logistical questions. Once you're both finished eating and quietly sipping on your coffees, he pushes himself off the lounge and walks toward your bedroom.

He pauses at the door. “Can I go in?”

You nod, and the door squeaks as he nudges it open. He takes one step in and stops, cocking his head thoughtfully before continuing in. He assesses the area and walks further in, at which point you decide to join him. He’s standing on the opposite side of your bed when you get there, and he’s wearing the type of shit-eating grin that you know comes with some sort of teasing or offensive remark.

“So,” he says, “this is where you touch yourself and fantasise about Rooster every night.”

Your stomach drops and you splutter against the lid of your coffee cup, spraying half a mouthful of it across the room. You can feel your face turning red as you cough, but you know it isn’t just the lack of oxygen to blame.

Jake gasps, laughter bubbling from his lips as he rushes around the bed to you. “I’m so sorry,” he says between giggles. “Are you okay?”

You continue to cough, holding a hand against your chest as you try to blink back the tears in your eyes. It takes almost a minute for you to compose yourself, but Jake takes even longer to quell his laughter.

He sighs loudly and wipes the corner of his eye while you turn to him with a scowl. “Who told you?”

He bats his eyes innocently. “Told me what?”

You hesitate, your eyes narrowed as your mind races to send the right words to your lips. “That I might have a small crush on Rooster.”

He snorts a laugh. “No one had to tell me anything. Any idiot who spends enough time with the two of you can clearly see that you’re obsessed with each other.”

“What? No.” Your frown indignantly. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Please.” He rolls his eyes, still chuckling. “I can practically see you cataloguing your spank bank every time you stare at him.”

Your eyes grow wide and your skin burns. You have to look away from him to stop yourself from smacking that smug smile right off his face.

“You know what,” you say, sparing him only a glance. “I don’t think I want to have this conversation with you, so can we please get back to the bed.”

He sighs wistfully. “If only Rooster heard you say that to me. He’d be ropable.”

You roll your eyes and take another sip from your coffee, ready to turn away from him when realisation hits you. “Wait. Is that why you’re always flirting with me, just to piss off Bradley?”

He shrugs, but his smile is sheepish. “I flirt with you because you’re gorgeous, but annoying Rooster is a small plus.”

“You are unbelievable.” You turn on your heel and walk back out of your room, finding your phone on the couch to check if there are any updates on the delivery of your new furniture.

“Hang on a minute.” He follows you into the living space. “I could help you, you know?”

You scoff. “With what? Moving my new bed in? Because that is why you’re here. Not to make me feel shitty about some stupid, unrequited crush that is apparently pretty fucking obvious.”

He rolls his lips to hold back another laugh. “I could help you make a move,” he clarifies. “Because I’ll tell you this, it is not unrequited. Rooster is as crazy about you, as you are him.”

Your heart stutters, but your walls stay up. “How do you know?”

“Just believe me,” he says. “That man’s right forearm is thicker than his left because of you.”

You frown and cock your head, processing his words until the meaning hits you and your mouth pops open.

“Anyway.” He claps his hands and rubs his palms together. “Let’s get this old mattress out of here and start pulling apart the bedframe. I’ll give you some advice while we work.”

For the next few hours, you let Jake tell you what to do. You hold things, you move furniture, you unscrew things, and you listen to his surprisingly sound advice on what to do about Bradley. The more he speaks, the more confident you feel, because something about Jake’s charisma is infectious. You know you might not feel the same when face to face with Bradley’s big brown eyes and pretty smile, but it at least feels good to talk to someone about it. Even if that someone gags every time you start swooning.

- Bradley -

Today is hot, almost too hot. Bradley has pushed his body to the limit before, it’s basically in his job description, but today feels different. He feels sick. His flight suit is too heavy and his muscles are shaking. His stomach is twisting and gurgling with every sharp move, and his head is spinning.

Bradley is only in the sky – flying like a rookie – for an hour before Maverick grounds him, giving him a brutal workout to do while the rest of the squad finish their drills. Even Hondo has taken shelter in the hangar, watching Bradley complete his exercises from afar with a damp towel wrapped around the back of his neck.

The concrete is hot, and Bradley is pretty sure he’s getting second-degree burns on his palms as he pushes himself up into his twenty-fourth burpee. His flight suit is tied around his waist, and he can feel an excess of sweat gathering in the bunched-up material there. His dog tags are jingling as he jumps up and down, occasionally smacking him in the face when his moves are too jerky.

“That’s enough,” Hondo calls out. “Have a break. Drink some water.”

Bradley stops and swipes the back of his hand across his forehead. He can see the squad getting ready to land now, so it must be time for lunch. He waits for them inside the hangar, his heart beating loudly in his chest even after twenty minutes of standing still. Eventually, the group stroll in and head toward the lockers, grabbing their personal items before going to the mess hall.

Bradley finds a seat while everyone else continues to get food. He’s not sure his stomach can handle anything right now, even his water bottle remains untouched. He pulls his phone out and brings up the group chat that has five new messages.

His insides twist at the sight of Jake in your apartment. It’s not like he hasn’t been there before, but he’s never been there alone with you. Bradley clamps his teeth together and wills that sick feeling in his gut to fuck off. This isn’t the time nor the place to vomit about the fact that the girl he likes is spending the day with one of the most charming men he knows.

“You look pale,” Bob says as he puts his tray down on the table.

“But also kind of red,” Natasha adds, a frown pinching her brows. “You look like you’re trying not to hurl.”

Bradley swallows hard and sits up straighter. “I’m fine, just a little wrung out from the heat.”

The rest of the squad join the table and conversation flows easily. A couple of them reply to you in the group chat, but Bradley doesn’t want to know anything else about what’s going on, so he lets his phone buzz face down on the table. He stares straight ahead at the space between Bob and Natasha’s heads, zoning out and imagining a much worse scenario than what is actually happening at your apartment.

He pictures you both sweating and giggling together, bumping into each other as you move and assemble furniture. Then he sees you both on the new mattress, flopping down exhaustedly after finally sliding it onto the new bedframe. You’d stop giggling with a sigh before turning to face one another, locking eyes, expressions turning serious as Jake’s hand comes up to caress your cheek. You would roll onto your side to get closer to him, and he’d only have to move an inch toward you to press his lips against yours. That kiss would unlock something in you, igniting your attraction to this man and making you climb on top of him. Clothes would be torn off, teeth and tongues clashing, and the bed would quickly be broken in.

“Rooster.” Natasha snaps her fingers in front of Bradley’s face.

He blinks a couple of times before refocusing on the woman in front of him. “Huh?”

“Jesus Christ, dude,” she says. “What is wrong with you today?”

Bradley looks to his left and right before spotting the rest of the squad making their way out of the mess hall. He jumps up from his chair. “Shit, that went quick.”

“Well, you were off with the fairies the whole time.”

He tries not to look her in the eye despite her intense stare. The journey back to the hangar is silent, but he can tell Natasha is studying him, scrutinising his expression until they both approach the rest of the group waiting with Maverick.

Mav takes the floor and announces that today is the perfect day to test limits. He starts explaining the workout that he has planned for the squad, because they may have to face extreme heat on their next assignment, and it’s important to be prepared. Everyone groans in protest, even Hondo, but Mav ignores it. He’s almost excited to torture his lieutenants.

An hour later, everyone is absolutely dripping with sweat. All flight suits are at least half off, some discarded entirely as the squad run, jump, and swerve through the makeshift fitness course Mav set up. It feels more like torture than conditioning, but no one has the energy to even speak up.

“Alright,” Mav calls out. “That’s enough. Take a break, have some water, then come inside and take a seat.”

They all slowly drag themselves toward Hondo, who is handing out towels and cold bottles of water. None of them can muster a single word, they all just huff and puff and groan when they wipe their skin with the wet towels. Bradley is the last to approach Hondo, his gaze fixed on the outstretched water bottle as he wonders when the last time it was that he had a drink.

“Rooster.” Hondo takes a step toward the lieutenant. “Are you alright?”

Bradley blinks slowly, looking up as one Hondo turns into two. His surroundings blur and his limbs start to tingle. His head feels heavy and his stomach sinks, his eyes fluttering shut as his body goes limp.

- You -

“Harder,” Jake grunts. “Push harder.”

You let out a puff of air before tensing your muscles and shoving as hard as you can. The mattress slides along the carpet slowly, making your blood boil with frustration. “Why is this thing so fucking heavy?”

Jake chuckles. “I just assumed you bought an extra sturdy one so you and Rooster can fuck as hard as- woah!”

You push with all your strength, sliding the mattress into an unsuspecting Jake. He laughs as he rights himself and guides the mattress further into your room.

“If I knew that annoying you would give you super strength, I would have started earlier,” he says, leaning around the mattress to show you his cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes. “You’ve been annoying me all day.”

“It’s called bonding.”

“Whatever, just get this thing on the frame.”

After a short argument on how you should manoeuvre the mattress, and a string of cuss words as you heave the thing into place, you finally manage to get the mattress sitting snuggly on the new bedframe. You both fall onto it immediately, facing the ceiling as you work to catch your breath.

“Fuck me,” you sigh.

Jake snorts. “I would, but I think Rooster might flay me alive.”

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time today. “I wasn’t offering, and I’m still on the fence about believing you, so stop it with the constant remarks.”

He rolls onto his stomach, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Then let’s have sex and see what happens?”

You huff out a half-assed laugh as you sit up. “Like I said, Hangman; I wasn’t offering.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. We shouldn’t play with Rooster’s feelings like that.” He rolls onto his back again and blinks slowly at the ceiling.

It makes you feel better to see a small sign of exhaustion from him, because for most of the day, you’ve been wrecked while Jake has been running off some sort of endless energy reserve. He’s like the human personification of a border collie, a little too keen and full of bounce, and you can definitely see him tearing the lounge apart if he’s bored and locked inside.

You open your mouth to tell him how he reminds you of a herding dog when the sound of your phone’s ringtone cuts you off. You frown, wondering who it could be as you rush out of your room to get it off the kitchen bench.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Mariam. I’m calling from the Primary Health Clinic on North Island Naval Air Station. I need to speak with about Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

Your stomach sinks so fast and so hard, you feel like it might have fallen right out of your arse. “Is he okay?”

“He’s in our care this afternoon due to a minor incident, and while he’s doing just fine, we cannot permit him to drive himself home. Would you be able to come pick him up?”

You rush over to the coffee table and pick up your car keys. “Of course.”

“That’s great,” the woman replies, her tone calm and even. “I’ll text our address to this number. Do you require any further assistance locating the clinic?”

“No, that should be fine.” You prop your sunglasses on top of your head. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. We’ll see you soon.”

You pull the phone away from your ear as you hurry back into your room. Jake is sitting up now, his brows furrowed and eyes wide with curiosity. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. Something happened to Bradley and now he’s at some health clinic or something.” You’re not surprised by the panic in your voice, if only a little embarrassed. The woman said he’s fine. The last thing you need to do right now is panic.

Jake stands up and rounds the bed quickly, putting a hand on each of your shoulders. “Don’t freak out, I’m sure he’s okay. He’s at the clinic, not the hospital, so he’s probably just tripped on his own shoelaces or something.”

You let out a breathy laugh as you search Jake’s face for any hint of worry. He doesn’t seem concerned, so you let yourself relax and picture Bradley sitting sheepishly in a hospital bed with nothing more than a papercut.

“They said he can’t drive, so I have to go pick him up.”

Jake nods. “You go. I’ll stay here and clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go get your damsel in distress.”

You hesitate for a second before throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. “Thank you.”

He hugs you back with a chuckle before you pull away and practically run out of your apartment. You don’t slow down for anything; you even take the stairs instead of the elevator because you can’t stand still for even a second. You try not to drive like a maniac, but it’s hard not to as your mind swirls with the possibilities of Bradley’s accident.

In less than fifteen minutes, you’re flashing your identification at the front gate and waiting impatiently for them to raise the boom gate. You swerve into the visitor’s parking lot and jump out of your car, legging it toward the health clinic where your phone’s map tells you to go. It only takes a few minutes for you to get there, and you stop a few feet from the door, taking a moment to control your breathing.

The air is thick and the sun blistering. You’re sweating more than you have all day, since you've spent most of the day inside your airconditioned apartment. If Bradley isn’t really hurt, you’re going to actually hurt him for making you worry this much and run in this heat.

Once your breathing feels more regular, you grab the stainless-steel handle and push the door open. The small reception space is painted blue and white, with a couple of plastic chairs on one side and a magazine rack beside a water bubbler on the other. The blonde woman behind the desk peeks up at you through the Perspex shield surrounding her space.

“Good afternoon.”

“Hi.” You step forward. “I got a call about Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

To the right of her desk is a hallway leading further into the building. Voices and footsteps echo off the blue walls, and despite the desolate reception area, it seems like the rest of the clinic is rather busy.

“Yes, that was me.” She smiles. “I’ll just get you to fill this out so we can start his discharge, then I’ll take you through.”

You take the clipboard from her and sit in one of the plastic chairs. You barely read the form, skimming quickly over it before answering the few questions and signing your name at the bottom. After you hand it back it to her, you walk over to the water bubbler and fill up a small plastic cup. You drain it three times before she waves you over and starts walking down the hall.

The noises get louder the further you delve into the building, and you quickly realise that this place is something of a mini hospital for minor emergencies to help keep the actual ER from being overrun. The hallway eventually opens up into a larger waiting area with lemon-coloured walls and bigger chairs occupied by sickly officers. One of them is holding a bloody gauze pressed to the palm of his hand, and two others are paper white and dripping with sweat.

“Heatstroke,” the blonde woman says over her shoulder. “We’ve had so many of them today, but your husband was by far the worst.”

You choke on your breath and trip on nothing as you follow her. “M-My what?”

“Oh, sorry.” She turns to her left at the end of the hall. “I just saw you were listed as Lieutenant Bradshaw’s ‘partner’ and assumed. It’s force of habit. I forget that a lot of couples don’t bother with marriage these days.”

Your mind struggles to catch up, half of it rejoicing about the fact that someone thinks Bradley is your husband, and the other half wondering why the fuck he would list you as his partner. Before you can come up with the words to correct the woman, she stops.

“Just in here.” She pushes the door open a small way. “I’ll get his papers sorted and let you know as soon as he can leave.”

You nod, still speechless, and she walks away. You stand still for a moment, your hand on the door and heart racing as you take one deep breath and push.

The room is small, with powder blue walls and the same white linoleum as the rest of the clinic. There’s a stool and tall portable desk in one corner, and one of those plastic waiting room chairs in the other. In the middle of the room is a hospital bed, but there’s no guard rails or bedding, and it's folded up so the sheepish lieutenant occupying it is sitting up straight.

“Hey,” you say, your lips twitching as you hold back a smirk.

He’s hooked up to an intravenous device that has a long tube connected to a bag of clear liquid. His face is flushed and the hair at his neck damp, but otherwise, he looks just as delicious as usual.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

You close the door behind you before approaching the bed. “How are you?”

He shuffles on the crinkly mattress, making room for you to sit. “Never been better.”

"Want to tell me what happened?” you ask as you sit at the foot of the bed.

He rubs the back of his neck, the pink in his cheeks deepening. “Well, it’s hot day, and I forgot to drink water, so I passed out.”

You lose the battle with your maturity and let out a soft laugh. Something about Bradley looking so defeated in a hospital bed amuses you more than it should. That combined with the relief that he isn’t seriously hurt means that you can’t control the elated laughter forcing its way through your lips.

You cover your mouth to try and stop the noise. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I was just really worried and now I’m really relieved.”

He rolls his eyes despite the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad my stupidity amuses you.”

“Do the others have a video of you fainting?”

He nudges your thigh with his socked foot. “Even if they do, you’re not seeing it.”

You laugh quietly for another minute, letting your eyes roam is perfectly healthy and incredibly firm body until it sinks in that he is okay. “I’m glad you’re not seriously hurt.”

“Me too. That would have been embarrassing.”

Your mouth pops open to ask him another question, but the thought is quickly usurped by another. The front reception area had been completely empty despite the fact that there are other patients here. You’re the only civilian here, the only emergency contact for an injured officer, and the injured officer in front of you is looking a hell of a lot better than some of the others you’d walked past.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Did you ask them to call your emergency contact?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, where are the others?” you ask. “Why don’t the guys out there have their parents or partners here to pick them up?”

He shrugs. “They’re probably going to get patched up and sent back to their squads.”

“Exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. “So, why am I here?”

He shifts nervously, the mattress crinkling beneath his weight. “They said I can’t drive myself home.”

“And you didn’t think to ask one of the other six friends you have that are already on base to drive you home?”

His lips part but no words come out. You can see him struggling, wracking his brain for any sort of excuse, but the longer it takes, the surer you are of the answer to your next question.

“Bradley.”

He looks at you and rolls his lips, his skin turning pink from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Did you tell them to call me so I wouldn’t be alone with Hangman anymore?”

His eyes widen and his mouth pops open, but so does the door to the room. The same blonde woman as before walks in with a nurse close behind.

“Alright, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” she says, clipboard in hand. “You’re just about free to go.”

You quickly hop off the bed as the nurse approaches, pressing yourself against the wall while she removes Bradley’s IV and check his temperature one last time. She gives him what you assume is not the first lecture about staying safe in the heat before declaring him well enough for discharge. The blonde woman then steps forward and asks him to sign a few forms on her clipboard.

“Is that everything?” he asks.

“Almost.” She takes the clipboard from him and flips to the last form before turning to you. “I just need one more signature from you.”

You nod and take the outstretched pen. “Just here?”

“Yep. Just under your name,” she says, before giggling.

You pause mid-signature, turning to her curiously. Her smile vanishes instantly, and she takes half a step back, holding a hand over her mouth, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. That was so unprofessional,” she says. “It’s been a long day, and I just remembered that when he was brought in, he kept mumbling your name. I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise. I honestly thought it was really sweet.”

Bradley – who is now sitting on the edge of the bed – groans and drops his head into his hands. You have to press your lips together to suppress your laughter, but you can already feel it rattling in your chest. You sign your name quickly and hand the forms back to the woman, who apologises again before exiting the room.

Silence hangs thick and heavy between the two of you as Bradley laces his boots. You don’t speak, you’re not sure you can, so you simply watch him gather his things from across the room. When he’s finished, he finally looks at you with raised brows and flushed cheeks.

“Ready?”

You nod once, pressing your lips together to keep the giggles at bay. He turns toward the door, and you can swear you see his lips tip up into a smirk, but he walks too quickly into the corridor for you to be sure.

You follow him through the building, not the same way you had come in, but out through a different entrance that you assume is for bringing in the injured officers. The heat hits you the second you step out of the building, and you almost choke on the hot air, but you don’t have time to hesitate because Bradley is already forging across the small parking lot.

He glances over his shoulder, but his eyes don’t quite meet yours. “Where did you park?”

“The visitor’s parking near the front gate,” you reply.

He slows his steps and falls into pace beside you. His mouth pops open as a thought flashes across his face, but he closes it just as quickly, rolling his lips and getting lost in his thoughts again.

You decide to help him out. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He clears his throat, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. “Talk about what?”

“Oh, Bradley,” you sigh, a smirk on your lips. “There are so many things to talk about, but I thought I’d be polite and let you choose.”

His resolve cracks and a smile splits across his face. His cheeks are still bright red, and thanks to the blistering sun, every inch of his exposed skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t help but watch the column of his throat as he chuckles, his Adam’s apple moving in the most delicious way. It’s probably not healthy how attracted you are to this man.

“I’d barely been awake for five minutes when they asked me who they should call,” he says. “I was still a little out of it.”

“Right.” You nod slowly. “And because you’d just been dreaming about me, I was the first thing that popped into your head.”

He sighs and tips his head back, squinting up at the clear blue sky. “This has to be the most embarrassing day of my life.”

You bite your lip to hold back more laughter, almost stumbling as you come to a halt at the curb. Instinctively, Bradley grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours, keeping you steady as he checks the street each way for traffic. Little sparks of lightning rocket up your forearm and across your chest, zapping your heart and kicking it into overdrive.

You let him guide you across the street, expecting him to let go once you’re safely on the other side, but he doesn’t. The butterflies in your stomach flap to life, but you refuse to let your nerves get the better of you. You have too many questions you need answered right now.

You clear your throat, peaking up at him from the corner of your eye. “So, just so we’re clear, calling me had nothing to do with getting me away from Hangman?”

He keeps his gaze fixed ahead. “Of course not.”

“Okay, that’s good.”

You resist the urge to smile as you wait for him to take the bait. It takes a few minutes, and you’ve reached your car by the time you notice his brows scrunch into a frown.

“Wait, what do you mean that’s good?”

You walk around the front of the car toward the driver’s side. “I don’t know, I just felt different today. You know? Like, being alone with Jake was nice.”

His frown turns into a scowl. “It’s Jake now?”

You roll your eyes, being careful not to appear too amused as you play with fire. “Yes, and Jake is really sweet. He’s funny too, and really smart and… well, he’s hot.”

Bradley takes half a step back from the passenger door. “So, you like Hangman now?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

His eyes flick down to his boots, his mouth popping open as if he’s going to argue, but no words come out. His lips clamp shut and the muscles in his jaw jump as he clenches his teeth.

“Do you have a problem with that?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently.

When he looks back up, his glare is lethal. The warm honey-brown eyes you often love to stare into are almost completely black beneath his furrowed brows. “Do I have a problem with that?”

You roll your lips and nod, keeping your eyes as wide and innocent as you can while watching him take long strides around the front of the car. Your heart thunders in your chest, making your pulse thump loudly in your ears as he walks right up to you.

He towers over you, his body barely inches from yours. “You know damn well I have a problem with that.”

You look up at him through your lashes, finally letting your lips curl up into a smirk. “Why?”

His hands grab your hips and turn your body so your backside is pressed against the driver’s side door. “You know damn well why.” He presses his body against yours and moves his hands to lean on the car either side of your shoulders, trapping you.

Your head spins and you struggle to breath, overwhelmed by every inch of him that is pressed against you. “Why?” you ask again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He groans and pushes his hips harder into yours before leaning down and catching your lips with his. Your hands grip the sides of his shirt and pull, as if he isn’t already crushing himself against you. When you feel him slide a leg between yours, you gasp, and he takes the chance to push his tongue past your parted lips. You grind down on his thigh and a let out a soft whimper. You can feel him grin against your mouth before lifting his knee a little higher between your legs.

The rest of the world melts away as you grind and moan against each other, completely lost in the feelings you’ve stamped down for so long. Only when you feel your car door begin to bend behind you do you reluctantly put a hand on his chest and push him back.

He frowns as he steps back, looking adorable with lust-blown eyes and puffy red lips. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re about to put a me-sized dent in my car door,” you reply with a soft laugh.

“Oh.” His shoulders relax and he steps back toward you, his hands landing on your hips. “So, you were joking about Hangman, right?”

You roll your eyes, resting your hands on his chest. “Obviously.”

“Good.”

You give him a small smile before letting your eyes drop, panic seeping into your bones as your usual doubts begin to infect your thoughts. Did he only kiss you because he was jealous? Does he want more than friendship, or just a few extra benefits?

“Hey.” He crooks a finger beneath your chin to tilt your head up. “Do you want to know why I’d have a problem if you really did like Hangman?”

You nod as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down nervously.

“Because then it would’ve been too late for me to tell you that I’m in love you.”

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest. “In love with me?”

His cheeks go from pink to red and he quickly averts his eyes away from yours. “Unless you don’t feel the same, then I’m just in love with you like a friend.”

You roll your eyes again and softly smack his chest. “Don’t be stupid, of course I’m in love with you. I thought it was pretty fucking obvious.”

His lips split into a grin before he dips back down and kisses you again. “Thank God for that,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle as he trails his lips across your cheek, along your jaw, and down your neck. “As much as I love this,” you say, “I would also really love to get out of the heat.”

“Good idea.” He steps back and pulls your body with his, turning a little to the side as leans toward the car and pulls the driver’s door open. “Let’s get back to your apartment and test out that new bed.”

Your knees almost wobble as you step toward the car and drop into the driver’s seat. Bradley is around the car in less than a few seconds, climbing into the passenger’s side and reaching one hand across the centre console to grab your leg.

“Let’s just hope Hangman hasn’t decided to take a nap,” you say as you begin pulling out of the parking spot.

Bradley turns to you with raised brows. “He’s still at your apartment?”

You nod. “He offered to clean up when I left.”

“What if he refuses to leave?”

You shrug one shoulder, your lips tipping up into a smirk. “Then he can join in.”

Bradley’s fingers squeeze hard around your thigh. “Not a fucking chance.”

You giggle when you glance at his stormy expression, but you’d be lying if you said his jealousy wasn’t a bit of a turn on. “You’re not into wife-swapping?” you ask.

He tilts his head, clearly confused. “Wife?”

“Well, yeah. I’m your partner, right? Your emergency contact partner.”

It takes him a few seconds to realise what you mean, but once he does, he drops his head into both hands and sighs loudly. “They told you that?”

You almost feel bad for laughing at him again, but you can’t help it. “The woman called you my husband when I first got there.”

When he looks back up, you’re positive you’ve never seen a more gorgeous boy in the world. His cheeks are bright pink, his honey-brown eyes are sparkling, and he’s grinning so wide you can’t help but grin back at him. “Well, they didn’t really have an option for ‘best friend who I really want to bang and eventually marry one day’.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you’re pretty sure your heart stops. “Marry?”

He turns his attention out the windscreen, still smiling, and his hand returns to its place on your thigh as he says more to himself than you, “One day soon hopefully.”

END.

[forever-rogue]

Trouble

AN | Hello, I'm here to fix it. It never happened. Joel is back in Jackson. Enjoy💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Canon typical injury

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were covered in dirt, blood, and gunk but none of that mattered in the moment. What mattered was that no matter how bruised and worn down you felt, you were alive. You had survived, Jackson had survived…everything would be okay.

Dragging yourself up off the ground, you spotted Tommy and Maria up ahead. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you slowly made your way towards them, helping any stragglers along your way. It was going to take a while to recover from this disaster, but at least you knew things would get better. And, if anything, you now had more knowledge on the enemy and their…abilities for lack of a better word.

Brushing some blood and dirt off your face, you spotted Ellie getting off her horse just up ahead. Thank fuck.

They were all okay. Everything was fine. Ellie, Jesse, Dina, and Joel were back. 

You ran as fast as you could which, given the state you were in wasn't very fast, ready to make your way to them. It was more of a limping skip as you made your way over.

“Tommy! Ellie!” You shouted over the wind, waving your arm to get their attention. When they heard you and finally turned around, you were met with a sea of grim faces. Your stomach dropped; they should be happy. If not happy, at least not so grim. Right? When you finally got to them, you realized that you didn’t see Joel. You immediately knew something was very wrong, “where's Joel?”

Ellie opened and closed her mouth a few times, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Where's Joel?” you asked again, swallowing the lump in your throat. You turned to Tommy and saw that the look on his face mirrored the one on Ellie's. In fact, no one looked happy, “Tommy. Where's Joel?”

“Listen-” 

“Where is he!?” You demand again, tears welling up in your own eyes. Tommy put his hand on your shoulder and held onto it firmly, “T-Tommy. Where is he?”

“He's at Kat's,” he finally said, his own voice shaking as he tried to keep it together, “he's…he's not doing well.”

You choked out a sob before turning on your heel and running towards Kat's house. Your own body was screaming in pain but none of that mattered in the moment. All you could think about was getting to Joel. That was the only thing that mattered. 

You burst through the front door of the house, lungs on fire as you headed towards the stairs. You took a moment to catch your breath, clutching the stitch in your side, “Kat? Kat!”

You started up the stairs, Kat meeting you at the top with a grim expression on her face. She was a kind, older woman that always had a way of making you feel better no matter the circumstances. She was a good doctor.

She took your face in her hands before sighing softly and pulling you in for a hug. You clutched onto her tightly, fearful for what she was going to say to you. When you pulled apart, she brushed some dirt off your clothes, “I'm going to have a look at you next.”

“There's other people that need your help more than I do,” you insisted, “where's Joel? I-I need to see him. Please.”

“Look,” she gave your hand a squeeze, “he's lucky to be alive. I hate to say that, I do. But he's lucky Ellie and Jesse found him when they did.”

“What happened?” You were reeling from her words; the idea of losing Joel was unbearable, “tell me. Please.”

“Seems like some people he made enemies of a long time back found him,” she sighed, “and they had some sort of vendetta against him.”

You couldn't wait any longer and gently pushed past her and into the room where you knew he'd be. As soon as you opened the door, you stopped in your tracks when you found him on the bed. You let out a shaky breath as you dropped to your knees by his side, “oh my god. Joel.”

“He can't hear you,” Kat followed in after you, grim look on her face, “he's out. He's gonna be out for a while.”

“What did they do to him?” His face was bruised and there were remnants of dried blood all over him. He looked so pale that it made your stomach drop. It took you a moment of notice that his leg was completely bandaged up.

“Shot in the side, his leg was broken badly. Ellie said…there was a girl beating him with a golf club before resorting to using her fists. He's got some broken ribs and lost a lot of blood. He's going to be a while before he's up and able to get, let alone get around.”

“But he'll-”

“There's no swelling in his brain and his lungs sound clear. He's past the absolute worst but he's not out of the woods just yet,” you hated that she wouldn't just confirm that he'd make it, “but its Joel. You know he's not going to give up fighting.”

“What can I do?” You asked, voice cracking as tears blurred your vision, “anything. Whatever it takes.”

“There's not much you can do right now. Its just going to take time,” she whispered, “take care of yourself. And the others. Things will be alright.”

“Will they?” You plopped onto the ground and reached for his hand; it was cold and stiff, “I can't…I can't lose him. I just can't.”

“We'll do everything we can do,” she promised, “we just have to be patient.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Here,” Tommy's voice pulled you of your stupor as he walked in and held a hot cup of tea out to you, “our mama used to say that there wasn't anything a cup of tea couldn't fix.”

“Thanks,” you clutched the warm mug in your cold, tired hands as you stared at the golden liquid. You stretched, your body tired and aching from the stiff wooden chair that had basically become your second home. You'd been camped out by his side, refusing to move unless absolutely necessary. You’d cleaned him up as best as you could but he still looked so…fragile. Broken.

“You can leave you know,” he said as you looked at him incredulously, “you can rest and take time for yourself. You ain't going to be helping anyone by not making sure you're okay.”

“I don't want to leave him,” you sighed, looking Joel over. It had been almost two weeks, and while he seemed to be healing, he still wasn't up and conscious, “what if he wakes up and I'm not here? O-or something happens?”

Tommy let out a low sigh as he looked forlornly at his older brother, “I keep thinking the same thing. But you know if anything happens, someone will get you right away.”

“Yeah,” you sipped the warm liquid and closed your eyes for a moment. You knew this was just hard for him and Ellie, “what happened to her? The girl?”

“She got away,” he gritted his teeth, “for now. We'll find her.”

“I keep thinking I want to go out there and kill her myself,” you whispered, reaching over and gently brushing a rogue lock of hair out of Joel's face, “that I want her to suffer as much as he did, or worse.”

“But…”

“Nothing excuses what she did,” you whispered, “but I can't imagine doing that to another living being. It makes us no better than them. But at the time I don't know if I care about that.”

“Its hard,” he agreed.

“It is,” you took his hand in yours, “I don't know what to do. For now, I just want him to be okay.”

“He's a stubborn old fool. He's not going to leave us that easily.”

“Promise?” Your voice was quiet and you weren't even sure you'd intended for him to hear it. Tommy nodded as offered him a small smile in return, “you better hurry up and get better soon, old man. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss your grumpy old face.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Time seemed slower than it ever did before as you remained by Joel's side. A few more days had passed and as much as you wanted to remain hopeful, you had to admit it was hard to. While his pallor returned and the dark bruising faded to green and yellow, he hadn't woken up. You never thought you could miss someone so much when they were right next to you. 

“You know,” you had moved onto the bed, laying on the edge to be close to him without hurting him further, “I remember when we first met after I got here. It was kind of like this then too, except I wasn't hurt as bad. One of the first things you said to me was that you knew I was going to be a pain in your ass. Turns out you were right, but I could say the same about you.”

The room was silent, filled only with the combined sounds of your soft breathing. You tentatively reached out a hand and traced your fingertips along his side, barely a ghost of a touch.

“I miss you, you know,” you continued, “I always miss you when you're gone, even if its only a few hours, but this is so much worse. Its like you're right here but a million miles away. I want you to come back to me soon. We're all waiting for you. Ellie misses you so much too. She saved you, you know. She never hated you, which I think you know deep down. She loves you, you'll always be her Joel. I love you. So much.”

You laid there until you fell asleep, only moonlight filtering in. You weren't sure how much long your heart could handle this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was going on three weeks and you were still a wreck as much as the first day. You were growing impatient and tired and angry, and a million other emotions.

“You know I hate to ask you to leave but can you give Maria a hand with some stuff at the stables?” You looked at Tommy and glanced at Joel before nodding. He hadn't woken up yet, and at this you weren't sure when he would. It was probably fine to be gone for a few hours.

“Of course,” you stood up, giving Joel one last look before heading out. You'd be back soon enough.

It was a few hours of some back breaking labor that you were finally able to take a moment to breathe. There was still so much left to do to rebuild Jackson, and as reluctant as you had been to leave Joel, you were happy for the work that had taken all of your attention.

You heard your name being shouted from the distance and looked over to Benji running towards you with Tommy running after him. You exchanged a look with Maria and bent down to scoop him up in your arms.

“Hey kiddo, what's got you so excited?” 

“Uncle Joel,” he started simply, a big gap toothed smile on his face. Your heart stopped for a moment as you looked over to Tommy, who had managed to catch up.

“Tommy?” You tried to keep the excitement out of your face, “is he…?”

“He's awake,” he confirmed, “just woke up.”

“Oh my god,” you gently set him down and ran off without another word. You figured they'd understand.

You burst into the house and ran upstairs and into his room, chest heaving from the exertion. Kat raised an eyebrow at you but there was a smile pulling on the corners of her mouth, “just in time.”

“Joel?” Kat stepped out of the way and slipped out of the room to give the two of you some privacy.

And there he was; still looking worse for the wear but sat up in the bed and fully conscious. It might have been the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

“Hey trouble,” his voice was dry and raspy but hearing him immediately brought tears to your eyes.

“Joel,” you took a few tentative steps towards him, part of you refusing to believe this was real. He moved his hand to reach out for you, “you're…you're…I thought I was going to lose you.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily,” his laugh turned into a cough and you handed him the glass of water that was by his bedside.

“Take it easy old man,” you joked through your tears, finally happy ones, as you sat next to him on the bed, “don't need you to hurt yourself now.”

He smiled at you, putting his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “you were here. The whole time.”

“Where else would I be?” You sniffled as he reached up and wiped your tears away. You put your hand on top of his and held it gently against your cheek.

“Preferably out living life,” he stroked his thumb over your skin, “not worrying about me.”

You studied him, taking in the brown eyes you'd missed so much. He was definitely far from recovered but he was here and he was alive. That was enough for now.

You gently took his hand off your face and took his face in your hands. You frowned at the bruising that was lingering but you knew it'd be gone soon enough. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, kissing him as softly and tenderly as possible. With a relieved sigh, you touched your forehead against his, “I don't think I could ever stay away.”

“You know I'm never going to leave you,” he whispered as you nodded.

“I love you,” you promised, “even if you are a stubborn grump.”

“I love you too, trouble,” he shifted over gently before patting the same next to him, “c'mere.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” he scoffed and you kicked off your boots before getting into the bed next to him, slowly to make sure you didn't cause him any pain. You laid down and rested your head on his good leg, letting out a slow, deep breath. Joel started gently playing your hair, causing tingles to shoot through your entire body. You hadn't realized how much you missed his touch, “you should lie down too. You need the rest.”

“So do you,” he insisted, grinning as you yawned, “you've been here the whole time watching me, let me take care of you.”

“Only if you lie down with me and we both stay here for a while,” you insisted, turning your face to look up at him.

“I suppose,” he shifted with a grimace but was able to get himself comfortable next to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, “you alright?”

“Better than I have been in weeks,” you turned so you were facing him, “I was scared that we'd never get to do this again. That I'd never see you again. That you would be gone…”

“Oh trouble,” he whispered, “that's never going to happen. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, “I'm going to hold you to that, Miller.”

“I'd expect nothing less, trouble.”

[consultingfujoshi]

having some barely formed thoughts about the three severed women we know of (excluding o&d) and how they're all sort of experiencing their own misogynist hellscape and how severance not only exacerbates the existing struggles of women but reduces those women down to nothing but their suffering

gabby's innie exists purely to gestate and give birth to children and then is switched off again and never gets to raise or even meet her child until her husband decides it's time for the next one. episode 7 suggests gabby is not the only woman who has done this to herself. how many female innies exist just to be a walking baby incubator?

gemma is quite literally in hell. dozens of versions of her are being subjected to physical or psychological torture at the hands of the same white guy, at least one of which is in an endless performance of housewifery, her body given over to the hands of strangers, and she has to willingly walk into each room knowing anything could be happening to her in there and she will never know what, only that her alternate selves have literally never known anything except suffering. you did it to yourself, you asked for this.

and even when she tries to free herself she is immediately sent back by one of these innies who literally does not know what is going on and why she's here, and doesn’t know enough to question what she's being told. these women she becomes do not have the tools, the knowledge or agency, to fight back. if you'd known better, you'd have stopped it. why didn't you stop it? why weren't you smarter about it? why weren't you more careful?

tell me you love me before you go, sweetheart

and helly. she's more complicated but there's really something to be said about helena, a woman that by all accounts should see her as a sister, and uses that very idea to propagandise herself and inflate her own status, but in reality does not even see helly as human - she is constantly at the mercy of a woman far more affluent and powerful than herself who feigns care for her to the masses whilst happily subjecting her to torture. and then without that support from another woman, without that sense of solidarity, she seeks refuge in the arms of a man who can somewhat understand what she's going through because that feels like her only option, to gain approval or social standing through a man, but even that is hollow and it is soured by the very woman she is at the mercy of competing with her for that same man. she has been forced to place all her bets on the love of a man, like that'll prove she's real and worth something, and even that she can't have for herself

severance is used in all of these cases as a means of further dehumanising, objectifying, and reducing women down to their base biological functions and forces them to subject themselves to the whims of men. all in totally unique ways but all very real experiences that women go through every day, crytallised by having it quite literally be all they exist for. severance as just another tool to exert violence upon women

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

And you had – in the start. 

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

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

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

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

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

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

“Not interested in going viral?”

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

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

“What? I got something on my face?”

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

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

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

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

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

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

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

It drives Tyler insane. 

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

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

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

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

Until you learnt about the bet.

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

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

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

“Explain.”

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

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

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

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

“Which direction are we going, then?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing can change your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

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

“East or west, Owens?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, we will!”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

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

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

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

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

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

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

And then, it changed course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

Boone is quick to follow him.

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

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

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

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

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

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

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

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

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

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

He only hears silence.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tyler!” 

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

“You never call me by my first name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

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

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

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

“Embroidered it myself.”

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

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

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

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

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

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

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

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

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

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

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

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

It was something both of you were glad for.

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

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

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

You snort. “You, classy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kbwrites]

The Lord's Favorite CH.3

Synopsis: “And there you were, lying underneath the terrifying king, a man of immense power and ruthless intent, who would watch the world burn on a whim.”

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⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f! reader, nsfw, mild language, voyeurism, sukuna has two cocks, pure smut, gentle sukuna

⚝wc: 2.2k

⚝a/n: please the messages I’ve been getting from this series have been so unhinged?? I love it

“I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”

And you swear your brain ceases to function. When you regain awareness, you find yourself against the black silken sheets of Ryomen Sukuna’s enormous bed. The air is thick with the scent of incense, and the dim light from flickering candles casts long shadows across the room. And there you were, lying underneath the terrifying king, a man of immense power and ruthless intent, who would watch the world burn on a whim.

He looks down at you, two of his strong arms gripping your hips, the rough pads of his fingers digging painfully into your flesh. Your gaze flickers down to his body, taking in the sight of his rippling muscles, flexing with each subtle movement. His broad chest rises and falls at a steady pace, a stark contrast to the thunderous beating of your own heart. His crimson eyes hold a possessiveness, the gaze of a predator stalking its prey, intense and unyielding.

Ryomen Sukuna was alreadyterrifying fully clothed, but his naked form elicited a different fear in you altogether. Two thick cocks stood proud and eager. You try to take in every detail, thick veins running up the sides, flushed angry red tips dripping pre-cum down his monstrous shaft. Your breath catches in your throat, all of your saliva drying up as you force a swallow. His lips curl into a smile that sends shivers down your spine. He lowers his head to your ear, his breath searingly hot against your skin.

“You are aware I do not like waiting.” He growls.

“W… what would you like me to do My Lord?” The uncertainty in your tone is evident. He pulls back slightly, his gaze piercing through you with a mixture of disbelief and dark amusement.

Yes, you were younger than the other women in the castle, most of whom had come to serve after being widowed or hardened by life. But he assumed you’d had some knowledge. He had no need for concubines with no experience, anyone else who would dare enter his chambers without it would be swiftly dealt with. ‘Training pets’ was of no interest to him. But he couldn’t seem to ignore the way his cocks twitched at the thought of being the one who would ruin you. With a swift, almost effortless motion, his four powerful arms shift your position. Within the span of a heartbeat, he flips you over so that you find yourself straddling him, the change in position startlingly abrupt.

You’re momentarily paralyzed, a jolt of panic surging through you. What exactly were you supposed to do now? Theoretically, you knew what was expected, the steps that were supposed to follow, but… how?

༺═────────────═༻

On occasion, you found yourself wide awake during the night, the sound of the bed frame creaking and exaggerated moans muffled through the door connecting your room to Sukuna’s. Of course, Curiosity, that dangerous and ever-present impulse, got the better of you—and you innocently pressed your ear to the door. And of course, your eyes found their way to a convenient crack in the dark mahogany.

‘You should be ashamed, spying on your king’

You cursed yourself as you watched him. He laid on the bed, a woman—who you’d seen enter his chambers multiple times was bouncing up and down on his length. Crying out as her hands rested atop his broad chest. Two arms guided her hips and the other two rested behind his head. Her loud moans of pleasure, a stark contrast between his low grunts. Your hand clasps over your mouth, suppressing your gasps as your own hand reached under your nightgown.

The sounds of skin slapping, squelching, and the woman’s theatrical wails acted as cover to your own quiet moans. As it continues Ryomen's head suddenly turns to the side, eye locking directly onto the door. A menacing smile spreads across his lips. Your blood runs cold as you make direct eye contact with your lord.

You cease your movements, tiptoeing back to your bed. Squeezing your thighs together, to desperately cool the unbearable heat.

“My…. lord… what are you looking at?” She gasps in between thrusts. You only hear a slap before covering your ears and praying it was just coincidence his eyes fell on that part of the room.

And from his lack of mention, you thought you had gotten away with it.

༺═────────────═༻

And now you sit between his two muscular legs, the same way you saw that woman do. Staring down his two thick members. A shaky hand wraps around one, unable to grip him fully. A soft moan escapes his lips as you feel his cock twitch under your touch. You begin to pump slowly, your movements hesitant. 

“Don’t..act so coy, I know you’ve seen this before.” And your heart drops in your stomach. You search for an excuse, a denial, but they all die in your throat. He only grins in response, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. One arm reaches behind your head, gently pushing your face mere inches away from his throbbing length. Your eyes flicker up to him then back down to his angry red tip, after a deep shaky breath you gather some spit in your mouth allowing it to flow onto him. He groans at the sensation, hand gripping your hair tightly. 

You loll your tongue out, smearing the spit and pre-cum around his tip. Your other hand wraps around as well. Sukuna growls as your mouth engulfs him, tongue swirling around his head. He pushes your head down slowly, your mouth stretching at his size. Tears well up in your eyes as he hits the back of your esophagus, sinful gagging noises emanate from your throat. He hums amused.

“This view suits you…” He chuckles lowly as his hands guide your head up and down his shaft. He sets the pace, before letting go of your head. You look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, the tears pooling in your eyes. Sukuna lies against the plush pillow, hands giving attention to his aching second cock. His breath hitches as his hips buck up, his length pushing even deeper into your throat. A sudden feeling of choking causes you to come up for air, coughing as oxygen finally enters your lungs again. A wave of embarrassment washes over you. 

How pathetic you must look to your king, not even able to provide him with pleasure.

Ryomen grabs your waist, pulling you back under him. His eyes, darken as he pushes his body closer to you. A low thunderous rumble reverberates from his throat as his spit-soaked length finds friction against your stomach. You feel your own arousal pool between your legs as you are overwhelmed with a dangerous mix of fear and desire.

His lips capture yours in a rough kiss, sharp teeth baring down on your bottom lip as his tongue explores your mouth. Your soft moans are swallowed by him as his strong hands roam your naked body. He parts from the kiss, a trail of spit still connecting you two. He looks upon your panting form, without a second thought diving into your neck nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. Two hands grope your breasts, rolling the swollen buds between his fingers. He squeezes gently as you whimper under him, moving his mouth to encircle your nipple. The heat between your core nearing unbearable.

“My.. lord… p-please..” You cry out, his teeth graze your nipple, a warning. He huffs against your skin.

“Do not rush me, woman.” His mouth moves to your other breast. Staring up at the high, ornately decorated ceiling of Ryomen’s chambers, you find yourself drifting into a daze. Suddenly coming to when you feel a rough hand reach between your wet folds. Sukuna purrs lowly, gathering your slick between his fingers. Your gaze meets his once more, you desperately squirm against his hand.

“Already so eager… surely you realize you’ll break if I try to fuck you.” His voice laced with playful menace as his fingers tease your entrance. Your vision hazes as you look up at your king, your bruised lips part taking in shaky breaths in anticipation.

One thick finger enters, pumping into you slowly as you feel your whole body turn to jelly. Sukuna chuckles darkly as you writhe under him, he adds another thick digit giving you just a second to adjust to the slight stretch. You feel a pressure building in your abdomen, similar to the one you felt the night you spied on your king.

“You’re close, aren’t you… How disappointing it's just from my fingers.” He coos bringing his other hand to your throbbing clit. He speeds up his ministrations, slipping in a third finger to bring you closer to the edge. A slight curve upwards is all it takes for your sinful walls to clench around his fingers, your back arches as you are delivered to a place you’ve never been before. The unfamiliar feeling of orgasm, the pleasure of release washes over your body.

Ryomen removes his fingers from you, watching as your hole flutters around nothing, he brings the slick-coated fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste the fruits of his labor. You catch your breath as you feel his weight pushing you deeper into the sheets. His crimson eyes bore holes in your soul as he looks down at you with pure hunger in his gaze. One of his cocks rubs between your folds, gathering your arousal. A flash of hesitation crosses your face.

“I do not expect you to take both your first time.” He attempts reassurance. His cockhead rubs up and down, kissing your clit before pushing into your hole. 

He growls as he slowly enters you, feeling the warmth of your walls enveloping him. You wince at the stretch, tears pricking your eyes. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb wiping away the tears as they fall. He hushes your cries with a gentleness previously unknown to him.

“Relax little one… I hnng am going as slow as possible.” He moans as more of his length is surrounded by you. The way your warm walls clench around his thick cock makes his eyes roll, you were so tight, a temptress made to bring him to his knees. A vision of utter seduction. Buried deep in your pussy, you could ask anything and surely he’d grant every one of your desires. “You.. fucking minx.” He curses as his tip kisses your cervix.

Your hands claw at his chiseled chest as you feel him reach the depths of your cavern. 

“Lord Sukuna! T’much!” Your words come out jumbled and slurred as he begins to thrust into you. His pace slow, painfully so. His face etched with utter concentration as he tries to control his urge to split you open. With each long stroke, you feel every vein as he drags along your walls. Feeling deliciously full as King Sukuna pumps purposefully into your cunt.

“F…Faster please my lord..” You whisper shamelessly, his eyebrow quirks up in amusement.

“You dare…order your king?” He sneers, picking up the pace anyway. His hips stutter as he feels your cunt squeeze around him. Sukuna pulls you up to him, now resting on his heels as his two strong arms hold your back and the others hold your hips in place. Your arms snake around his neck supporting yourself as he pistons into you.

His thrusts become less rhythmic as he nears his breaking point. He grunts louder, his breath quickening.

“You belong to me… fuck… you hear me woman?  All mine. Mineminemine...” He groans and babbles as he delivers one last thrust, his cock twitching as he paints your walls with his hot sticky seed. Your back arches in his hold as you reach your climax. He watches as your body convulses, melting like putty into his hands. He lowers you back onto the mattress, watching as your chest heaves. He slides his cock out of you, still semi-hard now covered in a mixture of your slick and his cum.

You take in the sight above you: his slightly damp pink hair, tattooed arms now bearing tiny welts from your scratches. And the look on his face—his red eyes nearly black from arousal. Gods, you wished you could take a picture, a snapshot burned into your brain for eternity.

He sinks into the space next to you, catching his breath. You are quiet for a moment, mind still reeling from the events that just transpired. Should you stay? Were you meant to just up and leave after? Unease coils in your chest as you sit up, gathering yourself for the short walk to your room before you hear his voice again.

“ Where do you think you’re going?” His voice laced with a hint of annoyance. You glance over your shoulder to see him propped up on one of his hands, his gaze dark.

“I thought you’d want me to—”

“You will stay. You will… sleep here with me.” he commands softly, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulls you onto his broad chest. Your ear presses against his pectoral, the strong, steady beat of his heart thrumming through you like a soothing lullaby. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he rests his hand atop your head. 

“Sleep…” he murmurs, his voice a deep, husky whisper before his soft snores soon rumble in his chest. You close your eyes as well, drifting off as you lay on the man who’d watch the world burn… for you.

taglist (I added who I could, some blogs were unable to be tagged!! FULL NOW IM SORRY) @quinnyundertow @devastyle @bokuatsubro @alt-her @novembersavior @twinkyjohnson @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @bubb13gumb1tch @kalulakunundrum @flowerpot113 @caratinluv @koyukilove @memers666 @saikilover7878 @smolbeanzzz @byul9158 @shadava @bellinghambby22 @pastelbunnelby @jvg02 @ohmykwonsoonyoung @goldenglow149 @imnotabot28 @s1urpjuic3 @nctislifue @szired @mold-ed @fuyuji-ii @samisfunky @junni-berry @call-memissbrightside @wil10wthetree @iamthehybrid @poemzcheng @00frenchfries00 @greentea-ellie @worldean @klutzylaena @heyheyheyggg @hillmiaxoxo @lashaemorow @kuudere-raia @didielly @thejujvtsupost @malazloje @dumplings4life0520 @kum1ko-chan @paprikaquinn @damnshorty @dumbmi

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙀𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 - Pt. 1

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[​🇦​/​🇳​]⦂ I'm not specific with his looks or costume so this can be any variant that tickles your fancy! Just know tho that for me, that's Mohawk Mark 👀

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Variant!Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ Violence, possession

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ 100% inspired by reading tokoyamisstuff‘s Variant!Mark fic called “Second Chance At Love” (it’s a 2 parter and SO GOOD – you MUST check it out)

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You were fucked. 

There was no sugarcoating the situation – things were looking grim.  Your breathing was labored as you laid face down on the pavement beneath a car.  There was a constant rumble in the ground as buildings collapsed all around the city, the sound of desperate screams overlapping one another and turning into a stomach-churning cacophony of horror.  The day had switched so abruptly from calm and peaceful to utter chaos that your brain didn’t have time to fully comprehend what was happening.  One minute you were enjoying a light lunch at an outdoor café, and the next you were cowering for your life under some random vehicle. 

From what you could gather from your small window of sight, someone who resembled the hero named Invincible was making short work of the city – why?  You couldn’t even begin to guess.  You were never overly interested in the life and goings on of supers, and made no effort to keep up with the latest happenings in their world.  As far as you were concerned that was all way above your paygrade.

But even with your bare minimum knowledge, you knew that Invincible was one of the good guys.  And from the few glimpses you saw, this super had a slightly different costume.  Whatever the situation, you couldn’t help but kick yourself for choosing to stay in the city.  Your mother had been nagging you for ages to move back to your rural hometown, claiming that it was safer and better for your health.  You’d hate to hear what she was saying about the current events unfolding…

The cramped and shaded spot you were hiding in abruptly became open and sunny, the sound of creaking metal almost deafening overhead. “There you are!” a voice rang out.  Turning slightly to look up towards the sky you’re greeted by the darkened silhouette of a super, the small shine of his teeth illuminated in the shadow.  With one arm he held the car you were hiding beneath casually over his head. “I knew I’d find you somewhere around here.”  He tossed the sedan into the café a few yards away with as much ease as you would have tossed a crumpled sheet of paper into a trashcan.

You curled into yourself, arms attempting to cover your head in response to the car crashing into your favorite lunch spot. In the midst of the mayhem you didn’t even notice you were off the ground until you realized all of the ear-splitting clamor seemed quieter and farther away.  Cautiously lowering your arms, you opened your eyes to the view of Invincible’s face as he smirked down at you.  Had you been saved?  That is what heroes do of course, but to save just you in such a widespread catastrophe seemed… well, really fucking weird.  “W-What’s happening?” you manage to choke out.

“A lot of fucked up shit,” he responded starkly, his stare raking across the destroyed landscape below.  You kept your eyes fixed on him, refusing to see how far up you really were.  After a second he returned his gaze to you, the almost wicked smirk still pulling at the corner of his lips. “Aren’t you so glad I got to you first?”

“F-First?”  As if on cue, another voice identical to Invincible’s boldly stated,

“Find yourself a toy?”  Spinning midair to face the voice, you were beyond confused to find another Invincible, this one different enough to clearly tell they were indeed not the same person yet somehow they were still identical. 

“Fuck off and mind your own business,” the one holding you spat back.

“Didn’t mom teach you not to play with your food?” Alarm bells were blaring in your mind, and any thought of this being a rescue mission quickly melted into an abduction story.

“Didn’t she teach you how to shut the hell up?”  The other Invincible choked down a bitter laugh before turning away from you and saying,

“Whatever.  More universes for me to conquer then.”  With a sonic boom he was gone, barreling through buildings on the streets below and leaving nothing but rubble and fire in his wake.

“What a prick…” The Invincible holding your mumbled. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Before you could think to ask who the hell was that, who the hell was he, what the hell was happening, or anything at all, you were moving through the sky at a speed that left you hanging on just to breathe.  You were cradled in his arms like a child, still curled into a tight ball with your fingers locked desperately into his suit. 

After some time that felt like an eternity, Invincible made contact with solid ground.  Feeling safe to lift your face up and away from his chest, you immediately recognized where you were.  “Why are we in Fernville?”  Setting you down on your feet, you felt your knees shake as if about to give way beneath you.  You gripped onto his arm to steady yourself.

“I figured you’d want to see this place one last time.”  Looking at him with wide eyes, you’d finally had enough of the confusion.

“For the love of god can you please tell me what the hell is going on?!”  For the first time you saw an expression on his face that seemed almost out of place – heartache.

“Wait – you don’t remember me?”

“I mean, sure, I know of you.  I think everyone knows who Invincible is.”  Now his face turned to a look of mild relief.

“Ohh, I get it now.  You and this Mark never got close.”

“Who the hell is Mark!” Your words came out more as an exclamation than a question, your feelings really running your actions at this point.

“You used to make drinks for me at Coffee & Capes.”  You studied his face closely, and after several moments in dawned on you who he was.  The tension in your eyebrows lessened.

“Oh wow, Mark...  I remember you now.  I-I can’t believe you’re Invincible!”  And just like that his smirk was back.

“That’s what they tell me.” You shook your head in disbelief, your mind reeling to try and make sense of what was happening.

“But hold on, you said “this Mark”.  What does that even mean?”  He rolled his neck, eyes glancing wearily in the direction of town.

“It’s complicated.  And honestly a lot to explain…”

“I mean,” you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “I guess I’ve got time.”  He looked back to you again, this time showing a softness and almost adoration.  You quirked an eyebrow, and then suddenly you were being gripped tightly by your upper arms and pulled into him. Without any further warning, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. It’s not gentle or tender. It’s forceful, full of a twisted need that leaves no room for you to breathe or think. His kiss felt like a claim, a possession rather than a moment of affection.

After a moment of being frozen in shock, you tried uselessly to pull away.  Noticing, Mark pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression dark but oddly satisfied. "It’s been so long since I’ve had you…” His voice dropped, a sickly sweetness to it. "I’m not going anywhere.  And neither are you."

【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｔｗｏ】

[xo2dee]

🗨️ ROCKET SKATES

PAIRING: Nanami Kento/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Degradation, Dirty Talk, Thigh Riding, Vaginal Fingering, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Finger Sucking, Spanking, Panty Kink, Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Mentions of Pregnancy, Mentions of Violence (it's not done to either Reader or Nanami). WORD COUNT: 10,469. SUMMARY: It’s not often you get nice, cutesy dates with Kento, but it’s also not often they get ruined... Yet in your favor.

A/N: i wrote this back in 2021 when i was chronically horny and before my frontal lobe developed and taken the liberty to edit the fuck out of it bc i hated the original LMAO. but pls enjoy this filth <3

JJK MASTERLIST

Eyelashes coated in your favorite mascara swept over your eyes in a languid blink as you watched him, his movements nearly too fast for you to comprehend if you didn't already know what to expect.

Him in all his muscled glory hiding underneath that regular, suit get-up he donned nearly every minute he was awake in the day, showcasing the raw, brutal strength he held shadowed within himself as his arm lifted and he all but sent but a mere flick of his wrist and decapitated a curse. Afterwards, he pushed his goggles up, veins in his hand protruding and fingers tight with frustration as he eyed his surroundings in pursuit of any other curses, while you remained rooted to your spot for brief moments being too enamored with his behavior. 

You were too caught on him to pay attention to yourself, a singular thought brimming along your frontal lobe to your fascination and worry over him. 

Something was… off about him.

Nanami Kento was probably one of the best Jujutsu Sorcerers you had ever met (and no, you weren’t being biased and saying that just because he was your lover). He was poised with his abilities, a reserved and perfected angle to how he swung his blade through curses with such deadly precision you wondered if it was his curse technique or just him being him half the time. He finished the job quickly any time he had one, knowing exactly what needed to be done whenever he saw the first curse in his vision and studying their movements for any possible drawbacks. He was an extremely exceptional fighter all on his own anyway, being able to backhand curses (and people) if he so wanted to out of his space and all-in-all having his own advanced knowledge on combat that better helped him get the job done and get it done efficiently.

“Behind you!”

All of that was normal Kento behavior. What you were experiencing at the moment was the very reason you believed something was off about him. Your little dance with curses at that moment was not normal Kento behavior, and that was causing you to drift off and let your brain follow in on him to see if you could pick up what was so odd about him. He was tense, jerking movements of his arm swinging his blade through curses looking choppy and harsh, while the grunts leaving him he normally kept quiet and concealed were loud and groaning as he was heavier on his feet and pouncing around like some hungry predator. He was…

He was aggressive.

“Focus!”

The deep sound of his voice shouting at you after having him dive down and splitting a curse rightly in two for getting too close to you when you had been keeping your eyes on him made you grip up on your weapon more, yet it didn’t stop the shiver curling down each jut of bone along your spine when you nearly could feel the vibration of it and could taste the huskiness of it. He had not been that way all day, only recently whenever you two had been rudely interrupted on your date and had to make room for exorcising curses. Alas – you sighed and watched him run a harsh hand through his hair, him tussling it up even more – you should’ve known something like that would’ve happened.

You always could say it: dates with Nanami Kento were hard to come by, but they were always relaxing and left you feeling wholeheartedly complete afterwards whenever you both got to go on one. Though, you weren’t too sure the ‘date’ you two were on would really be worth it in the end.

Yet, color you wrong once more, it certainly was worth it in the end.

It wasn’t like you had planned for it to even happen. Who the Hell would hope in the middle of a Farmer’s Market date that you two would get attacked by curses and have to clear out the goddamn area and lead them to a more secluded and adept area to exorcise them better? Certainly not you since you rarely got to go on cutesy dates with him and just enjoy his ‘I’m not at work so I can be less strict and less professional with you’ attitude.

That last part wasn’t seeming to be happening at that moment anyway with him huffing out orders and yells at you whenever you slipped up a bit and nearly costed yourself.

You rolled your shoulders back as another lowly curse approached you, twirling your cursed weapon in your hands as you sent a substantial amount of cursed energy through it before you were dashing forward and poising yourself for a strike. You faked to the right whenever the curse provoked, a swift, brutal swing as you heard the wind whizzing through the air in your ear and felt the vibration of when the impact hit it from how hard you had swung. The payoff was worth it in the end, the curse’s head fully unlatching from its body after you pulled through your entire hit with the faint buzzing of adrenaline bubbling up through your veins whenever you felt that thrill from fighting. You stood fully afterwards, lips parted slightly from your breaths and heart loud in your ears as you laid eyes back on Kento who had cleanly cut another curse again in two.

And by your own foolish accord, you were losing focus thinking back to perhaps why he was acting so aggressive.

The day had been fine and so had the date; locked arms with Kento walking around the vicinity amicably with him holding the basket full of all fruits, veggies, greens and ingredients he wanted to use in cooking recipes you liked to listen to him prattle on about because his interest in cooking and food was as adorable as it was sexy. Kento cooked like a dream and you had a reason to tease him to say he could be a professional chef if he wasn’t a professional Jujutsu Sorcerer, to which he’d go on his humble monologue about how his cooking wasn’t all that amazing and he did it to get by and appetize himself. Yeah okay, that’s why whenever you ate his cooking he always would subtly look for your approval and let a sigh of relief when you liked it.

Adorable man.

Nevertheless it was a stark contrast to his fierce attitude with the curses. You had vocally whined and expressively pouted whenever that basket full of ingredients and edibles had been slung away by him rather harshly whenever a curse had gotten too close to you and he straight-up knocked it feet away from you two with a poorly concealed, pissed off grunt by smacking it in the face with the basket. Kento, understandably, was exasperated you had been more worried about dinner more than your own safety, but in the end you sighed while getting serious and listening to him whenever he told you plans were changing and that you two needed lure the curses away from civilians and exorcise them elsewhere.

After all, Kento held up above the safety of civilians, innocents and children more than his own self. And that included you, even though you were perfectly capable of fighting alongside of him easily and he needed to stop jumping in front of you like he had just done beforehand trying to shield you from another curse and then backhanding it away again with tensed muscles and a tensed jaw with a pants-pissing glare.

You liked fighting with Kento (even if it ended up ruining dates, and he sometimes was a bit overbearing trying to keep you safe) as it was energizing and downright adrenalizing whenever you got to fluidly moving around him and along with him. Yet at that moment, despite all the adrenaline and the pent-up aggression you could feel fluctuating off the both of you, there were no words to describe the regret you were feeling for your fashion choice. After flipping through the air and landing on the cracked pavement at one point, your ankle had twisted causing you to stumble and a curse to come flying right at you, but Kento being nearby was already steadying you with one hand first before twirling you both out of the way and then shooting another exasperated look towards you before swiftly slashing the legs off the curse.

“Watch your step.”

Honestly yeah, you got it, wearing high-heeled boots for combat was stupid, but you weren’t dressing for combat. You had dressed for a cute Farmer’s Market date that got fucking ruined, and you were then flipping around in a skirt and heels fighting curses. If you weren’t so annoyed, you’d tease him and say that he probably liked watching your skirt ride up on your thighs and letting him get a peek at your panties, but the man looked like he was about to bust a blood vessel for whatever reason.

Still… you weren’t too used to being rescued like he had been doing for your carelessness, but watching Kento rip off his jacket and completely abandon it on top of a vacant car letting you feast eyes on the harness fitting snugly against his back before rolling up his sleeves showing his forearms that were already firmly coiled up with his veins bulging outwards and him harshly grabbing his tie and unraveling it free of its confines so that he could wrap it around a tight fist…

Or maybe you’d get yourself into more trouble so that he’d come save you and give you that little glare that wrinkled his forehead and made his lips twitch.

No way you were horny just looking at him (then again… look at him). You chalked it up to all that adrenaline and cursed energy you were emitting outwards, while it also pumped through your veins and rushed through your blood as you finally sprinted off after him when he began to shake the blood clinging to his weapon off, your solid heels making quite a lot of noise on the pavement as you went.

You had dodged, flipped, slashed, spun, and hit your way around the curses, coming up to stand next to Kento after he sent another clean cut that split a curse into two. You took notice of the white-knuckled grip on the handle of his weapon, the grunts he had been letting out rather loudly compared to how he usually stayed rather quiet and reserved whenever fighting, the vein nearly pulsing on his temple, some blood smeared on his jawline you wanted to drag a finger across to clean, and you took notice of his body stiffening and jaw clenching harder whenever you leaned up to brush your chin across his tense shoulder.

Something was… off about him.

Unconsciously, you let your breath blow across his neck as you opened your mouth to speak, “You’re being awfully violent today,” you remarked, your chest heavy from all the stamina you had been using that made it come out more sounding like a pant.

Kento’s head only angled towards you minimally, the glare on the lenses of his glasses allowing you but a brief look into a steely glower, and the tilt letting you see his mouth twitch down further into a frown. “This is annoying,” he finally spoke, gravelly voice thick with a hard edge that was but growled out. He shifted again and slightly turned towards you, the thick cord of his bicep brushing against your breasts before he was looming over you, nearly shadowing your entire body, “And I’m being distracted.”

His cologne was strong sifting up through your nose and into your brain, the nerves already alive in your body from the adrenaline buzzing harder as you wiggled those words around in your brain. “Distracted by what?” you asked as you glanced off towards the side to see if you two were truly alone. Something in his slightly heaving chest was twisting the atmosphere between you two (as well as twisting your lower gut in an all-too familiar feeling).

He didn’t answer you right away, instead moving into your personal space to capture your full attention. Your face ended up nearly buried into his sculpted pectorals and you could hear, as well as feel, the raspy grunt leave his body whenever he jerked his arm up rather harshly and swung through another curse that had been creeping up behind you. The gurgling noise of the curse reached your ears and you peeped around your shoulder to see he had slashed another one in half again. Normally he was one of just going for the limb decapitation, but… he had been absolutely demolishing them left and right in outstanding speed and ferocity you had been having trouble keeping up with him.

The hair on your body rose whenever his hand snaked its way onto the middle of your back, easing you forward into him as you trained your eyes onto his face. You let him guide you, his hand suddenly seeming to be the only thing keeping you upright and keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground.

Kento was quiet for a brief moment until you felt him slightly leaning over to brush mouth against your ear, warm breath tickling as you felt his palm lay flat against your back, “Am I going to have to keep saving you?” His breath was suddenly hot on your skin then, your toes curling into your boots as your adrenaline-fueled body and mind was moving before you could even recognize what you were doing or inspect if he was feeling the same.

A hand of yours shot up out of nowhere as you tangled your fingers into the hair of his undercut and you pulled him harshly down into your face for a kiss. It was messy and it slightly hurt whenever you knocked your chin against his, but you were so pent up and moved by just your nerves literally being lit on fire from the thrill of a fight and your loins spiraling from how he was just being so aggressive and just so different, you couldn’t stop yourself from just getting a taste of his lips. However, even in your stupor you worried that the kiss wasn’t returned and that perhaps you misread and were being unbearably horny, but that quickly flew out the window when the hand on your back slid downwards to rest lower and pull on the fabric of your shirt.

“You said – you’re distracted –” you spoke hotly and breathily in-between smacks of fierce kisses, biting down onto his lower lip in the process, “Distracted by what – Kento?"

Kento didn’t necessarily respond at first, busy devouring your lips as much as he could in kisses consisting of saliva and smacks, a far cry from your usual chaste ones, before he was using the arm holding his weapon to cage you into him around your waist. You could feel the sword angled upright against your spine, your hip knocking into his thigh as he slid a leg forward and kicked one of your feet away so that he could slot his thigh in-between your own. It was hard, and it was tensed, the appendage already jerking up into your clothed cunt that was embarrassingly wet you noticed whenever you rolled your hips in response to his movement.

He swallowed the small moan you gave from the stimulation, jerking you harder into his stone-like abdomen and farther up on his thigh, before his mouth left yours and he trailed his saliva-covered lips across your cheek and down into the junction of your neck. He started kissing and biting there, all the while letting his arm slip down to let a hand curl fingers on your hip and guide you to grind on his thigh as the blade of his sword sat dangerously close to your ribcage.

“You want to know?” he asked in that octave that whispered sinfully deep into your ears when he had your legs thrown up over his shoulders with his cock diving into you. It was utterly nefarious, wisping across your skin and letting you know he felt the same way you did, and only burned that arousal brewing within you hotter. He continued on when your eyelashes fluttered at the tone of his voice and your spine arched into him, "Something tells me you already do."

"Mm," you started off, pressing into his hard body like you wanted to melt within the hard planes of his being, as you played with him more since he already had you figured out. You could already feel your cunt getting more soaked and the cloth of your panties growing uncomfortable the more you shamelessly grinded on his thigh in the middle of the street, the soft sighing pants leaving your mouth blowing his locks curling down onto his forehead and your fingers tangling more into his hair for retribution. You rolled harder, feeling his thigh press up more into you in retaliation before huffing out against his forehead, “Tell me and I’ll tell you why I’m so wet for you –”

You cut yourself off with a high-pitched gasp, however it was not by your own doing. Kento had taken that moment after your little breathy whisper to flex his thigh. You couldn’t help your own straining to tighten around the movement, trying to unsuccessfully meet that rhythm when he held you at bay instead.

“You,” he groaned out in desperation against your neck, a sweet kiss placed there that shattered the front he was putting. He was lifting his face back away from you after that, the furrowed brow and tensed jaw on his expression sending a hot course of pleasure into your clit as you continued a slow pursuit on his thigh and letting you leisurely drown in ecstasy the more you moved.   

“Me?” you asked in a teasing tone, craning your head back further exposing the soft skin of your throat he had been fixated on beforehand. You slightly tugged his head back away from your own to expose his neck, watching his nostrils flare and face pinch up before you could feel the stare from underneath his glasses; a plea perhaps. You paid it no mind, arching your back further and pushing your heaving chest outwards for his gaze while you tried not to take notice when his eyes that were barely discernible through his glasses fell to your breasts when you did so that made you all the more excited. Instead you were kicking your foot against his like he had done before to you to bring his eyes back as you smirked that you had caught him staring, “How could I make you distracted?”

Kento tugged you back closer, your chest slanting against him as his new attitude and breathy words altered the ambiance from fighting in the air between you two to something he used whenever he was prowling after you in the bedroom. The adrenaline was still coursing through you whenever you watched his glasses slightly slide down to give you view to his dilated pupils, his hold on your back nearly startling as he leaned down closer to you, “Your carelessness, the way you’ve been steadily losing control, the way you’ve been watching me the entire time… that damn skirt I can’t stand to look at right now…” he all but groaned out that last part, eyebrows twitching and teeth gritting as his chest heaved in tune with yours and urged your hips rougher onto his thigh.

You sighed whenever your clit began to tingle from all the pleasure and the mere fact you two were doing all of that in public, the adrenaline morphing and combining your eagerness for sex to follow in on his movement, but instead to keep him at bay as the hand still holding your weapon crept along his belt and skimmed across the front of his pants that were already bulging out.

You grinned.

“You’re already hard? Have you been hard this entire time watching me? Did you like seeing every peek of my panties you could get? Did you think about just what you could do with them whenever you could get the chance? Did you think about taking them off of me and wrapping them around your cock –”

You didn’t get very far finishing the sentence, his patience and desperation clouding his actions as he leaned into your body. Perhaps chasing after what you sought, his temple pressing into yours and his lips slightly trembling as they found their way onto your ear.

“You’re distracting me,” he sighed, mouth coming closer as he heatedly spoke those words, “and it’s best we don’t do this here unless…” he trailed off for a moment, dark eyes momentarily leaving your face to glance around the area with an inquisitive look as though seeming something else caught his attention.

You, however, were intrigued, the new side of Kento something you had never really seen. Yes you had seen him somewhat agitated whenever he fought curses, but those times were nothing compared to what you had seen earlier with his ferocious movements and near unrecognizable harsh burst of cursed energy he had been emitting. You liked that look in his eyes, an icy anger and adrenaline-hazed in his pupils that grew which each passing moments and only widened the more he looked at you, but also the desperation he like displayed whenever you turned around and prowled after him. You liked the way his body seemed to be coiled up a predator about to strike down its prey for the kill.

Something was off about him… and you began to know exactly what it was.

Whether it was just him getting worked up watching you or perhaps he felt the same way you did that your date was ruined, it was clear that he was pent up with frustration.

You didn’t give him a chance to finish whatever he was going to say, tilting your head closer to him as you skimmed your lips across his in a mock tease to let his eyes return back to your face with an indescribable glint. You untangled your fingers from those blonde locks, trailing a nail down his neck as you smiled against his mouth and gave a long, slow roll onto his thigh and letting him feel the pulsing of your cunt as you did so.

“So what are you gonna do, Kento? What are you gonna do about me distracting you?”

It was a split second and your eyes widened, the sudden burst of cursed energy from him in front of you and another creature behind you raising your hackles and nearly diminishing the arousal you felt within you if it hadn’t been for Kento’s actions.

It was another hard swing of his arm, the grunt and hot breath leaving him pushed out against your mouth in a near kiss as he swung through yet another curse that had snuck up behind you in your fascination with him. You could hear the flesh split and blood splatter, slightly turning your head to peek once more as you noticed that time he had cut off the head of the curse for getting too close you. You watched dazedly as he flicked his weapon free of blood again, the hand on your back cradling you into his body smoothing down your skin in a slow caress of comfort.

You could barely stop the moan leaving you after he did it too, grinding farther up on his thigh to wet his pants and brushing your knuckles against his hard cock as you placed a kiss on his bottom lip. He didn’t grant it to you for too long however, letting his hand fall off your back before he was stepping away from you altogether but a few inches, untangling all his limbs from you and removing his glasses to place them in his pocket in the process. His tie remained wrapped tight around his fist as he rolled up his sleeves better, the thick corded muscles of his forearms bulging with the movement before he deftly unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.

His hair was still messed up, and the blood was still smeared underneath his jaw.

God, fuck, he looked good.

Kento regarded you for a few moments as you both stared at each other with clear ravenous desire electrifying the air between you two. You nearly wanted to take a step forward to initiate it with that kiss you still wanted, but Kento was once again beating you to the punch with a long sigh that sounded so deliciously sinful and bordering on a groan it stopped you in your pursuit and dampened your panties more.

“I suppose I’ll just have to make do there since anything and everything will interrupt us out here.”

You rose a brow, “Meaning…?”

He fixed you with another leveled stare, cheeks flushing from agitation, arousal, embarrassment, you weren’t sure, but something told you it was something perhaps darker and that you were wound tight in the trap set by him. He took another breath, heavy and oh-so loud, then took one step forward and tensing up as he grew nearer once more. His lips parted as he stalked you, the words coming out shocking your nerves and burning that fire behind your naval brighter.

“Meaning… I am going to finish what you started in that alleyway behind us and fuck you."

Then without further ado, and with another remarkable show of his speed he had thrown you over his shoulder, a squeal leaving your mouth as you found yourself staring at the blue fabric of his shirt covering his back and his broad shoulder digging into your abdomen. He had picked you up with one arm, the feat of the strength he possessed always surprising you and shooting white-hot pleasure straight down into your core. A small, giggling snort left you, pressing your boobs as much as you could into his back as you felt him stiffen from the feeling and your hand ghosting down to swat at his ass in further attempts to set him off.

The eye you were able to see from his side profile made a slow shift towards you for a desperate look, the vein in his temple near throbbing and his cheeks a very bright red from all your teasing. You would’ve felt wounding him up after being pissed off from your date getting ruined, but Kento had made zero complaints that he had wanted you to stop at all. Besides, it wasn’t like it would be the first time you two did anything similar.

You spent your time staring the blue hue of his shirt and subtly slipping a finger underneath his harness to ever-so often to slap it against his taut back as he finally made way to the alley, letting you down gently and taking your weapon away from your hand to slip it onto his back along with his own. Your pussy was throbbing by then in anticipation to what he had planned, and you didn’t have to wait long when you made eye contact with him again.

And from the look in his eyes, he was going to have his way with you and fuck you in a gritty, secluded alleyway that no regular person would dare to walk down in fear of what was in the darkness.

God, it shouldn’t have been as hot as it seemed.

“Good?” he asked, nervousness painting along his features for what you had to say – or if you were to decline that time. And it didn’t take a genius to know what he was asking of you.

“Good. And you?”

“Perfect.”

It was fast as Kento’s mouth descended onto yours, his hands cradling your face in desperate kiss as you walked backwards for him to press yourself against the wall. Your shoulder blades dug into the brick of the alleyway before you felt him close in on you and curl an arm underneath your knee to lift your leg up and pin your thigh up against the wall. His hips were already digging into either side of your inner thighs, his pelvis nearly inches away from your own as your skirt finally rode up to let him feast eyes on what he wanted most in that moment. You curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you bit your lip watching him already get to work and fluttering your eyes when you realized what he was doing.

Kento wasted no time dragging a knuckle down the front of your panties, a desperate noise leaving him whenever he pressed down onto the wet material before ultimately deciding he wasn’t going to have to waste any time with you. A finger coiled underneath the lace covering your pussy, pulling it to the side, and then he was sinking a lone, thick middle finger into you and cursing under his breath whenever you moaned unabashedly loud and clenched around the appendage while shallowly rocking your hips forward onto him.

He didn’t spare you any glance, face downwards as his fingers tightened on your thigh pinning it harder into the wall it nearly left indentions while he only watched the movement of his finger leaving you and returning you and coming out more coated with your juices each time he did so. You watched his dark eyebrows angle down more, a muscle bulging out in his jaw whenever the sounds of your soaked pussy began to fill quiet alleyway before he was speaking in a condescending tone, “Why are you so wet?”

You tried to tug him closer, a ‘Mmm’ leaving you whenever he picked up the pace and added another finger that slid in way too easy and leaving him to grunt again when you enthusiastically returned that with a higher-pitched moan. However Kento stayed steady, keeping his eyes down watching himself finger you and pinning your thigh higher up on the wall as you indulged him, “You mean why am I wet after watching you act like that and when you let me ride on your thigh? God Kento, you should know how wet you get me…”

His face twisted again, a slight look up towards your face underneath his eyelashes that nearly made you shiver from how blown his pupils were before he gently pulled his fingers out of you. His fingers were absolutely drenched with you, and he was examining them for a brief moment until he returned his hand and let it skim gently across your slit with a finger tickling at your clit and slowly using the pad of his finger to begin circling it. You let out a quiet whine, fingers twisting into his shirt more as you tilted your head against wall and slowly rolled your hips in tune to his ministrations.

Suddenly his finger was gone, taking all the pleasure he had been giving you for the brief moment and he lifted his head back up to look at you with a scowl and his voice deathly calm in a murmur, “You can do better than this.”

You squirmed whenever his finger brushed by your opening again, teasing you with putting a finger in to one knuckle before pulling it away and returning to soft touches to your clit. “Just touch me please.”

Kento regarded you with a sigh, pinching your clit for the whine and giving you what you wanted. He wasn’t finished with the teasing though, spending a few more rounds alternating from curling his fingers against your walls and pulling them free whenever he felt like it, and rubbing your clit in circles as you started to turn into a moaning, drooling mess biting into his shoulder from all the stimulation. Yet every time you sighed and your eyes nearly rolled back when you felt your cunt begin to loosen with an impending orgasm, he was pulling away and leaving you hanging that had you shaking in his hold and biting harder into his shirt.

You gained another bit of clarity from your swirling haze when you felt his fingers drag excruciatingly slow in circles along your thigh he had pinned against the wall, a vibrating hum leaving his throat whenever he felt your legs begin to shake. That hand trailed up and moved to lie palm up on the wall next to your head, the other pulling away from your pussy and letting it slide in a smooth, tantalizing graze until he glided up in-between your breasts before he laid his palm flat there. You could feel the wetness of your pussy juice coating his fingers through your shirt as he gently pushed your body back off of his to lean you against the wall. He took a moment to access your conditions, and when seeing no signs of backing out he continued onwards.

Your half-lidded eyes fell on his face, watching him grow closer until he was mouthing his next words around your lips and knocking his pelvis into yours.

“Tell me what you want,” Kento huffed so heatedly into your mouth, a barely there bite to your bottom lip and a small squeeze to one of your breasts.

Your whole body was trembling, fingers twisting into his shirt and mind drunk for him as your cunt all drenched along your inner thighs and pleading to be filled by him fluttered from his sinful tone. “Please, just let me cum – touch me, Kento,” you all but begged, bratty demeanor from before all but gone.

“And why should I do that?” His voice was low, eyelashes dipping more over his dark eyes that seemed to grow brighter the more you lost your composure. His hand left your chest after that, gliding back down as he pinched at your soaked panties.

“Because… just please, I understand what I did,” you whined out, trying to kiss at his lips again but to no avail. You nearly felt like thrashing around, the want to cum and need have him inside too strong and making you lose some of your sense.

A ‘Hmm’ was breathed out around you, two pads of his fingers rubbing the fabric of your lace panties together, “You did show you could do better letting your pussy get more wet for me, but…” he slid your panties down an inch, “you need to learn to be patient,” he finally hissed out, his tone losing that calm form and coiling into that barely restrained one you heard earlier whenever you had been teasing him.

You weren’t giving up, desperate for his entire being as one hand of yours slid back into his hair and massaged the back of his skull, “I am patient! I’ll do what you want me to do, just – please.”

Kento didn’t reply to you for a moment, only a sigh leaving his mouth that sounded just as condescending as it felt before he pulled your panties down another inch with the cool air tickling your soaked lower half. “You’ll do what I want? You’ll listen and only cum when I say you can?”

You wiggled up against his chest, arching your back away from the wall and trying to get closer to him and his clothed hard cock pressing against your abdomen, “Yesyesyesyesyes, anything.”

He was getting better at it. And hadn’t broke character once.

You’d definitely reward him for it a later time.

Kento only pulled away far enough to lean down and tear your horribly drenched panties off of you with a powerful sweep on his hand, pocketing them away in his pants for safekeeping. He closed in on you faster than before, and in one easy maneuver he yanked you up into his front harder with a steel arm wrapped around your back before instructing you further with orders.

“Up.”

You jumped up rather wobbly, his hands falling to settle on your thighs in a squeeze as you wrapped them around his waist. He pushed you back against the wall to lean in and plunge another harsh kiss onto your mouth as he grounded his cock up against your naked cunt, biting at your lower lip again when you whined and pulling away to mouth at your jawline before making his way to your ear and whispering his next command against your earlobe with a biting tease.

“Undo my pants.”

You weren’t able to wait any longer, hurriedly releasing your hands from where they were holding onto him and you miraculously were able to loosen his belt free and pull him out with a teasing squeeze. You barely held in a moan when you felt him so vulnerable in your hand, a shudder leaving you when you realized he was about to put himself inside of you and from his reaction to you touching him so heavy.

Kento’s lips and teeth detached themselves from your jawline frighteningly quick, his handsome, chiseled features twisting into pleasure as he threw his head back a brief angle and let out a groan from your touch. You nearly wanted to bite down onto his Adam’s apple exposed so nicely to you, and you would’ve if he hadn’t tilted his head back down with a wild glint in his eyes and used one hand to push yours away from his cock and hold them together against your breasts. The other left your thigh as well, leaving you suspended in the air by just his strength and weight as he rose his hand palm up right under your mouth.

“Spit.”

His curt, clipped tones only served to continue and turn you on, eagerly complying to him as you rolled your tongue around in your mouth to produce more saliva until the inside was completely full of your spit. You puckered your lips afterwards and drooled a decent amount of spit into his palm as his fingers teased at the edge of your lips while you did so, your drool getting caught in the corners of your mouth and wetting your chin once you were finished. A harsh tingle found its way into your clit once more when you watched his nostrils flare at your willingness and the way you were complying to his orders so quickly, a quirk to the corner of his own lips as he pulled his hand away from your face tickling your chin and freed your wrists.

“Good girl,” he praised you once, and in a quick display of reflexes and experience he had learned with you, he reached down with one hand and coated his cock with your spit and mixed it in with his precum, letting a long grunt leave him as he threw his head back once more when he began stroking himself to completely cover his dick with the makeshift lube. His other hand curled around your nape once more, squeezing the area as he shuffled closer to you suddenly, and you felt the recognizable feeling of his hot cock rubbing up against your entire cunt.

You squirmed again, locking your arms around his neck as you lifted yourself up a bit by arching your back waiting for the inevitable. Kento grunted at your eagerness, eyes squeezing shut along with yours whenever you wiggled down more onto his bare cock as your moans mingled together with your mouths so close together whenever you felt his tip brush against your opening. Kento let out a heated huff as he guided himself more into you, his cockhead breaching inside of you while his expression twisted into one of concentration.

“Kento,” you breathe, all breathy and pleading around his lips, “Please.”

His patience had worn thin then you understood, his cock finally pushing further inside of you somewhat slowly and even with how wet you had gotten from the fingering and pussy slapping, it still was quite the fit given Kento was someone who had girth. He was so thick, so searing, it was nearly too much for you to handle even though you had taken his cock countless times before. Though he continued into you as you arched and squirmed from the stretch of him pulling your pussy walls taut, your fingers twisted at the collar of his shirt when you suddenly heard him grunt in frustration then grip your hip in a near bruising hold before shoving the rest of him inside of you in one harsh thrust.

You couldn’t help the loud moan escaping you, the red-hot heat of his cock inside of you and the nerve-tingling pleasure of your cunt squeezing him impossibly tight and shocking your body nearly unbearable for you to even handle as you finally got him inside of you.

Kento seemed to be fairing somewhat better, a hot kiss planted on your mouth when jerked himself as far as he could inside of you, and his voice so low and sinful in your face it was a wonder you weren’t gushing all over him then. “How perfect,” his breath mingled with yours once more, your noses skimming across one and another’s as you began to find it too hard to kiss him back from the coil of pleasure burning behind your naval. “It’s like you were made for me, weren’t you? You’re my girl, aren’t you?” his fingers tightened on your nape, teeth scraping against your bottom lip as he pulled a choked gasp from you with one shallow push of his hips into you.

“Only yours,” you managed in your near drunken stupor, legs shaking around his waist as he started up a slow round of thrust in a mouthwatering angle. A high-pitched moan left you when his free hand teasingly brushed across your clit once more and you rolled your hips downwards to further impale yourself onto his cock, testing his patience in the meanwhile when you heard another long exhale leave him when you bit his lip in tune to clenching up around his dick. “Only you can get me this wet and fuck me like this.”

Perhaps… you should’ve backed off with the tempting words.

Kento was still for a moment before he shifted your higher up against the wall to where his mouth had access to your neck, his breath hot in puffs against it once he got there and with one bite into the junction between your shoulder and neck, he spoke his last command for the time being.

“Lock your ankles.”

Oh, God.

You fluttered your eyelashes at his request, a squirm of excitement tingling down into your pussy as the words nearly made you cum and you unabashedly whimpered in his ear after he growled them out into your throat, your booted feet accompanied with heels locking around his body and letting the dull edge of your heels press into the delicious dip of his lower back.

Better hold on tight.

He pulled out of you slowly one last time and let his tip glide up across your slit and clit before he was burying himself into your cunt with a quick, snap of his hips. The press of him against your sweet spot was harsher that time and the stretch better as it ended up letting you give out a breathless moan, your chest beginning to heave with pants and whines when he set an unforgiving and powerful pace. A pace that sent you spiraling back down into the path of a release that did as much for you as it did for him, the pulsing and fire inside of you raging as he continued to pound away at you.

Your gasps and whines began to line up to the rhythm of his harsh thrusts, your chin coming down to fall onto his shoulder once more as you bit and mouthed away at this shirt to try keep yourself grounded. You rocked your hips as best as you could, trying to incite him into fucking you harder and faster all the while chasing that pressure behind your naval that grew heavier and bigger the more he rapidly entered and left you. You wanted to hear more of his noises, the slight low grunts he was giving not enough as your fingers twisted harder and you let your nails dig into his nape. You wanted him to lose himself in the fitted wetness that was your cunt.

Kento busied himself to kissing and biting along the column of your throat, bouncing you harder as your back began to slide up and down the brick wall behind you and rub your skin through your shirt. You paid it no mind (he’d probably curse himself later as he tended to skin of your back in a bath), too caught up in the rough thrusting as you instead took notice of the steel cold of his belt buckle rubbing into your thigh on one side and the leather of it rubbing onto your other. His groan was muffled into your neck when you squeezed your thighs tighter.

You parted off from sucking on his shoulder with another hair-raising moan, angling your head far back enough so that the back of your skull was knocking against the brick, “Fuck –” your eyes nearly rolled back when his grip on you turned bruising and your tightened at the thought bruises being left behind. Your words came out in the rhythm of each hard thrust, the breath of you getting knocked out each time he quickly entered you and slammed up into your cunt. “I – love – it – when you – get – rough – it feels – so fucking – good!”

Your breathy little admission and the louder and filthier your mouth got earned you the noisy groan you had been wanting, that one hand releasing your hip to slam into the wall beyond you, that you swore nearly shattered the brick, and the other one leaving your nape to trail two fingers along your jawline until he was diving them into the hot expanse of your mouth. Kento pressed his two fingers down onto your tongue, an unspoken word for you to suck on them, and you did so greedily. You could feel your pussy tightening up along with that coil in your abdomen, the warning from earlier not to cum until he told blaring out in your mind before you shoved it away and fell towards your own pleasure.

The smacks you were hearing was both of your skin damp with sweat slapping against each other with every thrust he made and straining you were able to hear the slippery sounds of your cunt getting horribly wrecked. You moaned around his fingers when he grunted harshly into your neck, your head lulling to right and –

You nearly froze, the hair rising on your neck as you took notice of the curse hobbling along towards the both of you with a curious tilt to its head and another slight step of a sound caused you to move your head around to stare at the one approaching Kento from behind. Fear struck you for short moments, your eyes widening and body tensing up as you made a noise complaint around his fingers trying to get his attention that you two were not alone anymore. Though as Kento said before with you distracting him, he almost didn’t take notice and you almost reached around to grab your weapon to swing at one if Kento hadn’t already beat you to the punch.

“Ken –"

The curse to right of you took one step too close and you watched oh-so fascinatingly and so goddamn aroused when Kento’s fingers in your mouth left abruptly with drool stuck to them and caught the curse by its neck, his hand and forearm corded with thick veins bulging outwards in a display of raw strength before he twisted the neck of the curse around and smashed its head into the wall until it exploded in a smog of purple. He was quick again when you heard another annoyed grunt leave him and the hand on the wall disappeared and he reached behind for his blade, and with one clean sweep behind his back without even looking, dislodging the head of the curse with a harsh thrust up into your sopping cunt.

He had done all of that… without looking… with his face buried in your neck… and with him still fucking you…

You couldn’t help it, you came right then and there, so unbelievably turned on that he had done that so aggressively and without even stopping his momentum.

Your nails had made their way scratching down his back through his shirt as you rode out the entirety of your intense orgasm. You were glad Kento had returned his hand from where he had beat that curse against the wall to wrap back around your waist because you were sure you would’ve fallen apart onto the ground with how you finally came down from the euphoria and your limbs all but felt useless to you. He had continued to fuck you through the rushing release, your mind content to allow him to do so since you were all caught up with trying to calm your racing heart down along with your erratic breathing.

For that you heard him grunt and pull his hand away from your back as did his thrusting coming to a stop once he felt your thighs jerking around his waist. You wondered why he stopped as you blinked yourself out of the drunken-like haze that was your paradise; you may have been a little muddled from the way he made you cum but you knew he hadn’t cummed then. You got your answer when he pulled back from you and let you lie your back more against the wall, his dark eyes briefly watching your chest move with your fast breathing before rising back to your lusted-out expression. He waited until you weren’t breathing as hard and then his hands were falling back to grasp both your hips after returning his weapon to his back, his voice deadly calm as he regarded you.

“Did you just cum?”

You rolled your shoulders, sighing whenever he rose a dark eyebrow and waited for you to explain yourself, “Mmm, yes, just – keep going –”

He cut you off, a dumbfounded expression on his face as his eyes darted around your face, “Are you sure…?”

You wanted to sigh. So much for not breaking character. You indulged him with a breathy noise, tightening your thighs around his waist and flexing your cunt around his cock, “Yes, now – keep going… Be mean and… y’know. Unless I have to do all the work again…” you trailed off, a mischievous ploy in your words you hoped spurred him on.

His fingers tightened up on your hips, feeling your cunt flutter around him once more as his jaw clenched. And somehow, you found yourself on your feet confused for a moment… Like he’d moved too fast for you to actually follow…

“Um…” And it was a brief few seconds before your mind caught up with your body.

Kento had pulled himself out of you and gently dropped you to stand level on the ground. You let out an indignant noise in response before trying to find your way back onto his cock, but in another display of his strength he had turned you around, your chest and cheek pressed against the brick and your hands lying flat against it as well. Your back ended up bent in that position as he pulled your hips back into and you were bouncing on his awaiting cock once more. The new position had you moaning louder, his own hissing exhale from how deep he went in and slid in so easily from how wet you were following right behind you as he started up a pace.

There was no chance to gather your thoughts, Kento’s behavior was bordering on losing control as he pressed his weight onto you and pinned you hard to the wall. His mouth found its way to your ear again, breath hot in your ear as he started off his depraved words for you and you alone to hear.

“It was your loud mouth that attracted their attention,” he gravelly started, one hand on your hip leaving as two fingers found your swollen and sensitive clit, “What is it? Can’t even keep yourself quiet even when you got something in your mouth? Or was it you couldn’t find the words to tell me you wanted to cum?”

You couldn’t form an answer to that, too engrossed with the pleasure he was giving you into your still sensitive and gushing cunt while simultaneously rubbing away at your clit in a fast pace. What you managed was a whining noise, fucking back onto his cock as his fingers slowed down on your clit and held off your new rapidly approaching orgasm. You nearly wanted to cry out in frustration from his ridiculous self-control, yet you were branching out on another cry whenever his fingers molded themselves into your hips with a quick pull backwards onto his cock.

You squealed, pressing your breasts harder into the wall as he started back up into your ear again. "Focus. Tell me what you want.”

“I want – mmm God, I want –”

He squeezed your hips, his own smacking loudly against your ass before a thumb found its way into your mouth and his teeth latched onto your earlobe before repeating himself again, “Say it. Tell me how much you want me to cum inside of you. Tell me how much you want me to cum and how you’ll barely be able to hold it inside of you. Tell me you want me to fuck my cum into you. Tell me how much you want to be a good girl for me.”

He was commanding you then, your eyes squeezing shut in tune to how your pussy clenched around him to his sinful words. The cutting edge to them told you that he was leaving you no room to even try and escape from answering him, your toes curling inside of your boots when he picked up his thrusts and huffed heatedly against your cheek.

Your whines were airy, face feeling flustered as you heeded his order, “Please, Kento, I’ll do anything – I want you to cum inside of me so bad –”

You cut yourself off when his fingers left your clit, thinking perhaps he was giving you what you wanted until that hand came down onto your ass in a resounding slap. You lurched forward from it, biting your lip trying to muffle a load moan as your pussy gushed more around his cock and the slippery sounds of your two’s debauchery grew louder in the alleyway. Your body felt like mush then, legs shaking under his form as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“More.”

You could nearly feel the exasperated tears well up in your eyes, nails scratching at the brick and legs spreading wider for him as he bent your body down further and his fingers found your clit once more. Kento started up his teasing circles, chest heaving into your back as you tried once more in a shaky voice to appease his commands, “I want you to ruin me, fuck me dumb like a slut and can only think of you.”

You could feel his brow furrow against the side of your face, sweat lining in with yours as his hips picked up in a dangerous smacking with his balls following in pursuit to slapping into your pussy and clit as his fingers picked up the speed on your clit. Your eyes nearly rolled when you felt yourself falling back into your second release, gasping moans leaving your parched mouth as he grew desperate and started groan into your cheek. It spurned you on, you wanted to push him further to get him to act out more.

“I want you to fuck me so hard and cum in me so much there’s no way that I’m not pregnant. Come on, Kento –” you broke off in a heated moan, sweaty forehead grinding into the brick as you continued to babble whatever he possibly wanted to hear to get him and yourself to cum. "Fuck me till I'm pregnant – please – cum in me as much as you want until your baby's in me –"

His fingers pushed harder onto your clit, a white-hot burst behind your eyelids as you felt him teeter into a breakneck speed into your cunt. It nearly stopped you from getting the rest of your sentence out, but you managed to gasp it out you finally entered the throes of your second orgasm.

You couldn’t take it.

His fingers felt too good on your swollen clit, his cock so fucking hot and thick inside of you as it jutted into your deepest region, everything just fucking smelling like him, your brain churning into pure depravity as you listened to him groan and grunt as he increased his pace, your lower abdomen pulling and stretching out so far, and holy fucking shit –

You were sure what you garbled out was a variation of his name, but you weren’t too sure considering you were preoccupied trying not to pass out.

You were definitely sure then if he hadn’t kept a firm hold of your hips you would’ve collapsed and slid down the wall and onto the ground from how bad your legs were shaking. You didn’t necessarily care either when you felt a small dab drool escape your mouth around his thumb as you were too busy fighting off the aftershocks of your orgasm. That one was the most intense; your world – and your cunt – bursting like a champagne bottle when struck your entire body like a lightning strike. If you weren’t so needy to hear him cum you would’ve let your mind fall deep into the endorphins being given to you and tickling your body all the way down to your toes, your muscles and bones feeling like they had been liquefied and going numb.

The way he was still fucking you was on the frontlines of your thoughts, your body bouncing back and forth from the tenacity of his thrusts as your insides constricted and throbbed around him to help meet his own end. You didn’t have to wait long though as the mere feeling of you cumming around his cock pushed him over the edge, both hands on your hips tugging you backwards for one fierce thrust to let himself find your deepest point in the hot, mind-blowing pleasure that was your cunt and meet his end.

“Fuck!”

His body twitched behind you as his hands dug deeper into your flesh before he started to erratically jerk inside of you in slower strokes as his cum spurted out of him. Your eyes spun back and you moaned again when you felt the warm spurts of his cum shoot inside of your awaiting cunt and literally stuff you full to point you were sure you wouldn’t be able hold all of his cum within you. It nearly felt as if he never was going to stop, the new heat in your pussy sliding down throughout the inside of you. You could feel from the thick girth of the liquid passing through your cervix and into your wombs as Kento’s hips rocked slowly with each new spray into you until finally he came to a full stop with his cock sitting snugly inside of you to hold all of his cum in your cunt for the time being.

It was a few moments more longer as you both gathered your breath and bearings before he was slowly sliding out of you, his hands releasing you after one final squeeze and gliding across your ass, then completely leaving your body. After that he was spinning you around, hands finding your cheeks to angle your face towards him as he let his eyes roll over inch of your face and body.

“Are you alright?” Kento finally asked, voice still slightly breathy and face still flushed. His hair was even more messed up than before, his shirt wrinkled and you noticed his tie was still wrapped around his fist. He had tucked himself back into his pants and in those few moments you had been shaking against the wall, and you wiggled whenever you blinked into more clarity and he was pulling your skirt back down to shield your modesty.

You grinned dopily up at him, leaning further into him as you stuck your nose into his collarbone, “I’ve never felt better.”

“I didn’t hurt you?” he questioned again, a tilt of concern in his voice whenever you nearly stumbled into him.

“Absolutely not,” you mumbled and wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug, “I would’ve told you if you did.”

He sighed wrapping an arm around your waist and checking his watch whenever he noticed the sun beginning to set, “The Farmer’s Market is probably over by now.” Why did he sound somewhat melancholic?

(Of course, leave it to Nanami Kento to be upset he couldn't go to the Farmer's Market anymore after getting some pussy.)

You rolled your head upwards to study his face, an eyebrow cocking as he looked devilishly handsome in the oncoming sunset, “Are you still worried about that?”

Kento looked back to you, eyebrows knitting together as he started to walk you both of out the alley, “I’m only saying that because you were the one whining whenever I dropped the basket.”

“You didn’t drop it, you slapped a curse with it and then threw it at another one. Besides… not too worried about it since I got something else in the end.”

“Hmm.”

“C’mon, you know you liked it too. Especially when I told you to put –”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Especially since I’m not done with you yet.”

“What. I can barely feel my legs.”

“I know, and after I find my jacket and we report what happened to the school we’re going home where I’m, as you said, ‘putting another baby in you’.”

“Ugh, whatever, but since you get your jacket can I have my panties back, you freak.”

“No. They’re mine.”

“No way you’re gonna make me walk around with no panties on…”

“I am and –”

He slapped your ass again, causing you to jolt and squeal as he leant down and whispered in your ear again as you laughed.

“A single drop of me better not come out of you until we get home.”

[crepezinhos]

Patriarchy

POV: Waking up back to the 1700s wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be when you had your best friend, Phainon, accompanying you through your new journey. Now you have the chance to begin feminism yourself! How much more advanced will society be if manage to get women equal rights by 1800 instead of 1900?! But, when you were close to getting one right in specific, Phainon’s support of you was suddenly… gone.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a Yandere SFW work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Possessive, obsessive and abusive behavior, a bit of physical abuse, misogynistic behavior and confinement.

— Arranged!Phainon x Arranged!Reader

— AU is: 1700s Europe

“Y/N! You’re back!” Phainon screamed excitedly from the main staircase of your shared palace when he saw you standing in your mansion’s entrance, beginning to step down towards you faster than he was doing previously. “How was it on the streets today?” He asked when he finally finished climbing down and jumped off the stairs, walking towards you with his arms behind his back excitedly.

You, happy to see him too, were quick to take off your hat, jacket and accessories with the help of your lady-in-honor, staring back at Phainon’s joyful ocean-blue eyes.

“It was fine. The army resistance was surprisingly very little today so we didn’t have much trouble doing our protest.” You reciprocated his excitement, bowing to your maid in gratefulness before she could start walking away and taking your things back to your bedroom.

“That’s great to hear, Y/N!” Phainon replied, eyes shining with pure admiration of your courage. “I also have good news.” He blinked to you with a smirky grin in his lips, just waiting for you to ask him about his achievement so he could brag about whatever he’d done.

“Oh? What is it?” You crossed your arms casually, finally putting an end to the classy and formal behavior that you adapted to to follow the societal norms of the town where you two live in.

Phainon decided to fix his throat and tie before he could answer you, trying to make himself a bit more classy and snobby before flexing whatever news he had.

“Our pads and tampons are making such a huge success that one of my investors managed to begin trading our products with all North, Central and South America.” Phainon talked in a slightly sarcastic tone, obviously trying to exaggerate it to you so you could be extra happier with it.

“Are you serious?! No way! All three Americas at the same time?!” You gasped in shock, almost skipping in joy while imagining what would be all kinds of women trying out those items and finding out just how extraordinarily better they are than whatever they were currently using to absorb their menstruations.

“Yessir!” Phainon opened both his arms,welcoming all that joy you were expressing.

Every day, Phainon somehow managed to surprise you with good news and raise your spirits about your current life whether it was because of his mindless kindness and consideration of you or with his intelligent marketing skills. You admired him so much that you didn’t even like imagining what would your life be without him in this universe. You’d probably just find yourself marrying an old man who has zero interest or empathy with you, much less in your feminist ideals, and only gives you the bare minimum attention to keep you sane.

The difference between all men and Phainon is that you and him were modern. While other men thought with a non-industrial mindset of making a few thousands for profit, Phainon, who has lived with billionaires, thinks immediately about the millions he can profit because he knows exactly what to invest in. And while other women were mostly illiterate and solely worried with things like their marriage and birthing dozens of kids for their husbands, you were worried about ‘men things’ such as the job market and human progress and you had knowledge about all sorts of things. Because of this, you two were an extremely powerful duo. Your success was sudden, massive and impressive, leaving every man and woman from all social classes either inspired or envious. You two reigned everything. Either your or Phainon’s presence was highly valued in every party you stepped in, whether as an annoyance, taking everyone’s eyes away from the main objective of the ball, or as a blessing, since your presence meant that the party was entertaining.

After all, whatever the perfect couple interacts with or believes in, many others will want to interact with it or follow your beliefs too.

Yes, you and Phainon were technically a couple that got married a few months ago, but in practice, you two didn’t even sleep in the same room. It was an arranged business that you two agreed to do because women cannot really live without a husband and neither you or Phainon wanted you to be bullied for the rest of your life, so joining family, money and forces was obviously the smartest choice. You two had a little wedding and a marriage certification, but no kiss was ever seen after the fake one in the altar.

Your ‘marriage’ was actually one of the first triggers to awaken women into feminism. It was completely alternative. You weren’t forced to display affection with him publicly, you had all rights to complain and raise your voice to Phainon, Phainon had zero demands to you regarding his satisfaction with his life or kids, while at the same time he’d spoil you nonstop. It made women crave that freedom from their husbands, who all thought you were a greedy witch and that Phainon deserved better. But there was nothing they could do about it. His money reigned the country. So much that it made this sinful way of life of yours affordable and even cultural. It’s not his fault he know as exactly what inventions will be successful or not, but he’ll only keep growing, and whatever you two do will be what people want to do too. ‘His’ idea about creating tampons and pads was actually a request from you. Using random, non-absorbing cloths as pads was horrible and barely efficient, making your routine horrible during menstruation, so you decided to talk to Phainon about it, who immediately went after the creation of tampons and pads. A perfect example of how you two were iconic. Phainon already knew tampons and pads would be an immediate millionaire success, and all women envied the dedication of your husband to you compared their own men.

There is so much Phainon has done to you… He gave you a whole personal room for you to sleep in without him, a whole garden that had all the flowers you wished, he bought you all the dresses and makeup you wanted and every reform and furniture of the house was ordered by you. It felt like his life mission was assuring you a comfortable, almost free life, but it still felt incomplete to you because of one reason. The inferiority of women. Seeing women being sent away at age of 15 to marry a 40 year-old man made your heart ache with anguish. Seeing men shame prostitutes for their jobs and even throw tiny rocks on them made you angry. Seeing men’s hypocrisy to force women into a religion and a cult of purity that they don’t follow on their own made your blood boil… A much larger list of failures in this patriarchal system made you revolt, so you begun using your influence and money to create feminism.

And your ideas were expectedly booming between all women of your country, and Congress was slowly becoming more and more convinced that it wouldn’t be horrible idea to give women a few rights.

“I know I’m awesome, I know.” Phainon used a hand to push his frontal hair back to act even prouder of himself in front of you.

“We’re making so much progress in so little time! I can’t believe we are the first era of feminists and we’re turning out to be so successful!” You tip-toed in the floor, holding your own cheeks with excitement.

“We? No, no, no… you.” Phainon’s fingers suddenly reached to your chest bone and pressed it down, forcing all the credits for the success of the feminist movement to you. “And a lady like you deserves a delicious meal in compensation for her work, don’t you think?” He took away his finger off you, but his face leaned a bit closer to you too, staring at you deeply with admiration. “Follow me, Y/N.” He blinked a bit seductively, making you giggle, and when you looked down, his hands was hanging open in front of you just waiting for you to hold it.

And so you did, inflating your chest with air to show him your excitement and how high were your expectations. Phainon giggled at your behavior, beginning to gently pull you around the house.

You and Phainon silently walked in direction of the dinging room, only a few noises of creaking wood accompanying your steps. The silence wasn’t awkward, only a bit tense due to the circumstances you were in. Every corridor you two walked through, the house would become quieter and darker despite still being early afternoon. Your dining room was in a corner of the house where no background noise could annoy you and him, meaning it was distant from the home’s main entrance. And when you had finally reached the long, dark and narrow hall that led to nothing but the dining room in its end, Phainon decided to break the silence.

“You also have a second appointment today, don’t you? Or maybe tomorrow? Or maybe it already happened?” Phainon turned half of his face to you, staring at you with curiosity.

“A second appointment? I don’t—” Before you could finish speaking, your brain suddenly brought back a memory of you and some of your friends talking about future plans and played it for you.

It was you, Ms. Castorice and Ms. Algaea, the other two co-leaders of your movement, discussing about some great news in Aglaea’s mansion. Congress had accepted to participate in a debate with you and a team of other 5 people about giving women a few rights. You and them were discussing about which topics to bring up, which people to form a team with, and when should the debate happen.

“Cat got your tongue?” Phainon woke you up from your thoughts, laughing at your frozen face and still staring at it now with a mischievous stare.

“I do!” You snapped the fingers of your other free hands. “I-I have to go to Congress by 6 tonight!” Phainon’s eyes widened when you reminded him of what appointment was scheduled for today or maybe sometime else.

“Ah, yes!” Phainon stopped walking and let your hand go. “You were telling me about your plans for it a few days ago!” He pointed to you with a hand, trying to relate to you.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’ve prepared such good arguments to tell the Congress! It’ll be very difficult for them for them to deny our requests, much less with a good reason!” You crossed your arms again, remembering the expectations you had set. “Can you imagine? By tomorrow we might get the right to divorce! Women will get the right to divorce!” Phainon’s eyes widened when he felt the impact of those news.

“Seriously? The right to divorce this early?!” His mouth dropped to the floor as you confidently nodded to him.

“Yessir! We might finally be able to ask for a divorce too!” You laughed at your own additional words, but you quickly realized that Phainon went fully quiet while you were, so you stopped laughed and looked him, only to see he did not reciprocate, still with the same widened expression in his face, but his mouth was not smiley anymore.

“What do you mean?” He asked a bit confused.

“Me and you… Getting a divorce…” You pointed to him and you as you spoke, then you put your hands together only to separate them, representing what divorce was.

But Phainon’s expression turned horrified and almost pale when you separated your hands from each other, apparently taking it as a genuine offense.

“Why..?” His eyebrows frowned, looking as you worried.

“Well.. because we aren’t exactly married… This is all just for survival, remember?” You laughed a bit to try cooling him off, but Phainon’s expression only seemed to sadden even more.

“But… we’re fine together, aren’t we? We’re surviving really well, aren’t we? So why would you want to divorce?” Phainon stepped closer to you once, and this hall started to feel like it’d became narrower.

“W-Well, yeah, we’re doing good, but if I get women the right to divorce and to work independently, I won’t need you anymore… I mean, we were not doing this back in Amphoreus for a reason…” You laughed it off again, but then his hurt expression and silence made you realize you shouldn’t be giving him any reasoning. “What’s going on, Phainon?” You darkened your expression, trying to get straight to the point.

“I’ve been a good husband, haven’t I? I’ve made you happy all this time, haven’t I?” Phainon now sounded visibly anxious, breath almost hitching as he slowly stepped closer and closer to you, forcing you to repel and step backwards.

“Yeah, Phainon, but you’re not actually my husband. No need to call yourself one…” You laughed at his words, not sympathizing with his worry. “This is all an act for us to survive in this society, remember? There is no actual love or dependence between us or anything…” Phainon’s eyes widened with that last phrase as if you said something that just crushed his heart.

“W-What..?” Phainon’s cute puppy eyes stared at you with dying hope, but you still didn’t feel the slightest pity for him.

“Phainon, seriously, what the fuck is going on?” You decided to step forward this time, setting your ground for him to understand he was almost disrespecting your space.

Phainon didn’t answer you at first, only reluctantly staring at your eyes with his shaky blue pupils. It costed him quite a while to build courage to be truthful with you, gulping down his accumulated saliva and turning his head down to avoid the shame of what he has in his mind.

“I… I don’t want a divorce.” His confession came out as loud as a whisper, which made you not understand what he said initially and forced you to guess it.

Jointing the few syllables you’ve heard and assuming the words and articles he’d said with the help of context clues, you’d concluded he’d said ‘I don’t want a divorce’, which immediately triggered you to have a negative reaction. But you still remained quiet, trying to comprehend why would he want to stay married to you. Maybe he’s afraid to live without a wife in this rigid society? But he’s a man… You are the one supposed to be afraid of living without a husband. Or maybe he’s thinking about that? About your safety and comfort living in this society without a husband? Or maybe… that alternative you’ve been avoiding to recognize ever since the day of your ‘marriage’..?

…

No, it can’t be. He would never.

So you just sighed, throwing that thought to the back of your and concluding your investigation. Phainon did not want a divorce, and he doesn’t want it because he’s worried about you.

“You don’t a want a divorce?” You firmly queried, trying to have a bit of confirmation over your guess, a hand of yours moving to the necklace you wore to fidget it while he answered.

“Yes…” He mumbled shyly and you scoffed in pride of having guessed it correctly, still not understanding why was he be acting like this if his intentions were so pure.

“Why?” You inflated your chest again, preparing for whatever he wanted to say now.

“Because…” He tried to answer your question immediately, but the knot in his throat impeded him from finishing. “Because…” And he tried again, a bit less desperately, failing so miserably he looked down to the floor again in embarrassment.

And so, you exhaled, letting all that imprisoned air in your lungs in a sigh. Since he couldn’t say it for himself, you’d do it for him.

“I appreciate your worry for my comfort, Phainon, but I can definitely live on my own. I don’t care about what these people have to say about me and my choices. In fact, they can feel free to bully me as much as they want, I’ll still be milking more money than them in the end of the day.” You spoke less firmly, trying to see if that would make him feel comfortable to be more honest with you. “I can’t even guarantee that we will get the right to divorce in the first place anyway…” You tried to be a bit more optimistic, but then you immediately regretted it in recognition that it is needed to be realistic in a situation like this. “But I’ll still go to Congress today and fight for it. For me and all the women that need to get away from their husbands.” You could see Phainon swallowing another big chunk of saliva when you finished talking, surprisingly having a negative reaction again.

“For you? Why you?” Phainon stepped closer once again, face only becoming more stunned, which truly disturbed you.

“You’re scaring me, Phainon.” You brought your shoulders closer to your body, trying to make yourself more resistant and tolerable to his behavior.

“I don’t mean to scare you, Y/N… I just want to know why do you want a divorce when we’re so happy together…” He tried to argue in a way that still didn’t reveal his reason, but seeing how unmoved and suspicious you still were of him, he sighed and squinted his eyes. “I don’t want a divorce…” He stated his intentions again, but in a weak tone that made him sound like a hungry puppy, trying to make you feel guilty.

And that pissed you off. You believed Phainon was genuinely not trying to intentionally manipulate you into staying married him, but he was still acting unreasonably.

“But I do.” You countered him firmly. “And I will get it.” You wanted to turn away and immediately walk back to your room, but the moment you spun your right foot, before you could even start about turning your full body away from him, Phainon reacted to your words.

“No, you won’t..!” The tone of his voice deepened in such a rapid way that made you stop and look back at his eyes immediately, a sense of danger growing in the back of your mind.

“Yes, I will.” Feeling even more cornered by the hall’s tightness and afraid of Phainon, you decided to turn away abruptly in a speed that would stun Phainon for a moment before he could possibly catch you and bring you back to the discussion.

“Where are you going..?!” You heard Phainon stomp forward harshly, launching himself forward to reach your wrist and hold you tight with his large hand.

“Let me go, Phainon.” You decided to turn your eyes back to his again, trying to use your presence to order him, forcing yourself to control your voice from shaking as you spoke, taking his action as a threat to your security.

“Why are you trying to leave..? Why are you trying to leave me?!” His eyes were fully widened with anguish as he desperately filled you with two questions to answer.

“I’m just… not hungry anymore. I’ll eat later.” You quickly mumbled a fake reasoning, but it didn’t seem to convince him. After all, Phainon’s eyebrows noticeably frowned.

“That’s not true. Why are you lying to me..?” His grip in your wrist tightened in a way that made you grunt from the pain.

“Phainon, you’re hurting me..!” You tried to pull your hand away from him, only to be fully held back, which only made you even more nervous and scared of him.

“I don’t want us to divorce, Y/N… We don’t need a divorce…” He suddenly turned a bit soft again, endlessly trying to argue with you about that despite the fact that he was really freaking you out.

“I-I need to prepare for Congress, Phainon..! Let me go at this instant!” You even tried stepping away from him, seeing if it was possible to run away, but it didn’t work due to his heavy weight holding you back.

“No…” He mumbled, looking the deepest he could to your eyes, still trying to find any bit of pity in you and hope for himself.

“You’re only giving me more reasons to divorce you right now, Phainon..! Let me go now!” You had no choice but to try facing him with your own strength, now trying to use your other hand to grab that wrist of his to pull it away from you.

“No… We can’t divorce…” His repetitiveness finally made you snap.

“Yes we can and we will!” You launched your face forward and screamed at him, trying to shake your hand out of his grip the fullest you could.

But that triggered him snap too in reaction to your audacity in making such a hurtful statement.

“NO, WE WON’T!” He screamed at a tone that you’ve never heard from him and didn’t recognize, also finally releasing your wrist.

But before you give your first step backward, or think about his change in tone, something else stunned you again.

SLAP!

Your body immediately fell to the ground as Phainon’s hand smacked across your face, your feet enrolling themselves with the thick layers of your dress, giving your instincts time to only put your palms in the wooden floor before your head actually hit the ground, meaning you successfully landed sat instead of fully laid. But you recovered a second after the fall, so you immediately placed a hand on the cheek Phainon had slapped to ease the arduous pain he inflicted on you and rose your head up to him, finding him powerfully standing right in front of you, staring at you like a caught prey, jailed in a cage.

Neither of you spoke for the next seconds to process what had just happened and only breathed with opened mouths. The more you thought, the more frightened for your life you became, remembering the sudden change in his tone to one you’ve never heard, the slap itself and the threat it represented to your relationship… But the more he thought, the more calm he became in realization that you were frozen in fear, defeated by his action. And that’s why after a last round of breathing in and out deeply, he shut his mouth and calmly walked closer to you, kneeling down in front of you.

“Y/N…” A hand of his also reached the same cheek you were holding, cupping it gently, which only made your skin shiver with disgust of his touch, begging yourself to scream at him to get the fuck away from you. “I’m… I-I’m sorry…” He briefly wheezed, trying to ease the both of you from the mood. “I didn’t mean to… do this… or… t-to scare you.” He pathetically smiled at you, only making you wish to run away from him even more, but your adrenaline could only afford to freeze your body in that sat position. “I just… don’t want us to divorce… There’s no good reason to do that… That’s all…” He gulped down again.

You knew it. Deep down, you’ve always known it. You just didn’t want to admit it.

But maybe… you should’ve definitely talked to him about it sooner.

Phainon’s kindness… was never just friendly.

And there were always many little signs that rose that flag…

For example, the way he’d stare at you whenever he gave you a gift, sometimes only a few inches away from your face, just waiting to see the amazing reaction he’d rip out of you. Deep down, it always felt like he urged for more of something you couldn’t name until now. It didn’t feel like he just wanted your comfort and happiness because that’s what friends do, it felt like he did it as if he was your lover. These little gifts, perfectly enveloped in a beautiful wrap, felt like little seduction attempts. After all, the next gift would always be better than the next, as if he wanted to show just how dedicated he is, and convince your heart to let yourself fall for him.

The way he treated you during the day of your marriage… In the altar, what was supposed to be just a quick smooch to pose a fake picture of yourselves to the crowd witnessing you, turned out to be so much more touchy, intimate and even… real, like real couples do. And even when the vows were done, he kept throwing himself at you and holding your hands for the rest of the celebration party, for some reason so happy with the day. Friends don’t stick their tongues inside their friends’ mouths when it’s needed to fake a kiss. It wasn’t just an act.

And the one habit that mostly made you icky about thinking about Phainon’s possibly feeling things for you… The way his eyes stoned in you and his cheeks flushed whenever he saw you trying any ball dresses and makeup for the parties you were invited to or even when he saw you in your rendered pijamas when you two were home… They always delivered you a message of lust, and you don’t want any of your friends to lust over you, much less Phainon in such a situation like yours right now. But it was true, Phainon would not react to you being pretty like a friend would.

You should’ve accepted it sooner. But now it’s too late. You’ve let this grow. You are reaping what you sowed.

Phainon liked you as more than a friend.

“But think about it… Wouldn’t it be iconic? The leader of the feminist movement herself doing all of this work to get the right of divorce when she, on her own, does not desire to divorce her husband? You could show them that it is possible to be a feminist and be a married woman at the same time…” His thumb caressed your hand, lamenting that he couldn’t directly reach your fluffy cheek.

But you were still too stunned to say anything, despite the thousands of protests running in your mind, begging to be shouted.

“We are such a good duo… Why would you ever want to put and end to us? Put an end to our influence? Our impact? Our empire?” Phainon looked at you with more pity, assuming his position of total power over you. “We don’t need to be exactly like other couples… I would never force you to do that… We can still be exactly like how we are today, but all I want is to still be able to live in the same house as you… and call you my wife.” Phainon pulled that hand of yours that held your cheek and turned it around, making your palm face down.

And with very slow movements, he smooched your knuckles, smiling softly at them. And then he looked down at your fingers, meeting that engagement ring that the both of you were forced to wear to avoid any accusations or bullying, and that made his grin grow, blue eyes shining with joy. He leaned down and kissed the ring too with more intensity, sucking your skin for a bit to demonstrate just how much he valued that golden ring.

“I just want you to wear this ring with me for the rest of your life… Is that too much to ask from you? I’ve done so many harder things for you…” Phainon laid his cheek on your hand, rubbing himself against it as if it was the comfiest pillow he’d ever laid on.

He kept doing that for a few seconds before he kissed your hand again… and then again… again, again and again, many spots in it becoming a bit moistened with his saliva. He even turned your hand around and begun kissing your palm and its heel as deep as he could.

“I love you, Y/N…” He mumbled in your skin with closed eyes, breath warming up your skin. “I really do…” He made sure his message was clearly sent to you, pausing for a moment to let you absorb it. “But I can’t let you do this to us… to me…” He opened his eyes, staring at you with a weird kind of pity again, as if he wasn’t bothered by your discomfort, like a masochist would.

But then he stood up again, not offering you any help to get up too.

“You won’t go to Congress today.” He stated a bit more seriously, contrasting his previous tone as he stared down at you very firmly, before he started to calmly walk away from the scene as if he hadn’t just done something completely absurd and out of normal.

Your eyes followed his body in fear, watching him walk with his hands holding each other behind his back ao elegantly, each step making the wood planks creak a bit. In the end of the hall, where you two came from, Phainon met one of your many maids standing still with an uncomfortable expression visible in her face, but still forcing herself to do her job as either your or his servant.

“If you see her trying to leave tonight, don’t let her. You understand?” Phainon spoke to the maid very gently, contrasting himself once again.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, assuming her new responsibility.

“Good. You may call me or the guards in the gate if that happens.” Phainon assigned the maid her permissions, making her nod again, but silently. “Go tell the other maids their new assignment.” He used to a hand to tap her shoulder twice very sweetly.

“Yes, my master.” She gently bowed to him again, making Phainon grin, feeling comfortable enough to keep walking away from the scene.

When he finally turned to the left and fully left you alone, the maid looked at you again, staring at your pitiful situation with mixed feelings. It was a silent communication, but you could still get her general message, the same way she could get yours.

After all the efforts you’ve been doing to push a feminist agenda in your town to all kinds of women and men, you’ve failed to do that in your own home with your own maids. The same women who were stuck in your palace, working 24/7 to keep every detail of your home perfect and make your routine as easy as possible, were neglected by you and your movement, just like how in real life some women were neglected from the early stages of feminism too. And now you were suffering the harshest consequences of it you could suffer. She pitied you and even seemed to wish she could do something for you, but all she was ever taught to do in this sort of job was obey the man’s command, meaning she’d betray her own beliefs and risk her whole career if she dared to think about helping you, which would be disobeying Phainon. So all she could do was give that silent treatment until she couldn’t bare her own grief anymore and begun to walk away in the same direction as Phainon did, beginning to call him by his nickname, her voice echoing in your ears lightly.

How could you forget? You live in a conservative patriarchy.

Phainon is the man in your relationship.

In conservative patriarchies, the man is always the leader. The woman is just his follower. A servant who is always mindlessly ready to please him.

And he likes this system the way it is.

Today he just made that very clear. The roles of the relationship were established.

Taglist: @gaboplaydespacito

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[roanofarcc]

LIKE MOTHER LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER

pairing. tyler owens x harding!reader - part 2!

summary. you had made a name for yourself in the storm chasing game; it was in your genes, being the daughter of famous chasers jo and bill harding. tyler found your knacked for knowing just what the storm’s thinking a little infuriating and incredibly impressive.

 warnings. fem!reader, reader gets injured, mentions of blood and injuries, probably inaccurate meteorological info & medical info, angst & fluff, some hurt/comfort on this fine Tuesday night.

word count. 3.7k || masterlist

a/n. twister has been my favorite movie FOREVER so here's a little homage to the og storm chasers <3

You were ten when you went storm chasing for the first time. Growing up, you’d heard your parents' stories every time there was a shift in the weather. Instead of the typical childhood fear of storms, you had always been fascinated by them; your dad, Bill Harding often joked it was in your genes, the lack of fear. With some light convincing of your mom, Dr. Jo Haring, she agreed to take you storm chasing for your tenth birthday. 

The twister had been small, barely an EF1, but it was wondrous. There was something dangerously beautiful about it that drew you in just as it had your parents when they were younger. From that point on, you knew you wanted to be just like them, chasing storms up and down Tornado Alley. 

And with the stubbornness passed down by your mom, that is exactly what you did. You were damn good at it to. 

“It’s lookin’ like a big one to the southeast,” a member of your team said, slugging an arm around your shoulder as she looked up at the sky, squinting slightly at the sun. “But the radar says we’ve got another brewin’ west. She's pickin’ up speed but it’s still developing.” 

You hummed in response, gazing up at the sky too, judging which one was your best bet by observing the clouds in either direction. “Let’s hang back and go for the one to the west, I like her chances better.” Your teammate, Frankie, grinned as she nodded and headed off toward the other three members of your small, but mighty team. 

As you waited for the storm to flesh out a little more, you sat on the bed of your truck, dangling your legs off of the tailgate. The fresh air filled your lungs and the faint smell of incoming rain brought a smile to your lips. Every time you got ready for a chase, you felt ten years old again, giddy and excited for the thrill of the storm. You thought back to the photo albums you’d looked at a hundred times over of your parents and their numerous storm-chasing adventures. They never pushed you into storm chasing, as it was a dangerous line of work, but from a very young age, it was clear that your fascination with storms wouldn’t be quelled with a simple meteorology degree and a job behind a desk. 

Storm chasing was in your blood, and your knack for it was known among other storm chasers. 

“Well, if it isn’t the doctor herself,” a familiar voice filled your ears, belonging to the one and only Tyler Owens. He approached your truck, hands on his hips and a certain cockiness that excited you. You liked a challenge, and you loved showing cowboys up. Tyler was good at what he did, but you were just a little bit better, and it both irritated and impressed him. 

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” you said, earning a light chuckle from him. 

“You don’t look in a hurry. That storm to the southeast won’t last forever.” You shrugged and he narrowed his gaze just slightly. “You’re not going after that one, are you?” 

“Damn,” you sighed. “You’re getting harder to trick, Owens.”

He laughed, light and sweet. It was easy to see how he garnered such a large online audience. Tyler was easy on the eyes, drove straight into tornados with a grin on his lips, and had the knowledge of storms to back up his insane behavior. You’d never admit it aloud, but he did impress you, even if you thought some of his actions were reckless even for a storm chaser.

The two of you had an interesting rapport. It toes the line between rivals and friends, the odd territory in between. You loved teasing him, and he tried to outsmart you even if it never worked. 

“Maybe you’re getting too predictable,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Och.” You faked hurt, placing a hand over your heart. “What is it you always say? If you feel it, chase it. If you think the one to the southeast is gonna show her face, go for it.” 

Tyler studied you for a moment, contemplating what kind of game you were playing with him. All you did was smile at him in return, which led him to roll his eyes. “Unfortunately, you’re rarely wrong,” he sighed. 

“It’s a blessing and curse.” 

“You’re impossible,” he said. “But the west it is. It better not let me down, Dr. Harding.” You only used that title in more professional settings. That had been a condition of your mother. She had gotten her PhD and believed you could too. It was tough, but you earned it; only, you didn’t expect some cowboy to use it to lightly mock you when you proved him wrong.

“You have my word,” you said. 

And you were right. The storm to the west produced a beautiful tornado. You and Frankie got close while the rest of your team hung back. Rain pelted the windshield as you grew closer, watching the dark funnel tear through the expanse of fields, picking up speed on the ground. Somewhere along the way, Tyler’s unmistakable red truck ripped past you, heading into the heart of the twister, which you rolled your eyes at. 

“She’s a beauty!” Frankie hollered, holding her camera at the ready. 

It was a great chase, but the thing about tornados that was both thrilling and dangerous was their unpredictability. You knew the storm would be big, and the closer you grew the more power you saw that it had. The other truck carrying the rest of your team had communicated the growing intensity of the storm via the radio. But it looked to be on a steady path west, so you saw no issue tailing it while Frankie snapped pictures.

The rain only grew heavier and heavier, almost completely obstructing your view. It wasn’t until a tree crash landed directly in the middle of the road did you realize the tornado had changed directions suddenly. A startled scream torn from Frankie lips and you slammed on the breaks, narrowly missing the tree. 

“Holy shit,” she whispered, leaning up against the dash and trying to see through the rain wrap. “It’s right there. It’s right there! We gotta go!” 

You quickly threw your truck in reverse and backed up, but you didn’t get far. A lone semi that had been traveling skidded to a stop just a couple hundred feet behind you. The way they had stopped at the sight of the tornado left its trailer sideways across the road before it was abandoned by the figure hunkering down in the ditch that lined the backroad. 

You hissed under your breath, trapped between two objects and a tornado that shook your truck. There wasn’t enough space to fly around the semi. The ditches on either side of the road were too deep to take quickly and another minute trying to maneuver around the semi would only lead to your truck getting swallowed by the storm, picked up, and tossed around like a rag doll. 

Your parents had prepared you for a kind of situation like that, but that didn’t shake your panic. With a rapidly beating heart, you put the truck in park and yelled at Frankie to get out. You both stepped out into the storm as the tornado loomed closer and closer. Wind whipped all around you along with debris. You grabbed Frankie’s hand and together you sprinted toward the ditch. 

Frankie lay on her stomach, and you lay beside her, covering her head the best that you could. Whatever happened, you had always told yourself your teammates' safety came first. You were the one who talked them into storm chasing with you. So, when danger arose, you felt the responsibility of keeping them safe. 

The screeching of winds was so loud in your ears that it almost disoriented you enough to miss the sharp piece of debris that swooped down at the tornado that passed along the field just opposite of the ditch, not directly over top of you but much too close for comfort. Something smacked against the back of your head, but you closed your eyes and held onto Frankie in hope of shielding her from any other flying objects. 

You weren’t sure how long you two lied there, but it felt like a lifetime until the tornado traveled further away. The winds died down but your heart beat stayed quickly pounding against your chest. 

Sitting up, you felt the sharp sting settling in the back of your head, but you ignored it at the sight of Frankie’s cut leg. 

“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing her knee to examine the clean slice down the back of her shin. 

She wiped back the wet pieces of her hair and let out a shuttered breath. “Holy shit, that was crazy.” You pulled off your sweatshirt and wrapped the wet fabric around her shin. “What’re you doing?” 

“You’re bleeding.” 

“It’s fine,” she said, trying to brush it off, but you heard the pain in her voice, along with the tremble of lingering fear at your close call. You knew the dangers of storm chasing and the possibilities of injuries, but it always felt different to you when it was a member of your team, one of your friends. 

A couple minutes after you tied your sweatshirt around her shin and helped her up from the ditch, the truck carrying the rest of your teammates rolled up, hooting and hollering at the size of the storm until they saw the state the two of you were in. 

“Take her back to the motel. If the bleeding doesn’t stop take her to the hospital.” Frankie opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off. “I’m serious.” 

“What about you?” another member of your team asked. 

You looked down the road at your overturned truck, sighing sadly to yourself as the pain in the back of your head throbbed. “I’ve gotta call someone for my truck. I’ll meet you back at the motel later.” 

They were hesitant to leave you but eventually agreed. Down the debris-littered road, you hobbled back to your truck. It had been a gift from your parents after you graduated college; it was special to you, but it was totaled thanks to the tornado. 

With a groan, you heaved open the door and tried to gather your belongings, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You staggered backward, reaching up to touch the tender spot on the back of your head. Something wet coated your fingers and when you pulled your hand back, it was painted red. Frustrated, you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself down enough to find your cell phone. Unfortunately, the cut was a little worse than you wanted to admit, and you felt blood drip down the back of your neck. 

Dizzily, you sat down on the road, blinking back the pain and wooziness. A slow creep of panic started to take hold as the pain intensified and the world started to spin just slightly. 

With one hand placed firmly on the back of your head, you rubbed your temple with your other, trying to think clearly but it became increasingly more difficult. You missed the hum of an engine nearby, but a slam of a door startled you. 

“Harding!” Someone yelled and you blinked slowly, keeping a hold on the back of your head as you looked up to see Tyler Owens bee-lining right toward you. He kneeled in front of you, brows furrowed and lips pulled in a small frown. “Hey, are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, once again trying to push away the dizziness that plagued you. “I’m, uh, just looking for my phone. I gotta call someone for my truck.” The words felt heavy in your mouth, which couldn’t be a good sign. Whatever struck the back of your head hit it hard and the blood that leaked from the wound wasn’t helping. 

He studied you for a moment, his gaze landing on your hand pressed against the back of your head. “You hurt?” You started to shake your head, but that only caused little black dots to temporarily pepper your vision. Tyler wasn’t an idiot; he reached up and carefully pushed your hand back, stopping when he saw the blood that started to drip down your arm. He cursed under his breath and yelled something at whoever sat in the passenger seat of his truck. 

“Hey.” His voice became soft, comforting even. “We’ve gotta get you to a hospital.” 

“I’m fine,” you inisted, even though every thing you felt inside your body proved that to be untrue. You just hated not being able to do something yourself; you hated needing help. Your father said you interited that from your mother, while she said you got it from your father. Truth was, they both had their air of stubbornness and you was born with double. 

Tyler shook his head. “No, you’re not.” He stood to his feet and gently tugged on your arm in an attempt to help you stand. Begrudgingly, you let him help you. Standing up, the world spun faster and you felt panic swell uncomfortably in your chest. You swayed catching yourself on Tyler’s arms as they grabbed your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he said. Maybe it was your slightly disoriented state, but his assurance and hands firmly holding onto your arms made some of your panic recoil. As much as you wanted to be okay, you knew that was not the case. 

He knew that too, and helped you into the passenger seat of his truck before he instructed one of his fellow Wranglers to keep pressure on the back of your head with whatever they could find in the backseat. You winced as a crumbled up shirt was held against your head, but the moving truck overwhelmed you with dizziness that made the physical pain of your wound the least of your worries. You didn’t want to pass out but your eyes felt heavy. 

Tyler noticed it too, and placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. “You gotta stay with me, okay? You gotta stay awake.” 

“M’trying,” you muttered. 

“You were right about the storm,” he said. “But aren’t you always?” 

A pained smile fell across your lips. “Was that a compliment?” 

He laughed, driving quickly down the road with one hand gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah. You’re hard to say something bad about. You know your stuff, better than me, that’s for sure.” 

“My parents taught me,” you said, desperately trying to keep yourself consciousness, but it grew more difficult by the minute. 

“Do they still chase?” he asked. 

“Not much anymore. Sometimes if a storm’s close, they’ll take a drive. But they always say they’ve had their fun.” They also said they shared enough close calls to know it was time to hang it up. You know they worried you’d find yourself in one too, but you’d always been careful and rarely got yourself into a situation you couldn’t get out of, until now, that was. 

Darkness encroached on your vision, threatening to force your eyes closed. Some the backseat, you heard one of the Wrangles call Tyler’s name. He turned his head, but you couldn’t see the concerningly red-soaked shirt that made his stomach churn and caused him to press down on the gas harder. Your head lulled to the side and your eyes fluttered close. Vaguely, you heard Tyler call your name and felt him shake your knee, but you couldn’t open your eyes or open your mouth. Everything fell dark. 

-- 

Tyler had spent his fair share of time in hospitals. He’d been bucked off a bull more than once, resulting in his mother dragging him to the hospital and threatening to make him quit. Eventually she held to her threat when he shattered his nose and gained a nasty concussion. 

Being at the hospital for himself was one thing, being there for you made him realize why his mother used to be drenched in worry. He nervously drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair in the hospital room. You were asleep, a fresh bandage wrapped around your head and with a minor concussion. The cut on the back of your head required a couple stitches; you were lucky, all things considered, but Tyler really hated seeing you like that. 

To him, you’d always been unreal. A second generation storm chaser so accomplished. Not only did you know your stuff, it was clear how much you enjoyed it. You lit up at the sight of storms, and Tyler couldn’t help but be in awe. There was a competitive nature to storm chasing and as much as he wanted to be annoyed by you always being two steps ahead of him, he couldn’t. He was just impressed. 

Tyler wasn’t sure how or when that admiration turned into something that teetered on affection, but it felt more than it had been before seated at your hospital bedside. He’d never felt his stomach drop like that before, when you passed out in his truck, Boone holding a bloodied shirt to you head. Even after the doctor said you’d be just fine, he felt on edge. 

The door to your room was pushed open by a nurse who led in two more people, who he instantly recognized: The Hardings. 

He stood up quickly and watched as your mom rushed to your side, brushing a hand across your cheek with a deep frown. “Oh, baby girl,” she sighed.  

The nurse offered your concerned parents a polite smile. “As the doctor said, the concussion was minor so all she need is some rest for the couple of days to a week. She should wake up soon and we'll see how she’s doing, then the doctor will let you know when she can be discharged.” 

You dad rubbed your mom’s back like he was trying to ease the heavy worry that shined in her face, but he too looked just as worried with a crease across his forehead. 

Tyler lightly cleared his throat, gaining your parents’ attention. "Hello, ma'am, sir," he greeted them.

“You must be the one who brought her in,” Jo said, and Tyler nodded in response. “Thank you. We’d been trying to call her, after we saw that storm, but she never answered and I…I just had a bad feeling.” 

Bill rubbed the light stubble on his chin. “No wonder she’s knocked out; I don’t think you’d get here otherwise. Stubborn, that kid.” 

A found smile spread across Tyler’s lips. “She kept saying she was fine until she nearly passed out on me. We only got a couple miles before she did pass out; scared the life out of me,” he said, running a stressed hand through his hair freed from his hat. The second you passed out in his truck, he nearly broke every traffic law. He wasn’t sure he’d never been quiet that scared, which was something he wasn't sure how to feel about.

Your mom furrowed her brows at Tyler’s words, something glinting behind her eyes until it shined in recognition. “You’re that storm chaser she’s always talkin’ about,” Jo said. “The one online.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Bill said, nodding in Tyler’s direction. He couldn’t tell if it was disdain or indifference in the man’s voice, but Tyler was too hung up on the fact that you talked about him to care much. He didn’t know that filled him with an odd sense of pride and warmth. You two weren’t exactly friends but you were more than acquaintances. It was more like a nice, workplace rivalry that he enjoyed a lot more than he’d admit. 

A small groan sounded from the bed, and everyone turned as your eyes fluttered open. Your mom was quick to your side, speaking quietly under the hum of fluorescent lights. 

You started to mumble something about your truck that Tyler couldn’t quite make out, but your dad seemed to understand immediately. He said he’d take care of it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he headed out into the hall with his cell phone in hand. 

Tyler felt like he overstayed his welcome; you were in better hands with your parents there. He collected his things from the chair, garnering your attention. 

“Tyler,” you said, pushing yourself to sit upright. “Thank you.” 

He smiled. “No problem, doctor. I couldn’t let one of the best chasers be out of the game, now could I?” 

“So you admit it? I’ve got you beat.” 

“I said one of,” he joked. “But you may have one or two legs up on me. Not for long though. I’ll catch up.” 

Something in your smile made him want to sigh in relief, but he held it back. “Not a chance.” 

“Then you better rest up; I’ll see you back out there.” 

Bonus!

It took a little longer for you to bounce back, but the second you felt like yourself again, you were right back at it. Morning was supposed to bright a slew of storms to Kansas, so you and your team hightailed it to the state, finding a cozy little motel already occupied by other storm chasers. You spotted Tyler’s truck instantly, followed by a strange turn of your stomach. 

You hadn’t seen him since you woke up in the hospital, slightly surprised that he stayed with you until your parents arrived. Since then, your mom had managed to bring him up at every opportunity, not so subtly hint at what a pair the two of you would be. You brushed her off, but a small part of you wondered what would happen if you hung around the cowboy a little more. 

“Look who’s back!” Tyler’s voice sounded the second you hopped out of Frankie’s beat-up but sturdy truck; you were saving up for a new one, something even nicer that you could doctor up for chasing. 

He approached you with a beaming smile, flashing his teeth. “I just couldn’t stay away,” you replied. “I didn’t miss anything too crazy, did I?” 

Tyler shook his head. “It seemed like mother nature saved the good ones for you. They’re talkin’ some big ones tomorrow.” The giddy feeling that accompanied storm filled your chest, and the company of Tyler heightened it, strange and new but not completely unwelcome. Maybe it was time you gave into his charm a little more.

[dearru]

princess treatment | a.miya

-> pairing: miya atsumu x gn!reader | sfw | cw: reader wears makeup, u guys r flirty asf, i wrote this in a trance so it’s not proofread | wc: 849 | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: doing your boyfriend’s makeup and the other things that follow…

“Tsumu! Stop squirming.” 

Your hand rests firmly on his jaw, keeping him still. Gripping the sharp ridge of his face for leverage, you carefully apply eyeliner along your boyfriend’s lid. Atsumu's breath is warm against you, and his cheeks are tinged pink from the blush you’d placed on him moments before. Beneath your grip, you feel him twitching against your rigid touch.

“But it feels weird.” He whines, twitching, fighting the urge to break free. Pouting, his eyes dart to yours. “Can’t believe ya roped me into doin’ this.” 

You giggle, repositioning yourself in his lap. The pen is poised in your hand as you lean in to continue your skillful strokes. His breath hitches as you do so, and you revel in the power you have over him. 

“Almost done.” You coo, “I swear.” 

Finishing the last touch of eyeliner, you hum in delight at your handiwork and reach across the way for gloss. Atsumu’s lips curl in disgust and he jerks his head away.  

“Yer not puttin’ that on me.” 

Scoffing, you ignore his protests and untwist the cap. “Stop being a baby. You love it when I wear this stuff.” 

“Yeah, key-word: you.” He reasons, groaning in indignation, “I gotta stop lettin’ you talk me into doin’ weird shit.” 

“Men wearing lipgloss is not weird.” You giggle, pressing against him as you inch closer to his face. Your hands wave the applicator in front of him enticingly to no avail as he continues to look at the object like it’s a threat.  

“C’mon.” You sing, voice honeyed. “If you’re good– I’ll give you a reward.” 

His brows raise, curiosity painting his features. Body language changing in an instant, he puckers his lips dramatically in your direction. 

“Why didn’t ya tell me that before?” He says, eyes glistening with a bright mirth. His lips morph from puckered to a dopey grin as if he can’t help but smile at the thought of his reward. “If ya had, it would’ve made this process a lot easier.” 

“Would it have?” You hum, coyly. Pleased by the obliging mood he’s now in, you tilt his chin up and brush the gloss over his full lips with deliberate care. When you pull away, he poses, and you throw your head back in a hearty laugh. 

You wrap your hands around his shoulders and shudder at the feeling of them– broad and sturdy in your grasp. In the still of the moment, you let yourself drink him in. 

He looks really good. 

His striking features are cut by the softness of the makeup. The streaks of contour and glossy lips compliment him and make him look unreal. Your heart swells from the knowledge that only you could have enough sway to do this to him. 

To have and to hold Atsumu like this is a pleasure that belongs only to you.  

“You’re so pretty like this.” You murmur, thumb tracing his bottom lip. The gloss smudges from your touch, but you think he looks better when he’s a little messy. 

His nose scrunches. “I hate when ya call me pretty. Say I’m handsome, or somethin’ like everyone else.” 

 Despite the playfulness of the moment, there’s a slight tremor in his breath that feels so intimate your knees shake. There’s a tenseness in his shoulders that hints at the impact of your compliment. It fills your stomach with something warm and greedy. 

“But I love calling you pretty.” You grin, trying to stay composed as his strong arms snake around your waist and pull you taut against him. Hand moving to touch his chest, you gaze longingly into his eyes. “Especially when you have makeup on. It makes me want to give you the princess treatment.” 

He whistles, hands rubbing up your sides. You’re in such close proximity that you can just catch how the rise and fall of his chest speeds up when he receives the compliment. 

Eyes darkening, he hums thoughtfully. “And what’s the princess treatment?” 

You don’t reply. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a slow, sticky kiss. He grunts at the feeling and immediately deepens it, instantly stealing the domineering role from you. The dissonance between his aggressive movements and the taste of the strawberry gloss sends shivers down your spine. 

You pull away before it gets too heated, and he groans, chasing after your lips. 

“Stop fuckin’ with me.” He mewls, staring at you like a distressed child being denied his favorite toy. “I hate bein’ teased.”  

“I’m not.” You purr, one hand tracing his chest while the other reaches for your back pocket where your phone resides. “I just want a picture of you in your makeup before we mess it up too much.” 

Before you can open the camera app, his hand grabs your wrist. 

“Who’re ya gonna show that picture to?” He probes, whiney.

Your lips quirk up, “No one. It’s for my personal collection.” 

His eyes narrow before sighing and releasing you from his hold. 

“Yer so weird.” He huffs, but the soft blush on the tips of his ears and the warm affection in his eyes tell you that he doesn’t really mind.

—a/n: he’s just ur silly, loser, whiney bf guys how could u hate him…

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ａｒｔ ｄｅｃｏ ♡

♡ Pairing: roommate!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Summary: You and Hyunjin are roommates, nothing more...and that's alright. At least that's what you tell yourselves. You've survived the last year by pretending you don't want each other, telling yourselves that the other's not interested. Your delusion's fully intact when Hyunjin catches you up late one night working on a project. He offers to help you research your subject, deepen your knowledge so to speak, but there's much more to it than that.

♡ Word Count: 4k-ish

♡ Warnings: playful teasing, use of an aphrodisiac, hyunjin can get a lil bossy, jealous hyunjin, making out, finger licking, nipple play, dry humping, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), pussy drunk hyunjin, things get very wet, fingering, clit play, low key body worship, a lil manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, marking, creampie, they're both quite needy, overstimulation, pet names (baby, sweetie, good girl, pretty girl).

♡ A/N: Hello my darlings. So this fic is a request that's a part of my 3.4k follower celebration which you can find on my page if you wanna put a request in! Thank you to @owlbeforsunrise for requesting this and for being so genuinely supportive of me with my writing. Love you so much xoxo

Procrastination. It’s your worst enemy. You had weeks to get this project done but it was always one thing or another and before you knew it the clock was counting down. Now it’s half past midnight and you’re stationed at your kitchen table, legs kicked up and a sketch pad in your lap.

The subjects of your current drawing are nestled in a medium sized wooden bowl, swirls of mahogany dancing in harmony with the collection of glistening pomegranates resting within. Pressing the button on the side of your headphones, you skip to the next song, humming along as it picks up, your colored pencil scratching away all the while. 

Hyunjin thinks you’re cute like this. With your messy hair and mismatched pajamas. You’re running on the last bit of an iced Americano and feel like absolute death but to him you couldn’t be cuter. He knows that even from behind. It’s not nice for roommates to sneak up on each other but you and Hyunjin never quite got around to the whole “setting boundaries” thing. 

Resting a hand on the back of your chair, Hyunjin leans over your shoulder, lifting one of your earphones to whisper, “Boo.” 

You jump a bit but immediately still yourself, readjusting in your seat to play it off. “Boo yourself” you huff, refusing to look in his direction.

“Scared ya?” he asks, grinning at the defiant look on your face. He was mistaken when he thought you couldn’t get cuter. You’re much cuter when you’re mad. 

You turn to him, lips tight, eyes narrowed, “Don’t you have something better to do? Drink cement? Chew glass?”

His smiling face hovers only an inch from yours, even less when he leans in closer, his gaze dancing over your features. Sometimes when Hyunjin looks at you it’s like being under a microscope. With him no glance is passive. Everything feels like it means something, like he’s studying you, and you can’t stand it. The heat behind those brown eyes is so casual, so effortless, that it’s intimidating in ways you could never bring yourself to admit. And now’s not the time for it. 

You roll your eyes, snapping your attention back to your drawing. “Why are you up anyway?”  

Hyunjin lingers a moment, a photographer taking one last shot of a precious thing, before making his way to the fridge. “I don’t know” he shrugs, an arm draped across the open door as he takes in his options, “Just couldn’t sleep I guess. Too much to worry about.”

You pause your music, jaw hung in shock, “Hwang Hyunjin? Worried? What about?” 

He drops his shoulders, responding with a pained groan, “You know I hate when you call me that.”

“I know” you giggle, doing a little dance with your shoulders, “That’s why I call you that. So, what’s up? Come share with the class.”

Grabbing a bottle of soda, he flings the fridge door closed, and turns to face you, unamused. He contemplates telling you, you can almost see the idea floating around that head of his. He could tell you what he was thinking about. It’d only take a sentence to tell you how one of his best friends texted him earlier asking if you were single. It’d only take another to confess how jealous that left him, how he’s been spiraling ever since, but instead he pops the soda open, gulping down the fizzy drink and any possibilities of a confession right along with it. 

“So, why are you drawing pomegranates?”

You click your tongue, lips curving into a smile, “Why are you deflecting?” 

Hyunjin grabs for your sketch pad and you tighten your grip around the corner of the book but it’s no use, it’s already his. “Is this some new fruit fixation or…”

“It’s not a fruit fixation. It’s for one of my classes. Human Sexuality and the Arts” you say, twinkling your fingers to make it seem fancy. 

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, glancing over at the bowl of fruit and back to you. “And what does that have to do with human sexuality? Were people, you know?” 

He does a light humping motion, your sketch pad propped up at his hip. You snatch it back, refusing to let him violate your art in such a way. “No. People weren’t fucking the pomegranates!” you shout, hitting him with the book, “The ancient Greeks thought that pomegranates were an aphrodisiac. They associate it with the goddess Aphrodite. Some people even say that the forbidden fruit in the Bible was a pomegranate, not an apple.” 

You light up when you speak, you always do when it comes to your art, and Hyunjin can’t help but admire everything about it. The way your brain works, what it manages to create, is almost as beautiful as you are. Just almost.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask, catching onto that starry eyed gaze. 

Hyunjin shakes it off, switching modes like a classically trained actor. “Because you’re just so…” he trails off, thinking up the word, “Painfully nerdy.” 

“Oh, fuck you!” you laugh, flipping him off, “Forgive me for doing my research.” 

He blows you a kiss, making your heart flutter against your will. “Research, huh?” he asks, picking up a pomegranate. He juggles it in his hand, feeling the weight of it, “So you must’ve tried it then.”

“Tried what?”

“Pomegranates. You said they were an aphrodisiac. Ancient Greeks, goddesses, forbidden fruit, all that. How do you know it’s not bullshit?”

You chew at your inner lip, the tail of your pencil tapping away at the page, “I guess I don’t.” 

“Then why don’t we try it?” he asks, presenting you with the fruit. 

You stare at it for a moment, taking it in like it’s some alien thing. You look up at him, your temperature rising at his sudden closeness to you. You’d be a liar if you said you never wondered what it’d be like to have him standing over you like this, that handsome face staring back down at you, but in none of those fantasies was he holding groceries. 

“And by ‘try it’ you mean what exactly?”

You watch as he heads over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a plate from one of the cabinets above before he slides a knife from the block near the sink. With a few swipes of glimmering steel, the pomegranate’s left in four perfect pieces. Placing the knife down, he picks one up, turning back to you. “Come here.”

“No…” you sigh, popping your headphones back on. You have a deadline to meet. There’s no time to spare for his nonsense. 

“Come here” he repeats, his voice laced with a certain sweetness. The kind that makes you fold for him every time. 

You toss your headphones onto the table, your art supplies following close behind as you rise from your seat, bare feet dragging across the cool tile floor. You grab a slice of pomegranate, raising it to your lips before an unexpected hesitation takes hold of you and you toss it away. 

Hyunjin leans against the counter, vexed by your reaction, “What? You think I poisoned it?”

“No, it’s just…you first” you insist, hoping to distract him and yourself from the nerves bubbling up inside you. 

“Me first?”

“Yes, you first. It was your idea so you eat it first.”

He clears his throat, standing up straight so that his tall figure seems even more impressive. Two steps bring him closer to you, his toes right on the edge of touching yours as he brings the fruit to his mouth. His plush rosy lips close around it, his dexterous tongue working the fleshy seeds free of the rind. Scarlet juice drips from the corners of his mouth, riding the sharp contour of his jaw to coat his chin. You’re drawn in by how delicately his mouth works against it. Something about it is so sensual, far more sensual than you’re sure he intends it to be. 

Your body doesn’t care one way or another. Intent means nothing to your quickening pulse or to the warmth creeping its way to the lower half of your body. You don’t even notice you’re holding your breath until his mouth pulls away from the rind and you exhale like you’ve been underwater for an eternity. 

“Now you’re the one staring at me like that” he laughs, disposing of the rind on the plate. “Something on my face?” 

Instinctively you bring your fingers to his chin, wiping the juices away, “Actually, yes. Didn’t know you were such a messy eater.” 

“I thought some girls liked that” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

You swallow hard, your hands trembling barely enough to notice. Only Hyunjin does. Taking you by the wrist, he presses your fingertips to his lips, your touch feather light. You still as his tongue darts out, its wet warmth tracing the shape of your fingers. His eyes never leave yours as he does it. He wants to see how you react, how you feel, and you don’t disappoint. Your legs are shaking, soft thighs rubbing together in shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. The friction is heavenly, soothing the throbbing between your legs and making it much much worse all at once. 

“Is it working?” you ask, your voice cracking under the weight of a question you already know the answer to. 

Hyunjin lets out a chuckle from somewhere deep within his throat, his breath skimming your palm as his lips chart a path along your arm. Every kiss is electric. The tingling left behind at each point of contact gives you goosebumps. Ghosting over the sleeve of your loose fitting tee, his lips find yours, cautiously waiting as near to them as they can be without touching. You’re two magnets, the attraction between you too intense to ignore. All that holds you back are yourselves, your very cells vibrating at the need for connection. 

“Your turn” he whispers, breaking the spell to give you enough room to breathe. As if you ever could under the circumstances. 

You reach over, picking a slice of pomegranate up, fragile as a bomb. This is silly, you think to yourself. Hyunjin’s right. It’s not like it’s poison. You dive in, clearing the rind in a hurry, and flashing Hyunjin a look that says, “What now?” 

What now? Now is the force of his mouth colliding with yours, the sweet, tangy juices lingering on your tongue for only a second before his own tongue’s snaking between your lips to drink it down and you along with it. You tense at first. Not quite resisting. Not quite surrendering. But when his hands find your figure, palms riding the hills of your curves, you crumble. 

A year of living together. A year of playful flirting. A year of words spoken and words not. All of it is poured into a kiss that could shatter worlds. Without question it shatters yours. You never imagined that Hyunjin’s feelings for you could be mutual but the hunger he kisses you with leaves nothing to be questioned. 

“I think it’s working” he says, a breathless taunt against your lips. 

You grab onto his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric as he grips the back of one of your pillowy thighs, raising your knee to rest at his side. “I hate you” you whimper when he presses into you, the growing bulge in his sweatpants teasing your core. There’s no denying how wet you are. The need soaking through the cotton of your panties is more than enough evidence of that. 

It only worsens when he strays from the kiss, leaning into your neck to whisper, “You hate me?” His tone is playful with a hint of something darker. He’s daring you to lie when you both know the truth. “How much do you hate me? Enough to make me stop when I do this?” His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your ass, grinding you against him, and you tremble, your moans as light as your next breath.

“Or this?” Spinning you around, Hyunjin slams you back into the counter, his lips latching onto your neck to feel your pulse race beneath his tongue. He suckles harshly at the skin, the sharpness of his kiss balanced by the ecstasy of his clothed cock rubbing your clit.

This wasn’t the plan. When he stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes barely open, he expected to find a late night snack. What he found instead was you. Something he wanted infinitely more than anything this kitchen could offer. He can’t remember ever needing something so badly that it hurts. His cock straining against his pants is nothing short of torture. It aches for you and only you. 

“Hyunjin, just…aaah” you whine, arching as he sneaks a hand under your shirt, touching your naked skin for the first time. 

He massages your belly, your side, all the way up to your swollen breast that fits in his hand with the perfection of something made to be there. He captures your bud between his fingers, his pointer and index pinching it with just enough pressure to send more of those delicious moans pouring from you. 

“Just…what, sweetie?” he asks, pulling back from your neck with a pop. His lips float back up to yours and that’s where they wait, eager for your next words. 

You can barely form them when he’s throbbing against your drenched pussy, your panties and shorts too wet to make a bit of difference. His fingers tighten around your nipple, playing you like a finely tuned instrument, and you sing for him just the way he wants. 

“Just…just…” you stutter, your hold on his shirt threatening to tear it, “Just fuck me already if you’re gonna do it.” 

You’re both taken back by your directness, the shock doing away with whatever last bit of pretending that lived between you. Hyunjin kisses you again, the passion burning just as hot as the first time, grabbing you by the waist to guide you somewhere you can’t see.

Everything’s dark. The only light you see are the sparks twinkling behind your lids, the kiss pulling you in so that nothing else matters. It’s only when you feel the edge of the kitchen table press into your ass that you remember where you are. 

“Clothes off” he demands, the hem of your shirt already knotted in his fists, “I wanna see you.” 

Your shirt disappears and your immediate reaction is to bring your arms around yourself, shielding yourself from his sight, but Hyunjin peels them away, the awe in his expression quieting your fears. “Oh god, you’re so beautiful” he gasps, slipping your shorts down to reveal your figure in its full glory.

Your panties come down with them, discarded at your feet, leaving you exposed. Hyunjin lifts you onto the table, a hand coasting along your inner thigh to spread your legs open. His gaze falls below your waist and he’s instantly mesmerized by the slickness of your gorgeous pussy. 

He runs his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal, watching your stiff clit twitch from the faintest touch. “Didn’t know you’d be this wet for me. Look at you…” He strokes your entrance, spreading you open and the way you leak onto the table makes his mouth water. “Is this an aphrodisiac too?”

Even in a haze of pleasure, you manage the most adorable giggle, “I don’t know. My books didn’t say anything about that.” 

“Let’s find out then, hmm?” Hyunjin doesn’t wait for your response. He dives right in, dropping to his knees, a devoted lover eager to worship his goddess. 

Your palms smack down on the table, your arms propped up on either side in a desperate attempt to keep yourself upright but it’s no use. Hyunjin’s tongue’s buried too deep within your walls, curling and flicking as he messily slurps down your essence. Your arms are slipping out from under you. The quaking of your body’s too much to control.

Hyunjin slides his hands up to your lower back, cradling you as your back meets the surface below. You shake, maybe from the chill—maybe from his nose bumping your clit, your pussy clenching around his tongue each time. 

“Mmm, tastes so good…” he groans, pulling you closer so that your ass dangles right on the edge of the table, “Can’t stop, fuck, I can’t…”

The slurping noises are borderline obscene, his mouth spread open to taste every part of you. The tip of his tongue swirls through your smooth, velvety folds, teasing your entrance with the slightest stretch before drawing figure eights up to your clit.

It makes every bit of sense in the world now how he got that pomegranate down so quickly. His tongue moves with expert precision, knowing just what to do to achieve exactly what he wants and right now what he wants is for you to keep moaning. Keep trembling. Keep raising your hips to meet the heat of his mouth, riding every wave of pleasure and oh so needy for the next. 

“Jinnie…” you moan, his short hair tickling your palm as you pet the back of his head. 

“Jinnie?” he laughs, applying kitten licks to your pussy between every word spoken, “You only call me that when you want something. You want something, baby?”

“Mmhmm” you nod, still raising your hips for more.

And Hyunjin gives it to you, sinking two fingers into your warmth and seeking out the sweet spot previously discovered by his tongue. The sound you make when he finally hits it is like music to his ears, his cock throbbing from how desperately it wishes it were the one responsible for it.

Hyunjin’s fingers pick up speed, coaxing out a stream of broken moans, “Tell me what you want from Jinnie. Anything for you.” He spreads his fingers wide, stretching you open as his lips latch onto your clit once more.

“Mmm, so close, wanna come for you…” you confess, making the terrible mistake of glancing between your legs.

Hyunjin’s eyes await yours, the lust behind them worsening the pressure building within you. “Then do it. Come for me. Let me taste you” he urges, his fingers abandoning you to let his tongue fill the space.

Your head falls back, your lush breasts jutting out with every rise and fall of your chest. You hook your legs around his shoulders and he grabs onto your thighs, keeping you right where you are. Squirming, whining, begging him not to stop as your orgasm tears through you leaving you speechless.

All you can do is lay there, completely at his mercy, gushing down his chin and helpless to stop his pursuit of more. The taste of you is addictive, so addictive that he can’t pry himself away. Not even when you attempt to twist yourself free, weakly pushing his head back. He’s not done until he says he is. Not until he’s lapped up every last drop. 

“You’re trying to kill me” you pout, managing to turn onto your side. 

Hyunjin tilts his head, keeping his mouth on you, refusing to give up those last few licks. When he finally drags himself away from you, his chest is heaving, and a haze of bliss hangs over him. The same one that hangs over you, weighing you down to the table.

You couldn’t get up if you wanted to and Hyunjin won’t give you the chance. Grabbing you by the waist, he flips you onto your stomach, the impact sending your nearby art supplies tumbling to the floor. 

“I’m not trying to kill you, pretty girl” he grins, tugging his shirt over his head, “Not yet.” 

It’s a subconscious thing, poking your ass up at him like you are. You don’t mean to drive him crazy but you do and he can’t finish stripping down fast enough, breathing a sigh of relief when his cock springs free from his boxers. He rubs the head against your entrance and your walls are already fluttering, wanting nothing more than to suck him in.

There’s a twinge in his chest, at the sight of you stretching around him as he presses into you, and he can’t go any further. Everything’s been happening so fast that it’s just hitting him that this is all real. This is happening.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you turn to look back at him, your expression heavy with concern. “We don’t have to if you don’t…”

Hyunjin’s quick to cut you off, “No! I want to! It’s just…I’ve wanted you for so long and I never thought that I could have you.”

You smile, warm and comforting, “Well you can have me. I’m all yours. You just have to take me. Take me, Jinnie.”

Nothing else needs to be said for him to thrust into you, your heads spinning from the euphoria of your bodies finally meeting. “Aah, fuck, you’re so tight baby” he hisses, slowly rocking in and out of you. He can feel you adjusting to his size, your walls reveling in his thickness as his tip kisses your cervix only to tighten right back up when he dares to pull out a little too far.

He runs a hand along your back, tracing the curve of your spine with his fingertips. You shouldn’t be this beautiful. You shouldn’t take him this well. It’s not fair what you do to him. How hard you make his cock pulse, your pussy already leaving him drenched down to the base. 

And you’re faring no better. Your senses are dominated by the sensation of every thrust, his tip beating against your g-spot with every thrust. It’s the kind of pleasure you can feel tingling your toes and ghosting your fingertips. You can taste it on your tongue. It vibrates in every fiber of your being.

Hyunjin’s hips snap into you harder, the moisture between you sending a lewd slapping sound pinging off the walls of the kitchen. It makes your body jiggle, your ass bouncing back onto him, and he feels so completely enveloped by you that he has to do it again. And again, harsher, faster, his hold on your hips unyielding, dominating your every move. 

The banging of the kitchen table against the wall is more than enough for a noise complaint but your moans? You’re crying out like no one can hear you—every fractured syllable of his name bleeding through the walls into the apartment next door—but it’s nothing you can control. Nothing you want to control.

Hyunjin dips an arm under you, two fingers caressing your clit, and the muscles in your body pull tight, your eyes beginning to water from the overstimulation. You think you might cry if he keeps going but you know you’ll cry if he stops. You’ll throw a tantrum, kicking and screaming, because this is all you want in the world. He has to keep going. Keep pushing you further and further beyond your limits.

“Aah! Oh fuck!” you scream, grabbing onto the edge of the table, nails scraping the wood. Your hips stutter, unable to keep their rhythm, and Hyunjin knows you’re close again. 

Leaning forward, he decorates your back with kisses, uttering praises that chip away at your resolve. “Come again for me, my beautiful girl. No holding back. Let go for me.”  

Just like that you feel light, like your body holds no weight at all. Everything’s soft and fluffy, the most gentle it’s ever been, then all at once you feel all of it. The intensity’s beyond anything that was building before and you’re coming down your thighs, drenching the fingers that frantically work your clit.

“That’s it. Good girl” he coos, the knots in the pit of his own stomach tightening, ready to come undone. “You want me to pull out?”

He leans away but you reach behind you, grabbing him by the arm, “No…inside me.” 

Hyunjin takes you by both hands, interlocking his fingers with yours, and fucks iyou into the table, your pussy clinging to him, swallowing him in so far that he fears he might lose himself in you. If he bites down on his lip any harder he’ll break skin. Not that he could even notice. He’s too busy unraveling between your walls, thick ropes of cum painting you with their creamy white warmth.

There’s no telling how much time passes before he stops moving. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? But you’re both left trembling, your sweat slicked bodies still connected as you drift back down to earth, basking in the afterglow. 

You let out a squeak when he finally slips out of you, rolling onto your back to get more comfortable. Hyunjin positions himself between your legs, his arms caging you in on both sides as he leans in to plant a kiss on your lips. The taste of pomegranate has faded and now he tastes only of a flavor that’s distinctly you.

“See, I told you research was important” he gloats, his length teasing the sensitivity of your pussy. 

You shiver, cupping his face as you arch into him, “I mean, I guess but don’t get any more ideas. I still have a project due you know.”

Hyunjin cuts his eyes at the sketch pad scattered on the floor amidst a sea of colored pencils. “One second.”

He slips off of you and you sit up, crossing your legs, a silent observer as he carefully gathers your things for you. He hands them over with a pleased look on his face. “I can come to your room….help you finish.” 

You clutch your items close to your chest, not at all ignorant to the way his thumbs are stroking your thighs. “Help me finish in what way exactly? 

“Mmm…” he hums, the pad of his thumb just barely touching your clit, “You’ll just have to trust me.” 

“Trust you?” you laugh, hopping down from the table, “We’ll see about that.” You give him a peck on the lips, depriving him of something deeper. A small form of torture done fully on purpose. “Follow me. Oh and bring the plate just in case we have to do more, uh, research.”

Time seems to move in slow motion for Hyunjin as you walk off towards your room, your naked body breathtaking even in the shadows of the dimly lit hall. Backing up, he blindly retrieves the plate from the counter, his fingers skimming the fruit as he does so. 

“God bless the Greeks” he utters under his breath, his brain already running rampant with all the filthy things he wants to do to you tonight. He’s definitely gonna need more fruit.