#THEY JUST GOT BACK TOGETHER DID YOU SOMEHOW MISS “THEY WERE YOU”

[tqlepatia]

— my love's deep as the ocean, don't you drown on me .

previous fic masterlist next

summary: slow, tender morning brings the three of them together again and quiet laughter feel like something close to healing. But when it's time to return to real life, Sevika is pulled back into the choices she's made.

notes: happy pride month !

The kitchen was drowsy with warmth and smell, vanilla extract, browned butter, and a hint of cinnamon. Your son was standing on a stool at the stove with Sevika, too short to reach but too stubborn.

Her large hand hovered close, ready to catch the pan if he missed. And he missed, a sloppy pancake folding in on itself— but he laughed like he’d just made magic

Sevika didn’t laugh at first. She looked at him, then at you across the kitchen. You weren’t laughing either. The corners of your mouth turned up, soft and tired, and that’s when she exhaled, gave that gravelly chuckle you knew by heart. That made him grin so wide it made your heart ache. Like the three of you hadn’t broken into pieces just a few months ago.

You sat in your robe, You had thought it’d be awkward, waking up with her still here. But somehow it wasn’t. Somehow she’d blended into the morning like she never left

moving through your kitchen in bare feet, tying your son’s little apron, teasing him about his “pancake flip game.” She looked domestic again. The kind that makes you forget how bad the ending was.

The three of you ended up on the couch afterward, plates cleared, still in pajamas. Cartoons murmured on the screen, something colorful and ridiculously bright and loud.

Your son curled between you, one hand gripping yours, the other fisting the hem of Sevika’s shirt.

You watched him fall asleep against her side. His breathing slowed. He did that thing with his hand—rubbed the side of his cheek with the back of his fist. You’d always done that too. Sevika noticed it, whispered, “He’s still got that sleepy tick,”

When it was time to take him to school, Sevika offered to drive. He held both your hands on the walk to the gate, swinging between you like a little pendulum. He asked if you were both picking him up, and Sevika froze for half a second.

The school gates swallowed him up and the street felt too quiet after. You turned to Sevika, arms crossed in your coat, waiting for her to say let’s go home.

She didn’t. Her phone buzzed and she looked at the screen too long before answering. You didn’t ask who it was, because you already knew.

“Is everything okay?” you asked. She looked at you for a long time, almost like she didn’t want to answer. “She wants me home.”

You blinked. “I thought you were staying for a while.”

“I thought I was too,” she said, not quite meeting your eyes. “But I can’t— I shouldn’t be there.”

A car passed behind her. You swallowed hard, trying to hold the pieces of your face together. “So that’s it?”

Sevika shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “I didn’t plan this morning. It just… happened.”—“And leaving?” you asked, voice low. “Does that just happen too?”

Her jaw tightened. She looked like she wanted to fight, but she didn’t. She just stepped back, toward the sidewalk. “I’ll call you.”

“Don’t,” you said quietly. “Not unless you’re sure next time.”

She gave you one last look — and you hated it, because it was still soft. Still full of regret. But regret didn’t change anything. Not now. Not this.

You stood there long after she was gone, arms crossed, throat tight.

⋮ ⌗ ┆ 𝐓aglist of the series : @possessedmagpie, @starrycherie, @moodient, @h2pinky, @minaridior, @abbysdollie, @vkumi, @acidblum, @skzhoiic, @sleepingwasp, @kmhbygss, @jksevendays, @lovejuliettq, @prettyyyy-girl, @laviannasfanfics, @bvtchbait .

౨ৎ - 𝐓aglist ; @prettyinpink69 , @abbysdollie , @marieeeluvsyou , @littlelovelunette , @madzorwhatever , @zvmbitegirl , @salsalsusu , @katarandaa, @starrycherie, @moonshimegf , @watermelonshine, @zombieeepup

[guppiechuu]

irresistible s.j. ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ (my little gift to you, yay for 100 followers!!)

length: 1.4k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, light masturbation

synopsis: in which your boyfriend, jake, struggles to pay attention to what you're saying, too distracted by how cute you look getting ready for bed.

——

Jake was trying to listen to you. Honest.

He was trying to focus on the words that were tumbling out of your mouth, a long winded description of your day and who you’d run into at the store and how annoying your friends could be and where you wanted to go over the weekend with him.

But you were prancing around in your pjs, thighs exposed under your little pink shorts, midriff peeking out every time you reached up to hang something back up in your closet.

He’d been waiting patiently for you to come home, sprawled in your bed scrolling on his phone for what felt like hours. He wasn’t even thinking about fucking you, but somehow he’d ended up with a hard-on anyways.

It wasn’t his fault. Your sheets were all soft and smelled like you, the corners bunched from where you’d grabbed them last night. Mixed in was the smell of his cologne, and the lotion you always used. The smell of both of you mingled together drove him crazy, sparking a build of pressure in his stomach.

It was like your room was designed to turn him on.

The miniskirt you’d worn out with him was hanging off the side of your hamper, wrinkled from his grip on your thighs. Your dresser drawer was half open, the one where you kept your vibrator hidden under your underwear. He could see the pink silicone poking out over the edge.

What had started as a half-hearted absentminded touch—just to ease the tension building beneath his sweats—had become a full on over-the-pants rub out. You wouldn’t be home for a little while longer, and you’d be tired from your day. If he could just take care of that gnawing ache beneath his boxers, he’d be able to drift off happily to sleep with you in his arms.

Well, you got home sooner than he’d expected.

“Jake?” You called, your footsteps echoing up the stairs towards your room.

Jake pulled his hand away from his groin, looking up as you came through your door, already exploding into your daily debrief for him.

“You were totally right. The sale ended yesterday.” You pouted. “I stopped by on my way home and everything was back to full price. I’m such a dummy, I should’ve gone last weekend like you said.”

“That’s alright baby,” He said, slightly breathless. His mind was scrambling to return to normal. “I’ll take you next weekend. I can pay, I don’t mind.”

You gave him a shy smile, bending over your bed to give him a kiss to the corner of his mouth. His stomach fluttered, the persistent ache beneath his boxers still there.

You got on with your nightly routine: changing out of your clothes, slipping into the pajamas laid out on your chair. You put your hair up as you spoke, missing a few strands that curled down the nape of your neck.

Jake was going crazy.

He bit his lip as you talked, nodding along to everything you were saying, trying to listen to every word. But he was just so damn into you—it was chemical at this point.

Just the smell of you on your sheets had him in a heated rut, and now you were there in front of him, soft-skinned and basically half-naked.

“Jungwon and Sunoo are going out for dinner on Friday. Do you think we can go?”

“Mm, yeah,” He said absentmindedly, watching the way your back curved under the waistband of your shorts. He shifted slightly, aching for you under his pants.

“Don’t you have solo practice that evening?”

“Hm?”

“Friday. I thought you reserved a studio for that night.”

“Oh, yeah. I did.”

Did what? Jake could hardly focus.

You weren’t oblivious to the way he was adjusting on your bed, his hand going to rest over his crotch nonchalantly. He’d always had a bad poker face.

When your boyfriend wanted you, there was no way to hide it.

“Are you okay?” You half-laughed, watching as he palmed himself slightly through his sweats.

“Mhm,” He said, still not fully paying attention. His hips jutted slightly, chasing the friction of his hand.

“Jakey,” You murmured, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, baby. I’m listening, I swear.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but went on, talking about which restaurants Sunoo had suggested. But it was obvious Jake’s mind was elsewhere.

He kept shifting where he sat, not-so-subtly pressing his hips up into his hand, eyes tracking you wherever you moved. He was getting more and more flustered—dragging his hand through his hair, tugging on the neck of his hoodie, chewing on his lip until you thought it might actually bleed.

“What’s up with you?” You laughed. “It’s like you’re ovulating or something.”

He smiled, lip between his teeth. “You’re way too hot. It’s fucked up.”

“I’m glad to know the pajama look is doing it for you, weirdo.”

Oh, but it was. Your cute little ass and the squish of your thighs, all on display for him to see. He wanted to devour you right then and there, put his lips all over your body, taste every inch of you.

“You’re the one parading around in those little shorts,” He protested. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s not? I could always… take them off, if they’re bothering you that much?” Your eyes glinted playfully and Jake’s dick throbbed, aching.

He groaned as you hooked your fingers over them, sliding them all the way down your legs and kicking them to the side.

“Baaabe, that’s not fair,” He whined, falling over to bury his face in your comforter. “You’re being mean.”

“You’re the one not listening to anything I’m saying,” You teased.

Jake felt the edge of the bed dip down and he peeked out from the corner of his eye. You’d pulled your shirt off too, tits exposed, stomach bare. The torturous, tantalizing way you preferred to sleep. He cursed under his breath.

“Missed you today,” You said, climbing on top of him.

He rolled under you, flat on his back, as your legs went on either side of his waist. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He lifted his head up as you leaned down to kiss him again, his hands flat on your ass. Fuck, he loved your body. The weight of you on his groin sent a shiver of pleasure up his stomach.

“Y/n,” He protested as you leaned back, grinding your hips down on him.

“What, you don’t want it?”

“Aren’t you tired, baby? You’ve been up all day.”

You shook your head, grabbing onto his shoulders as he sat up beneath you. “Come on, you know me, Jakey. Can’t fall asleep unless I feel you.”

And you felt him alright. The fabric of his sweats were thin—you could feel how stiff he was, dick rubbing deliciously against your core which was getting wetter by the second.

He groaned again as you sped up, hips working beneath his hands. He grabbed ahold of your waist and flipped you both over, digging his hips down into yours as he opened his mouth against you.

“Feels so good, baby,” He said against your lips.

Your underwear was slick, wetting the front of his pants. He didn’t give a fuck. All he cared about was keeping his cock wedged between your folds, chasing the pressure that was building in his stomach.

“Jake,” You panted, reaching out to pull his sweats and boxers down.

He put a hand between your legs, pushing your soaked underwear to the side and pressing his dick up against you, skin to skin.

“Fuck,” He moaned, shivering at how wet and hot you were for him.

“Fuck me?” You asked, pushing your hips up into him.

He obliged, sliding himself inside you until he was buried to the hilt. You stretched around him perfectly, your walls all soft and soaked for him.

It was a quick fuck. He rutted into you, holding your hips down with a ringed hand as his body stuttered, the release of pent-up tension blurring his thoughts momentarily.

You moaned into his mouth while you came, your legs wrapped around his waist to hold him in closer, deeper. His body shook, hips jutting into yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, your name spilling from his mouth.

He curled his hips into yours as you both came down, a thin layer of sweat gracing both your faces. Jake was breathing heavily, planting kisses all over your face as you giggled beneath him.

“So.” Kiss.

“Fucking.” Kiss.

“Hot.” Kiss.

After, you curled into his chest in the dark, breathing in the warm smell of his skin.

“Night,” You mumbled into the base of his neck, pressed as close as one could possibly be.

“Good night, baby,” He yawned. “M’gonna fuck you again in the morning.”

You smiled against his throat. “Promise?” You said teasingly.

“On my life.”

——

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ hiiii guys thank you so so much for 100 followers!! I’ve said this before but I’m new to tumblr and really just wanted a place to put all my freaky thoughts without anyone irl finding me hehe ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

it makes me so happy when y’all interact with my writing and just warms my heart so much that people like reading my stuff idk idk I’m blushing just thinking about it (>⩊<)

enjoy this quick little oneshot that my roommate actually inspired (thanks bestie). I hope I can keep writing stuff that yall enjoy!!! have a great day :3 .☘︎ ݁˖

[pandapetals]

request so usually in joel fics reader isn’t as good as him at playing guitar and things like that, but i think it’d be so fun and soft if reader was good at another instrument, like piano, and joel comes home to reader playing (bonus points for singing too), a hobby you kept mostly hidden from him and is taken aback by your talent, making him fall harder

maybe it leads into a first “i love you” or maybe it’s an established relationship like marriage and joel just ultimately becomes so excited to share a musical hobby with you idk, you pick! i trust you <33

Notes In The Dark

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader

Content warnings: established relationship, joel’s pov, fluff, confessions through music, reader is guarded like joel, no y/n used

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for the request. I love this idea so much. I suck at playing anything musical, but a girl can dream. I would totally murder the gee-tar and sing horribly just to amuse or annoy Joel.

You’d always been a guarded person. The world had made you that way — loss and survival chiseling walls around the soft parts of you. Joel knew it, recognized it, because he was the same. Two people carrying too much, too used to keeping everything close to the chest. And yet, somehow, when you were together, those walls didn’t feel so heavy. Like maybe you were both learning how to set the weight down, a little at a time.

He’d just gotten back from patrol with Tommy, bone-tired and soaked to the skin from the rain that had started to fall on the way in. The kind of cold that gnawed at the bones, but the ache of missing you had settled in deeper than any weather could.

“Gonna head on,” he muttered to Tommy, not bothering with an excuse this time. His brother just raised a brow, smirked like he knew, and took the reins of Joel’s horse without a word.

The streets of Jackson were slick and empty at this hour, puddles catching the glow of scattered porch lights. Joel’s boots slapped against the wet earth as he made his way home, heart thudding a little harder the closer he got. He told himself he was just hungry and wanted a hot shower.

All bullshit.

He wanted you.

The house was quiet when he pushed the door open, the faint scent of something cooked hours ago still hanging in the air. He shrugged off his jacket, water dripping onto the floor, and noticed the plate waiting for him on the counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. A small, quiet thing that made his chest ache.

He moved toward it, and that’s when he heard it.

A melody, soft and low, threaded through the hush of the house. The notes were careful, like fingers brushing against old keys, and after a beat, your voice followed. Fragile, at first. Uncertain. Then steady. Beautiful in a way that made the hair on his arms stand up.

Joel froze.

He hadn’t known you could sing. Hadn’t known you could play. You’d never let that part of yourself slip through the cracks you showed him.

The song wasn’t anything he recognized — something old, or something you’d made up yourself. It didn’t matter. It was yours, and it reached him in a place nothing else ever did.

He followed the sound, stopping in the doorway to the living room. There you were, sitting at the old upright piano someone in town had managed to scavenge and restore. Lamplight pooled around you, catching in your hair, your face soft and unguarded in a way he rarely saw.

And fuck, if it didn’t knock the air clean out of his lungs.

Joel leaned against the doorframe, watching your fingers move over the keys, how your mouth shaped the words like you were afraid they might break if you weren’t careful. A lump rose in his throat, sudden and sharp.

He realized in that moment, as stupid and hopeless as it was in a world like this, he was falling for you. Had already fallen, probably. But this? Seeing you like this, hearing you like this? It was the kind of thing a man didn’t come back from.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t dare break the spell. Just stood there, soaking it in, and let himself ache for you in a way he hadn’t let himself ache for anything in years.

Your voice was soft, like the brush of wind through tall grass, or the last notes of a lullaby someone half-remembered. There was a quiet strength in it, steady and unflinching in a way that caught Joel right in the chest, just like you.

The melody wrapped around the room, filling the empty corners with something warm and aching. Joel knew a lot of old songs, but this one didn’t belong to any of them. It was yours. He could hear it in the way you sang it, like it came from someplace deep, from old hurts and stubborn hope.

And damn if it didn’t settle under his ribs, a weight and a warmth all at once.

When you finally looked up, startled to find him standing there, Joel saw the flicker of embarrassment cross your face, like you’d been caught with something you weren’t ready to share. But before you could say a word, he crossed the room in a few strides.

His hand came up, rough fingers cupping your cheek, thumb brushing just beneath your eye. His voice was low, softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Been waitin’ on you to let me see you like this.”

There wasn’t anything teasing in his tone, no smirk or sharp edge. Just something honest, and maybe a little wrecked, like the sight of you had undone a knot inside him he didn’t know he’d been carrying.

“I… I haven’t played in a long time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers lingered on the piano keys, the final notes of your song still hanging faintly in the air like a memory. You risked a glance up at Joel, and for once, you let him see it—the raw, unguarded thing behind your eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you added, softer now, like it might make the truth easier to say. “Was… waiting for you to come back from patrol.”

Joel’s features softened, the hard line of his jaw easing as he took a careful step closer. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, a habit you’d come to recognize when he wasn’t sure what to do with all the feeling inside him.

“I didn’t mean to startle you—” he started, but you shook your head before he could finish.

“No,” you said quickly, the word catching a little in your throat. “It’s okay. I… I wanted to play for you. I just didn’t know how.”

The room held still for a beat, the soft ticking of the clock the only sound between you. Then Joel’s mouth twitched into the barest ghost of a smile, and without a word, he turned toward the old guitar leaning against the wall.

He picked it up gently and lowered himself onto the bench beside you, the wood creaking quietly beneath his weight. His shoulder brushed yours, and when you looked over at him, there was something in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. 

“Well,” he murmured, fingers absently testing the strings. A low, familiar chord hummed through the room as he strummed, and you felt it settle in your bones. Joel nodded toward the keys in front of you.

“Play somethin’. I’ll follow.”

Your heart raced, but you nodded, hands finding their place on the worn ivory keys. You played, slower this time, letting the melody stretch and breathe, and Joel fell in beside you with ease, his guitar filling the spaces your piano left open.

Your voice found its way back, softer, but steadier than before. It was just the two of you, filling up the quiet, saying all the things neither of you knew how to say in words.

When the song faded, neither of you moved to break the moment. Joel’s hand brushed against yours on the keys, a touch so light you almost wondered if you imagined it.

“Shoulda told me you could do this,” he said quietly.

You smiled and leaned your shoulder against his. “Guess I didn’t know how.”

“You always sing when you can’t sleep?” he murmured, a half-smile tugging at his mouth.

You huffed a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Not usually. Only… when it hurts or my mind is out of control.”

“Yeah,” he said finally, voice rough. “I know that one.”

He set the guitar aside and turned to face you. His hand found your knee, thumb tracing a thoughtless circle there.

“You got a way’a makin’ it hurt less,” he admitted, gaze dropping to where his thumb moved against your skin. “Didn’t… didn’t expect it. Didn’t think there was much left in me for somethin’ like this.”

Your throat tightened. You weren’t good at this. Neither of you were. But something about the way he looked just then, like he’d finally let himself stop running, made you brave enough to reach for his hand, to lace your fingers through his.

“I was scared you’d hear,” you whispered. “And now I’m scared of how bad I wanted you to.”

Joel huffed out a quiet, shaky laugh. He squeezed your hand, brought it up between you, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I ain’t good at sayin’ things,” he confessed, his voice low and rough, like every word cost him. “But you oughta know… you’re it for me.”

Your breath caught, a soundless thing, but your other hand came up to cup his face, thumb grazing the stubble on his jaw. “I know,” you murmured. “And you’re it for me too.”

[biellescouts]

fwb!jaehyun ⬂

jeong jaehyun x f!reader

a/n; saw a fake texts thing of him & i was like ‘oh this is so him’ this honestly just fell out of my brain. also these pics… im fiending

cw: jaehyun is a douchebag! cocky fine shyt. not proof read, kissing ooohhhh, suggestive; implied couch sex😓

summary: fwb non!idol au in which jaehyun was your insta crush who ended up not living up to your delusions, so now he’s ur friend-with-benefits.

fwb!jae who’s like, one of those insta fuckboys and you somehow ended up becoming mutuals. initially, you thought you were gonna make an honest man out of him, form some sort of relationship, start dating — whatever. but on the first link up he showed his true true colors & you were like nah, let me just have some fun.

so now he hits u up at like 10:15pm tb some “hi mamas, u busy?” but like… who is busy at this time of night. which is exactly what he says when u respond w yes. so he ends up coming over after you give up fighting with him about it.

when he gets up to ur apartment you answer the door in ur pjs cs why bother dressing up,, it’s no one special— just ur fuck buddy!

that being said🥸. the pajamas in question are a pink vest, no bra & some tiny ass shorts. thrifted hollister. so when he sees the fit he fully checks you out at the door before even acknowledging you properly. asshole.

he keeps it chill for the most part. hits you with a smooth “wassup,” daps you up (gotta keep it casual ofc) and nods his backwards cap at you before sliding past you into your living room. and he doesn’t miss the chance to ghost his hand along the sliver of your stomach that can be seen between the vest and shorts. means ‘i wanna fuck.’ in jaenese. probably.

“nothings up. why you here, lowkey.” you tease him. you know why he’s here. he knows why he’s here. he just smiles at you dopily from where he made himself at home on your couch. and pats his hand on his lap expectantly.

you wanna be bratty so bad and keep bugging him but it’s lowkey too late for games tonight. and to be honest with yourself - as much as you hate to admit - needed him to come tonight. you’d been needing that lately.

all week he’d been letting people know on his fuckboy ass instagram feed that he’d bleached his hair blonde and you needed to see that shit in motion, in 3D. ASAP.

so that’s how you end up being sat down on his spread open legs, pushing your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp with your acrylics. “you got your hair done?”

“did it myself.” he purses his lips at you proudly and his hands start to wander down your back.

“lying ass.”

“what? i swear.” and you just laugh at him.

“looks good.” you lower your eyes at him and his flick down to your lips so you decide to play with him— “you wanna kiss me?” but in the position y’all are currently in, he’s past the embarrassment now. he just responds with “mhm” and brings his lips up to yours.

you would probably never know how jae kisses someone he’s actually into cs when you guys get together it goes from 1 to 100 real fast. maybe 15 seconds after that first peck from him, you’re now sloppily making out. his hands are going just about anywhere possible; curled up into your bundles, under the back of your vest, down your shorts to grab your ass anddd he’s getting hard under you.

& to his relief, you choose to silently acknowledge his boner, rolling your hips into his as his tongue dips into your mouth. without fail, the sloppy make out always leads from one thing to another & the horniness builds up into the two of you drying it on the couch until one of you gets restless and starts undressing the other. and it’s almost always jaehyun to lose in your unspoken competition.

whenever he comes around you always end up fucking on this poor couch— he probably never even seen your bedroom, let alone stayed over in there. you fuck hard and wild and loud just licking and biting all over each other. and the way he holds you while you’re riding him or he’s hovering over you, balls deep inside your pussy, you’d think you have something. but as soon as he’s done beating it up, you climb off him leaving to your room with a quick “night” and expecting him to be gone when you wake up the next morning.

& maybe this would sadden you & make you have a really long think while staring into space. but you have to remember— he’s a dick! nobody has time for that kind of trauma rn.

a/n: idk why but it’s lowkey so hot when a guy is an asshole… zero survival skills💔 also this was supposed to be short wtf. damn near a whole fic. anyways #needthat. ugh.

[nicksno1simp]

Lucky Strikes

—————————————————————————————————————

Nick Sturniolo x Markus Rhodes

Wc: 1000+

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, suggestive joke

—————————————————————————————————————

Nick tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie, standing outside the little candle-lit bowling alley Markus had picked out. It was one of those trendy retro-style spots with neon signs, a jukebox in the corner playing throwback pop songs, and a weird smell of popcorn and wood polish that somehow just worked. He looked up just in time to see Markus walking toward him, hands in his jacket pockets, a mischievous smile already forming.

“You look like you’re about to throw up. You good?” Markus teased, bumping Nick’s shoulder gently as he came to stand beside him.

“I will not be doing that on our date” Nick deadpanned, turning to him with a lopsided smirk. “But I might if you try to out-bowl me.”

“Oh, I fully plan to out-bowl you. I came prepared.”

Nick arched a brow. “Did you bring your own bowling shoes or something?”

Markus grinned. “No, but I watched a YouTube tutorial. So, basically, I’m a professional now.”

Nick barked out a laugh, letting the door swing open as they stepped inside. “God, you’re a dork.”

“You’re into it,” Markus replied, without missing a beat.

Nick didn’t deny it.

They got their lane, and Markus immediately tripped while trying to look cool as he rolled the first ball. It spun way off to the side and hit exactly zero pins. He turned back around dramatically.

“Warm-up round. Obviously,” he declared.

Nick clapped slowly. “I see the YouTube tutorial really paid off.”

Markus narrowed his eyes and pointed. “Don’t mock the technique. You haven’t even gone yet.”

Nick rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed his bowling ball. He walked up, cool and nonchalant, and launched the ball in a smooth spin. It knocked down nine pins.

Markus blinked. “Wait… what?!”

Nick grinned smugly. “Natural talent. What can I say?”

“Okay, now I definitely hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Nick said, giving him a little wink as he walked past to sit back down. “You’re just intimidated by how good I look in bowling shoes.”

Markus snorted and sat beside him, bumping their knees together. “You look like a chaotic muppet in bowling shoes.”

Nick gasped in mock betrayal. “That’s the most offensive thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Aw, baby, I’ll make it up to you.” Markus reached over and fixed a piece of Nick’s hair that had gone rogue. “There. Now you only look like half a muppet.”

Nick tried to stay annoyed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “You suck.”

“You love when I suck” Markus smirks.

Nick turns bright red, “stop it!” Nicks eyes were locked on Markus in that way he did when he was half-joking and half-exposing his entire soul.

The game continued—mostly gutter balls, a few flukey strikes, and a lot of bickering that was really just flirting in disguise. At some point, Markus missed again and groaned dramatically, flopping onto the little plastic bench beside Nick.

“Okay, I give up. I’m terrible. Take me out of my misery.”

Nick leaned in, face inches from Markus’s. “You want me to kill you during our date?”

“No, I want you to kiss me during our date. Duh.”

Nick blinked. “That was smooth.”

“I’ve had like three hours of practice,” Markus whispered, teasing.

Nick smiled—really smiled—and leaned in close. “You know, for someone who sucks at bowling, you’re kinda killing it at the flirting thing.”

“Oh, I’ve been killing it since the moment I got here. You’re just slow to catch up.”

And Nick didn’t argue. He just leaned forward and kissed him, right there in the weird glow of retro lights and the faint smell of stale nachos. It was soft and warm and awkward in the best way, like they both weren’t expecting it but kind of always were.

When they pulled apart, Markus cleared his throat. “So… do I get bonus points for that?”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “You still lost at bowling.”

“But I won you,” Markus said with a cheesy little grin.

Nick rolled his eyes again, but his cheeks were red. “Ugh. You’re insufferable.”

“But you’re into it,” Markus whispered again.

And yeah. He totally was.

—————————————————————————————————————

A nicksno1simp original

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

Tom x f reader

Shes upset because all of her friends are hanging out without her and left her out. She’s crying in Tom’s arms, he’s comforting her.

First she’s just crying in his arms bcs she’s very hurt. Then he suggests to watch a movie together, but first they make some popcorn and snacks. Then they enjoy the movie and she feels better!

I FUCKING PROMISE | TOM KAULITZ

you didn’t mean to cry. you really didn’t.

you were just sitting on tom’s couch, phone in your hand, scrolling through stories that made your stomach twist in that horrible way — that slow, burning realization that everyone had been together. again. everyone.

but not you.

you stared at the photos for a long time.

they were laughing, arms around each other, matching outfits, inside jokes you weren’t a part of anymore — and they hadn’t even tried to hide it. not even a “wish you were here.” not even a text.

you blinked down at the screen like maybe you were missing something. maybe you missed a message. a call. a plan.

but no. your phone had been quiet all day.

and suddenly it was just too much. the kind of too much that breaks open from somewhere deep and sore inside of you.

the room felt way too silent, so you’d left. barefoot, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, you walked to the one place that ever felt safe when the world went dark and mean —

tom’s.

you walked to the kitchen and when he turned around the first thing he saw was your red, wet face.

“oh, baby…” he whispered, and that was all it took. your bottom lip trembled, and you folded into him without saying a word, burying your face into the warm, familiar scent of his hoodie.

he didn’t ask. not right away.

he just held you.

his arms wrapped around your waist like he already knew something in the world had broken you today. his chin rested lightly against the top of your head, his fingers brushing up and down your back in slow, steady lines.

you were shaking.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, soft and low, barely louder than the sound of his breath, “you’re with me now. i got you. i got you, baby.”

you didn’t want to cry harder. but you did.

he guided you to the couch again gently, like he was afraid you’d fall apart if he let go for even a second. he didn’t turn on the lights. just soft golden glow from the windows and the comfort of his quiet apartment, smelling faintly of weed, cologne, and the warmth that somehow always smelled like him.

you sat down, knees pulled to your chest, and he sat right next to you, thigh touching yours, hand still cradling the back of your head. he didn’t ask yet — he just let you cry.

“they left me out again.” you finally choked out, voice rough and small.

“my friends. they… they didn’t even tell me. they all hung out. i found out from their stories. and i thought maybe i did something wrong. i thought maybe they forgot me. but they didn’t. they just didn’t want me there.”

tom’s jaw tightened. he didn’t say anything right away, but his arm around you pulled tighter.

“baby…” he said, and it cracked your heart open a little more, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then why—” your voice broke, “why do they keep doing this? why am i always the one they leave out?”

“because they’re fucking stupid,” he said, low and sharp now, voice tight like he was hurting with you, “they don’t see how lucky they are to have you. they don’t get it. but i do. okay? i see you.”

you leaned into him more, sobs quiet but aching in your chest. “i just wanted to feel included. like i mattered to someone.”

he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, slow and warm, like a promise.

“you do matter,” he whispered into your hair, “to me. so fucking much. i hate that they made you feel like this. you don’t deserve that. you deserve people who would beg to spend time with you. who light up when you walk in the room. who notice when you’re not there.”

he tipped your chin up, made you look at him. his eyes were all soft fire. “that’s how i feel. every time i see you. like—fuck, there she is. there’s my girl.”

your heart ached in a whole new way now — the kind that was full of love and disbelief that someone could care about you this much, even when you felt so invisible.

“but what if they just… stop talking to me completely?” you whispered, voice shaky again.

“then they’re idiots,” he said immediately, “and they’ll lose the best thing they ever had. their loss. but i’m not going anywhere. ever.”

you looked at him, eyes glassy and wide, and all you could manage was a tiny, broken, “promise?”

he didn’t hesitate.

“i fucking promise.”

he wrapped you back in his arms, pulling a blanket over the two of you like a shield from the rest of the world. he let you stay curled up on his chest, fingers tracing lazy circles on your back while your breathing slowly evened out again.

he played with your hair, whispered things in german when he thought you were almost asleep — quiet, soothing things. schatz. ich bin hier. du bist nicht allein.

and for the first time that day, your heart didn’t hurt so much.

because you had tom.

and tom had you.

and sometimes that was enough to make the world a little softer again.

his hand kept running through your hair, slow and rhythmic, until the last few tears had dried on your cheeks and your breathing finally started to settle. the kind of calm that only came when you were held by someone who really, really meant it.

“you wanna stay here tonight?” he asked gently, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “or i can take you home, whatever you want.”

you just nodded against his chest, too tired to speak, clinging to the warmth of his hoodie and the steady beat of his heart beneath it.

he kissed the top of your head again, lips lingering there. “i’ve got something better,” he said softly, “you don’t need them. fuck them. let me take care of you tonight, yeah?”

you nodded again.

he smiled a little, and you felt it against your hair. “you trust me?”

“yeah, of course.” you whispered.

he shifted carefully, pulling you up with him as he stood, arms still wrapped around your waist. “good. because i’m putting on your favorite movie and we’re gonna lie in bed and not think about those assholes ever again.”

and that’s exactly what he did.

you ended up in his room, wrapped in one of his giant t-shirts and tucked under the fluffiest blanket he owned. he had his arm behind your head on the pillow, the other stretched across your waist like he needed to keep you close or he’d lose his mind. the lights were low, the only brightness coming from the tv screen at the end of his bed.

the opening music started, familiar and comforting. you relaxed a little.

“you sure you don’t mind watching this again?” you asked softly, already curled into his side like you belonged there.

his lips brushed your temple. “baby, i’d watch this a thousand times if it meant seeing you smile once.”

you did smile. just a little.

and when he saw it, his heart melted.

you kept your eyes on the screen, but he watched you more than the movie — eyes tracing the way your brows furrowed at the sad parts, the way your lips parted a little when you got lost in the story. he kissed your forehead during the boring scenes. tickled your side just enough to make you squirm when the tears started to well again.

and when the movie hit your favorite part — the one you always quoted, the one that made you believe in love again, just a little — tom repeated the line right along with it. word for word. but instead of looking at the screen, he looked straight at you.

“that’s how i feel about you,” he said after, voice soft like a secret, “just so you know.”

you didn’t answer. you just reached for up to cup his cheek and kissed him deeply, then you slid your hand under the blanket and held his tight.

and he held you back, tighter.

by the time the credits rolled, your head was on his chest and your legs tangled with his. the weight in your chest felt lighter. the ache, softer. not gone — but not so sharp anymore.

you looked up at him with sleepy eyes. “thank you for tonight.”

he leaned down, nose brushing yours. “you never have to thank me for loving you.”

and you knew he meant it.

he kissed you again, this time slow, and when he pulled back, you saw it in his eyes — the way he saw you. like you were the whole world. even on your worst day.

especially then.

you fell asleep like that — warm, safe, and finally, finally enough.

not because of them.

but because of him.

and in tom’s arms, for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

[bewareofitalics]

I started writing a post about this video about how to make The Fantasticks less problematic but it keeps getting wilder and wilder and I don't even know what do say anymore. I do not think you understand the show at all, sir. Also maaaaaaaybe you should check to see if the original writer has handled some of your concerns already? Just a thought!

[connormoving]

thank GODDD the doctor is taking time to work on himself maybe now he can stop ruining womens lives .

[cherrygirlfriend]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ office visitations

pairing: wife!reader x ceo!rafe synopsis: wife!reader goes to visit rafe at work for lunch warnings: smut, breeding kink, praise, soft rafe, talk of pregnancy, fluffy ending MDNI - wc: 2k a/n: another old fic! i swear i’m actually gonna post something new, i’m currently preparing some fics for a milestone <3 be patient pls!! fun fact; this was first posted on my birthday!! originally posted 11/15/2024

rafe masterlist ♡

everyone on kildare island wondered how rafe cameron of all men had managed to land you; sure, he was rich and good looking, but in figure 8, that was nothing. but somehow he had, and only after six months of being your boyfriend, he had asked you to marry him; no one knew that he had been looking at rings after your very first date.

you were basically his opposite; the sweet, girl-next-door pogue who no one ever had anything bad to say about, while he was known to lash out at whoever was in the wrong place in the wrong time, but after meeting you, he was obsessed.

rafe was sitting in his office, just having finished up a board meeting, those always stressing him out, paperwork piling on his desk, his cup of coffee having gone cold already.

there was a soft knock on rafe's door, and he rubbed his forehead, letting out a small scoff; he had told his secretary to not let absolutely anyone to come bother him. he looked up at the door, letting out a cold and detached, "come in." knowing that his secretary would be looking for a new job.

but as soon as he saw the familiar pair of eyes playfully peek into his office, it was like all the tension slowly rolled off his shoulders. "hi." you said with a smile that was so bright and sunny rafe was sure it could've melted down an icecap. "can i come in?"

rafe cleared his throat, standing up from his chair, "yeah, of course." the man smiled, running a hand through his mussed-up blonde hair as you stepped into his office. you were wearing a long, flowy sundress, carrying two cups of coffee and a bag of something, "what's this?" your husband asked amusedly, his head nodding toward the bag.

"i brought you some coffee and croissants." you said, placing the things on his desk and turning to him, "i knew you're always stressed after board meetings. i would be too, if i had to sit around with a bunch of old guys for an hour straight listening to their issues with you or whatever you do." you chuckled, straightening the collar of his button-up.

"you know just what i need." he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, tilting his head down so he could nuzzle it into your neck, breathing in the floral scent of your perfume while you let out a small chuckle, your eyes closing as you held him, stroking his back.

he pulled back, looking down at your dress with a small grin, "did you wear this for me?" he asked, feeling the fabric inbetween his fingers, "it looks great."

"thank you. my husband got it for me." you said playfully, giving him your left hand. rafe took hold of it, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before looking at your engagement ring.

"he has great taste. in women, in clothing, and in jewelry."

you laugh softly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes, until rafe took your chin inbetween his pointer finger and his thumb, forcing you to look up at him, the man admiring the way your eyes twinkled, moving his hands to rest on your waist again. "you look so gorgeous."

"and you look very handsome." you said, tugging him down into a kiss, your lips on his immediately causing rafe's head to buzz. rafe's hands slowly slid down to your ass, grabbing at the flesh through your summer dress, pulling you closer while one of your hands was on his chest, and one of your hands was on the back of his neck, short blond hair meeting your soft palms.

you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, keeping your forehead and nose pressed to his, your breaths mingling together while your eyes were closed.

"i missed you..."

"you saw me this morning." rafe mumbled, one of his hands traveling to your cheek, cupping it in his hand while his thumb stroked your soft cheek.

"does that mean i can't miss you?" your brows raised with a chuckle, the hand that had been resting on his chest was now tugging his button-up out of the trousers they were tucked in, rafe letting out a small groan when he felt your warm hand slowly trail up the line of his abs, "you know, i realized something…" you practically purred into his ear.

"yeah? what'd you realize, sweetie?" he asked, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, pressing small kisses on your warm skin, causing shivers to run down your spine, goosebumps starting to form all over your body.

"i'm ovulating." you whispered with a grin, before pulling back to see his reaction. rafe lifted his head, looking at you with half-lidded eyes and a small grin, his hands sliding down to rest on the curve of your ass.

"mmhm, 's that the case?" he asked, he shamelessly looking down at your tits, rafe's adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, your fingers starting to unbutton the buttons of his shirt, revealing more and more of his tanned chest, shivers running down his spine when he felt your manicured nails on the skin that you were slowly baring. "i guess we should take advantage of that, then."

you let out a small squeal when your husband lifted you into his arms without any difficulty, carrying you to the other side of his desk. rafe sat down on his chair, positioning you so that you were straddling him, his calming cerulean eyes gazing up into yours.

your hand moves to the nape of his neck, fingers gently playing with the short tendrils of hair there as you gaze down at him, the hint of a smile playing at your lips. rafe brought his hand closer to your face, his fingers curling under your chin, bringing your face to meet his, the sides of your noses pressed against one another, breaths mingling together before his lips brushed against yours.

and soon, rafe's shirt hung unbuttoned on his broad shoulders, your panties discarded on his desk, your body still mostly covered by your dress, his slacks and boxers at his ankles. the thumb of his left hand brushed against your hardened nipple over the fabric of your dress, a small gasp escaping your lips as your soaked entrance hovered over the tip of his cock, practically aching to sink itself down on him.

"you ready?" rafe whispered under you, pressing a featherlight kiss on your clothed nipple, and somehow even that was enough to make you dizzy; you couldn't speak, simply nodding, his hands slowly crawling up from the sides of your thighs up your dress until they were on your hips, rafe's touch so hot you thought he might leave burn marks. slowly, he started bringing your hips lower, a long drawn-out whimper leaving your lips when you finally felt rafe stretch you out; you'd been together for a long time but every time his cock entered you it felt like the first time.

even though you were the one straddling him, rafe was the one doing all the work. slowly, he lifted you up, before bringing you back down, your head thrown back, lost in all the bliss you were feeling, his lips attaching themselves to your neck, pressing soft kisses on your pulse point as you let out small, soft laughs when you felt his stubble on your skin.

although his lips moved away from your neck, rafe continued moving you on top of him by your hips, briefly bringing one of his hands to cup your cheek, making you look down at him, your eyes hazy and glossed over from the pleasure he was giving you.

"you look so gorgeous like this..." rafe whispered, letting out a grunt as he felt you deliberately clench yourself around him, the corners of your mouth quirking up into an adorable, almost shy smile, your cheeks feeling warmer due to his sweet words.

he moved his hand back to your hips, continuing to guide you up and down on his cock, slightly picking up his pace, whimpers leaving your lips whenever he bottomed out in you, hitting that one spot like it was nothing, when for you, it felt like everything.

"so damn gorgeous..." he mumbled against your skin, and as one of rafe's hands traveled down to your pussy, his thumb starting to draw languid circles on your clit, you started moving your hips just slightly faster, every part of you screaming that you needed more of him, needed to feel every part of him.

"please..." you whined, the tone of your voice making something in rafe's chest ache while also making the heat in his abdomen nearly double.

as his thumb picked up its pace, your head felt so beautifully blank; all you could focus on were the sensations running through your body, the fire he'd lit inside of you, and the orgasm you were already starting to feel approaching.

"please, i'm so close..." you whined, your words getting muddled with your moans.

your eyes were closed, unable to see the way your husband was admiring you, looking up at you with pupils blown so wide his blue eyes might as well have turned into the shape of a heart, and he continued bucking his hips up into you, both of you chasing your orgasms, the sound of squelching and moaning filling his office.

suddenly, he felt your walls spasming around his cock, your orgasm washing over you as you held on tight to his shoulders, your body shuddering with pleasure, moans leaving your lips without you even realizing it was happening.

rafe watched as you came undone, continuing to move inside of you even though your walls felt snug around him, the man starting to feel a familiar tightening in his abdomen.

"'m so close..." rafe mumbled, not even sure if you could hear him through the bubble of bliss you seemed to be encased in. "gonna come in you... gonna put a baby in you... you're gonna look so gorgeous with my baby in you..."

when you let out a soft whimper, trying to move yourself on his cock even though you were still riding out his orgasm, rafe groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck, loud whines leaving your lips when he fucked into you at a faster pace, rafe almost losing himself in you and the way you felt around him, knowing he'd never get enough of you, never get enough of having you like this.

it didn't take long until he let out a loud groan, and you felt ropes of his cum filling you, moving your hips slightly to make sure he was as deep inside of you as possible, the closeness feeling almost intoxicating.

neither one of you spoke for a while, and the only noise that could be heard in his office were the pants that slowly turned into regular breathing, and finally when it had settled, you pressed your forehead against rafe's, taking a deep breath.

you felt rafe's hand on your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin there, and it was like he was reading your thoughts; sometimes the way he knew you intimidated you, just because the thought of ever losing that scared the hell out of you.

"it's gonna happen." he said comfortingly, opening his eyes to look into yours, and you pulled your forehead away from his to do the same. you brought your hand to your abdomen, looking down at it while letting out a small sniffle, your tone laced with insecurity, "you think so?"

rafe pressed his hand over yours, and you wondered how someone could know exactly everything you thought and needed, his large, ringed hand somehow managing to soothe every single thought running through your mind.

"i know so, and i'm never wrong, am i?" he grinned smugly, making you roll your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

[ds-angel1]

TEACHERS LITTLE PET

cw: SMUT(18+), teacher x student relationship, hitting it from the back(in the classroom), big age gap(ages aren´t specified), reader is a senior, i´m not american and have no idea how the school system works so please just smile and nod

wc: ~ 5.1k

a/n: tell me what you think of this dynamic and if you want more cause i have some ideas!! also this is the longest fic i´ve ever written, not my best work but atleast i managed to write something?? keep in mind i had a fever when i wrote this

Rafe had no idea how he ended up here.

Well, if he was being honest, he did. He just hated admitting it.

He hated kids. Teenagers weren’t much better. If they weren’t whining about something trivial, they were loud, obnoxious, and bursting with opinions they thought were groundbreaking. And high schoolers? They were the worst of the lot, caught in that unbearable limbo between childhood and adulthood, convinced they knew everything and that the world had been tailor-made to inconvenience them.

He hated his job, too. But after his father had all but shoved him into college, and he had somehow managed to scrape together an art history degree through a chaotic jumble of barely thought-out course selections, he needed a paycheck. He needed something, anything, to make use of the four years he had spent drowning in essays about the Renaissance and lectures on the symbolism of Baroque architecture.

And there it was, a high school history teacher.

He was fairly certain the school had been desperate. Desperate enough to hire the first applicant who could string a coherent sentence together about the American Revolution. And lucky him, that applicant had been Rafe.

The school itself was unremarkable. Small, under 400 students, just two squat brick buildings separated by a weather-beaten schoolyard that reeked of stale cigarette smoke and teenage apathy. Five hours from the Outer Banks, he could visit home whenever he wanted. Not that he did. There was nothing left for him there, nothing worth the drive, and frankly, there was nothing for him here either.

His days were a loop, a monotonous, uninspired cycle of standing in front of rows of disinterested, hormonal teenagers, rattling off lessons about long-dead historical figures far more interesting than any of his students would ever bother to realize. He graded half-assed essays, endured halfhearted excuses about missing assignments, and spent more time than he cared to admit staring at the clock, willing the hours to pass. Then, when the final bell rang, he trudged back to his apartment, a bare, impersonal space that he never bothered to decorate. No photos, no art, and no signs that anyone lived there. Just a bed, a couch, and a kitchen table that mostly went unused.

And then there were the truly miserable days, the ones where he was roped into subbing for freshman P.E., a biweekly exercise in self-inflicted torture. Half the girls refused to break a sweat, acting as if running a single lap would somehow lead to their untimely demise. The other half of the class consisted of cocky, over-competitive boys who treated dodgeball like a blood sport. He spent most of those periods standing on the sidelines, arms crossed, blowing the whistle when things got too heated, and watching the clock even more desperately than usual.

It was a dull, uninspired existence; monotonous, predictable, and entirely void of passion. He lived his life the way his students listened to the outdated documentaries he played in class: half-awake, uninterested, just going through the motions because it had to be done.

Until you walked into his class.

The first day of school after summer break always carried a certain energy; electric, restless, filled with voices overlapping in an unfiltered rush of stories from the last few weeks. As Rafe pushed open the door to his classroom, that familiar wave of chatter hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Laughter, exclamations, the scrape of chairs against the floor—it was all as chaotic as he had expected.

With a quiet sigh, he made his way to his desk, setting his thermos down on the bleached oak surface before picking it up again almost instinctively, taking a slow sip before returning it to its place. His fingers moved on autopilot, retrieving his school-issued laptop from his bag, pressing the power button, and waiting for the screen to glow to life. His gaze lifted, sweeping across the students, his students. The same faces he’d taught last year, now a little older, a little different, officially juniors.

But one face wasn’t familiar.

You.

Rafe spotted you almost immediately, sitting in the third row, right by the window where the morning sky stretched in endless hues of soft blue. You were listening—well, nodding, at least—to Amanda, whose mouth moved a mile a minute. He didn’t have to hear her know she was spewing an endless stream of conversation; Amanda was known for filling any silence, anytime, anywhere. But his attention wasn’t on her. It was on you.

A dark navy skirt draped over your thighs, the fabric shifting in gentle waves with every slight movement. Your top, a delicate white spaghetti strap with tiny baby blue flowers, hugged your frame, lace tracing the neckline, a small bow nestled right at its center. A beige cardigan hung loosely over your shoulders, two buttons left undone as if they had never been intended for use in the first place. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail, not rigid, not loose, just… effortless. A few strands framed your face, soft wisps that moved when you turned your head, catching the light in a way that made them seem almost ethereal.

And sure, you looked beautiful, undeniably so. But it wasn’t just that.

It was the way your eyes flickered around the room, quietly observing, absorbing. The way your lips parted slightly every so often, murmuring the occasional “Uh-huh” or “Yeah” in response to Amanda’s nonstop chatter, even as your mind seemed elsewhere. There was something in your expression, an almost hesitant curiosity, a quiet awareness, that made Rafe’s fingers pause over the laptop’s keyboard.

He had seen many faces in this classroom. Some familiar, some forgettable.

But yours?

Yours was impossible to ignore.

"Uh— okay, let’s get started. Settle down," Rafe called out to the students, his voice steady despite the chaos. The room buzzed with post-summer chatter, desks scraping against the floor as students found their seats. He rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to exhale. The first day back was always like this, full of energy, distractions, and the struggle to rein everyone in. But today, there was another battle brewing beneath the surface, one he wasn’t prepared for.

He hoped that once the lesson began, he could shift his focus, and force himself to look anywhere but at you. He clung to that hope like a lifeline, but the moment he commanded their attention, he had yours.

And when your eyes locked onto him, he was trapped. Hypnotized. His breath hitched, pulse stuttering in a way it had no right to. For what felt like an eternity, he couldn’t tear his gaze away, couldn’t shake the invisible thread tightening between you. His fingers curled into his palm, nails pressing against his skin.

Shit.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to snap out of it, dragging his attention back to the board. He took a measured breath, gripping the chalk like it might anchor him. "Alright, I know you’re all still in vacation mode, but we need to get talking about history."

The usual grumbling came, but it was muted, fading as students settled into their seats. Good. The routine was safe. The routine was predictable. The routine wouldn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

"Before we dive in, we have a new student joining us this year from the senior class," he announced, keeping his tone even, impersonal. His gaze flickered back to you, just for a second, just long enough to acknowledge you without giving himself away. "Would you introduce yourself?"

A brief silence. You hesitated, shifting under the weight of so many eyes before murmuring your name.

"Great," Rafe said, far too quickly. He cleared his throat, turning back to the board. "So, what do we know about American history from the Industrial Revolution to the modern age?"

The next forty-five minutes passed in a blur of discussion, textbook readings, and writing exercises. Normally, this was when he’d catch up on grading or chip away at whatever administrative work he had. But today? No. Today, his focus splintered, frayed at the edges every time he felt your presence in the room.

His eyes kept drifting.

To you.

It was reckless. Stupid. He knew it was wrong, knew exactly how it would look if anyone noticed. He wasn’t blind, he’d found students attractive before, but it had always been a fleeting thing, a passing thought dismissed before it could take root. A moment, nothing more.

But this?

This was different.

This wasn’t just acknowledging that you were pretty, though you were. Incredibly so. This wasn’t just an absent-minded recognition of beauty. No, this was something deeper. Something that twisted in his gut and settled in his bones, something that made his breath catch when he wasn’t prepared for it.

Something dangerous.

His fingers raked through his hair as he stared down at his keyboard, typing nothing. He could tell himself it was just a dry spell, that he’d been avoiding distractions for too long, that it was simply physical. But that would be a lie.

Because it wasn’t just about desire.

It was about you.

And that was a problem.

The shrill chime of the bell split the air, and the classroom erupted into motion. Notebooks snapped shut, chairs scraped against the tile, and a low hum of voices swelled as students shoved books into backpacks, eager to escape into the chaotic freedom of lunch. You swung your bag over your shoulder, weaving through the shifting maze of desks, your focus locked on the door. The cafeteria was called, an oasis of noise and anonymity where you could blend in, and where no one was analyzing your every move.

But just as you stepped forward, a voice cut through the chatter behind you.

"Hey."

It wasn’t loud, but it had weight, like an anchor dropping into the sea of departing students. Something in the tone made your stomach twist. You turned, pulse hitching slightly, to find Mr. Cameron watching you from behind his desk. His expression was unreadable, calm but not necessarily kind.

"Yes, Mr. Cameron?" you asked, hesitating.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?"

It was phrased like a question, but you both knew it wasn’t. He gave a small nod toward the door as the last few stragglers trickled out, a silent instruction.

With a quiet sigh, you nudged the door shut behind them, the click of the latch sealing you in. The classroom, so full of life just seconds ago, now felt cavernous, the quiet pressing in around you. You hesitated before making your way back to his desk, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Mr. Cameron leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the surface of his desk, fingers steepled together. "So… I wanted to talk to you about last year." His voice was measured, and neutral, but something about it put you on edge. "You were in Ms. Wallace’s class, right?" His eyes flicked to a sheet of paper in front of him, though you were certain he already knew the answer.

You shifted uncomfortably. "Mhm." A simple answer for something far more complicated. Your history with Ms. Wallace wasn’t just a class; it was a long, exhausting battle, a relentless tug-of-war between frustration, unmet expectations, and a sinking feeling of inevitability.

Mr. Cameron studied you for a moment before speaking again. "Can you tell me what didn’t work? Was it her? The material? Her teaching style? Or was it something on your end?" His head tilted slightly, voice smooth, probing.

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your fingers clenched the strap of your bag. "I guess I was just… kind of unfocused last year," you admitted, your voice barely above a murmur.

"Mm." He hummed, eyebrows lifting just slightly. "Just last year?"

Your stomach tightened.

"Because judging by today’s lesson, it seems like you're still a little… distracted. More interested in doodles than in history, huh?"

Heat crept up your neck, shame pooling in your chest. Your gaze dropped to the floor as if looking anywhere else might soften the weight of his words.

"You’d think," he continued, his tone carrying the faintest edge, "that after the school let you pass the year and only required you to retake this class, you'd put in a little more effort."

His words landed like a slap, sharp, deliberate. He knew exactly how unfair that was. Knew how it would make you feel. And yet, for whatever reason, he didn’t stop himself.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“You want to pass, yes?”

His voice was low, almost teasing, each word curling around you like smoke. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his desk, dark eyes locked onto yours with something unreadable, something that made your stomach twist.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, and gave a quick, eager nod.

Rafe watched you for a lingering second, dragging it out just long enough to make you shift where you stood. Then, with an exhale that was almost too casual, he pushed himself up from his chair. He didn’t simply stand, he moved. Slow. Deliberate. A quiet display of control as he braced one hand against the edge of his desk, his weight settling into a lean. The aged wood creaked under him, but he didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care.

His focus remained entirely on you.

“And what do you think I could do to help you achieve that?”

Smooth. Measured. But there was something else beneath his tone, something just sharp enough to catch. Playfulness, maybe. Amusement. Or something more dangerous.

His gaze flickered, sweeping over you in a way that felt too quick at first, like a reflex he hadn’t meant to act on. But then, you saw it. The hesitation. The way his throat bobbed, how his fingers flexed at his sides before he rubbed the back of his neck as if trying to shake off whatever had just slipped through the cracks. But it was too late.

You had seen.

And by the way, his jaw clenched a second later, the way his lips pressed together, you knew he realized it too.

Your heart hammered. You didn’t answer him. Couldn’t. Instead, your fingers fidgeted with each other, twisting and untwisting, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. The silence between you stretched, thick and electric, heavy with something unspoken, something neither of you dared name but both of you felt.

Rafe inhaled deeply, the sound filling the quiet space between you. The air itself seemed different now, charged, like something unseen was pressing in, urging one of you to break.

He let the breath out slowly, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that somehow felt… controlled. Intentional. And then, his eyes moved again.

This time, there was no rush. No flicker of hesitation.

Now, he studied you.

It was slow, almost methodical, th

6e kind of look that made heat crawl up the back of your neck, the kind that lingered just long enough in places that made you second-guess every inch of yourself. When his gaze reached your thighs, a nervous jolt ran through you. Almost instinctively, you gripped the hem of your skirt, twisting the fabric in your fists, your knuckles turning white.

A nervous habit.

One he noticed.

One that made his eyes darken, not dramatically, not in some exaggerated, obvious way, but just enough. Just enough for you to catch the shift, to see the amusement flicker across his face like the hint of a smirk he didn’t fully let through.

“Hm?” The questioning hum he let out brought you back to reality, back to his question, and back to the answer that you had yet to give.

“Um… I- I don’t know…” you stammered out.

His eyes flick down again, taking in your upper body, eyes practically circling in on your chest. As if your body has a mind of its own, you straighten your back, puffing out your chest.

Rafe’s eyes flickered up to yours, and for a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

The air between you had thickened, dense with something unspoken, something dangerous. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, slow, almost pensive as if he were considering something he shouldn’t be. He exhaled sharply through his nose, a breath that almost sounded like a laugh but carried no humor, just tension.

“Yeah?” His voice was softer now, quieter like he was testing the waters, like he was trying to figure out how far this would go before one of you came to your senses.

Your lips parted, but no words came. Your throat felt tight, your skin burning where his gaze traced. You felt like you were standing on the edge of something vast, something that couldn’t be undone.

His fingers tapped once, twice against the desk, a steady rhythm that contradicted the barely concealed restraint in his posture. His body language told two different stories, one of hesitation, and another of inevitability. He was too close, and yet he wasn’t moving away.

Your breath hitched as he shifted, his body angling just slightly towards yours. It was a minuscule movement, one that could’ve been mistaken for a simple change in weight, but you knew better. It was deliberate. Calculated.

“You want to pass this class?”

The question was a mere whisper, his voice dipped in something that made your stomach twist. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, nodding, too fast, too eager.

His lips twitched, almost smirking like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He leaned in just enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne, something dark and musky, something entirely him.

“Then you’re gonna have to focus.”

The way he said it—low, deliberate—sent a shiver down your spine. His words weren’t inappropriate, but the way he looked at you, the way his voice wrapped around each syllable, made them feel like something else entirely.

Your knees felt weak, your heart pounding against your ribcage as your grip tightened around the strap of your bag. The classroom, once suffocating in its quiet, now felt electric, charged with a current that neither of you dared acknowledge aloud.

Rafe exhaled again, this time slower, measured. His hand moved, not towards you, not touching, but close enough that you felt the shift in air between you.

“You’re nervous.”

It wasn’t a question.

Your breath shuddered. “I—”

His head tilted slightly, watching, waiting. His pupils were blown wide, his expression unreadable but entirely focused on you.

His jaw ticked, his fingers twitching at his side like he was fighting something. A beat of silence stretched between you.

And then, Rafe moved.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t forceful. It was a slow descent, a moment stretched into eternity. His lips hovered just above yours, close enough that you felt the ghost of his breath against your skin, close enough that your lips parted in anticipation before your mind could catch up.

He paused—just for a fraction of a second, just enough to give you the chance to pull away. Just enough to make it clear that if this happened, it was your choice, too.

But you didn’t move away.

Neither did he.

And before you could let a single other breath out, his lips met yours.

Soft at first. Testing. A barely-there brush that sent a sharp current through your veins, igniting something dangerous and uncontainable in your chest.

He exhaled against your mouth, and in that moment it seemed like something in him snapped.

His hand found your waist, fingers splaying against the fabric of your cardigan as he pulled you just slightly closer. His other hand lifted, skimming along your jaw before his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head just so.

The kiss deepened, slow but demanding, every movement deliberate, every touch igniting another spark beneath your skin. He wasn’t rushing—no, he was savoring, taking his time like he wanted to memorize the exact way you fit against him. He knew this was a mistake but couldn’t bring himself to care.

Your hands found his chest, pressing lightly against the fabric of his dress shirt, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms. His fingers tightened slightly in your hair at the contact, his grip on your waist firm but careful, as if he was anchoring himself as much as he was anchoring you.

The sharp sound of footsteps in the hallway shattered the fragile haze that had settled between you two, yanking you both back into reality.

Rafe was the first to react, pulling away, but only just. His forehead remained pressed against yours, his breath still ragged, chest rising and falling in sync with yours. His fingers, warm and possessive, lingered at your waist a second too long before he finally, finally, let go, stepping back just enough to put a sliver of space between you. But not enough to erase what had just happened.

His eyes searched yours, dark blue depths swirling with something unreadable, something dangerous. His exhale was sharp, tension coiling through his jaw as he dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping at the strands like he was trying to ground himself.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, voice rough and uneven. Then, with more force, “Fuck. Fuck.”

His eyes shut tight, his head shaking in frustration as if the motion itself could erase the last few minutes. When they opened again, they were filled with something even more intense. In two strides, he was in front of you again, his hands gripping your upper arms, fingertips pressing just a little too hard, just enough to make you feel trapped between the heat of his body and the reality of the situation.

“This didn’t happen, okay?” His voice was firm, but there was a slight tremor to it like he wasn’t sure if he believed the words himself. His grip tightened before loosening again, as if he was at war with himself as if he didn’t trust his restraint.

You didn’t answer. You just stared at him, your pulse thrumming wildly, your breath uneven. His eyes flickered down to your parted lips, then back to your eyes, and something in him cracked. His hands slid down your arms in a slow, deliberate motion, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When his fingertips finally settled at your hipbones, pressing in lightly, his resolve wavered even more.

“This…” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

His voice was different now, lower, more raw. His fingers traced absent patterns along the fabric of your skirt as his mind spiraled, thoughts tumbling into a chaotic storm. Why was he doing this? This wasn’t like him. He had met you, his student, his goddamn student, less than an hour ago, and he had already crossed every possible line. And yet, even knowing that he wasn’t pulling away. He was moving closer.

His hands ghosted up your sides, the touch sending shivers across your skin. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t tell anyone. Can you do that for me?”

If someone had asked you that morning how you thought your first day of senior year would go, never in a million years would you have said this? Sure, you’d heard the whispers in the halls, and seen the way every girl’s eyes lingered when he walked past. Mr. Cameron was the forbidden fantasy, the subject of countless rumors and stolen glances. But he was also your teacher. And he had just kissed you.

You knew it was wrong. You should run, tell someone, do the right thing. And yet, as your mind battled between logic and desire, only one thought rose above the rest: he had kissed you.

Mr. Cameron, the man every girl in school lusted after, had kissed you. Had he done this before? Had he chosen others before you? Or was this different?

Even as doubt twisted itself into a tight knot in your stomach, you found yourself nodding, unable to speak, afraid your voice would betray you with the high-pitched, breathy sound of a girl who had just been touched by fire and didn’t want to step away.

“Good.”

His voice was barely a whisper, almost more breath than sound. The tension in the room grew, thick and suffocating, but you didn’t want to breathe anything else in. His fingers glided upward again, teasing over your waist, grazing over your ribs, leaving a trail of heat that made your entire body burn with anticipation.

Then, gently, with a tenderness that contradicted the fevered hunger in his eyes, he cupped your face. For one impossible moment, you thought he was going to kiss you again, that he was going to throw every bit of logic and control out the window and claim your lips as he had minutes ago. But instead, he tilted your head slightly, his breath warm against your throat.

Then his lips were on your neck, barely touching, soft and slow.

A sound, something between a gasp and a whimper, escaped you, and his hands tightened ever so slightly, grounding you, making you feel small under his grasp. His mouth moved lower, pressing another kiss, and then another, each one more deliberate, more intoxicating than the last.

You barely registered the moment he turned you around, your back now facing him. Your hands trembled as they found purchase against the smooth surface of his desk, the dark wood cool beneath your fingertips.

Then, with the kind of confidence that sent a shiver racing down your spine, he placed his hands on your thighs, massaging them slowly, possessively.

His voice, low and dripping with something dark and dangerous, ghosted over your ear.

“Stay quiet for me.”

You sucked in a deep, long breath, letting your head fall and your eyes close.

The feel of the Rafe´s fingers slid under the skirt and the pads of his fingers started tracing along your panties, each tiny motion making your body stutter and tremble.

“You´re… you´re real special, you know that?” He spoke from behind you but you couldn’t respond, still holding your breath as if letting out the air would make the situation you found yourself in truly real.

When he had had enough of feeling the warm, twisted feeling in his stomach as he let his fingers glide over your clothed cunt, he pushed your underwear aside with his thumb, letting the tip of his index finger dip into your already quivering hole. The action intensified the feeling and buried it even deeper in his gut.

As if a shock of lightning had hit you, you bolted away from his hand a few inches, clenching your thighs tightly as you finally relieved your lungs of the air they were keeping trapped.

“M- Mr. Cameron…” You started to sputter out but stopped when you felt long, gruff fingers curl around the sides of your panties before pulling the black lace material down tantalizingly slow.

A cold rush of air hit your most intimate body part, making you gasp and pant. When you heard rustling and what you could only assume was the clink of your teacher´s belt, you shut your mouth and froze as you waited for the man´s next move.

“Listen,” he whispered your name like it was a sin he committed and you were a pastor, “You understand that this stays between us, yes?” His large hands massaged your ass and thighs, cursing under his breath when he saw how soaked you were.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement. You weren´t sure why. He was your teacher and by the looks of it and the feel of his hands on you, apparently a pedophile. But god did you want this; you wanted it, him, so bad.

Before you could so much as even let another thought pass through your head, he thrust forward, burying his cock inside you as deep as he could with multiple rapid movements of his hips. You moaned and practically screamed, the sounds of pleasure from you making Rafe reach around and cover practically half of your entire face.

“Fuck, you´re so tight,” he muttered sharply next to your ear as he started moving inside of you again, dragging his hips back only to snap them back forward less than a moment later.

“You like that, huh? Like being fucked by your teacher. Little teachers pet.”

He knew this was wrong, you were his student, and you probably didn´t even actually want this but for some fucked up reason that made it even better for Rafe, and as the thought crossed his mind it only made him thrust into you faster. At that point, you were damn near choking and sobbing into his hand, his palm making it hard for you to get a deep breath of fresh air in.

With a sense of panic taking over you, you tried to move your hands off of the desk to claw him off of your face but your attempts proved futile when Rafe pushed you flat onto the desk, forcing you to take his cock even deeper.

His free hand which wasn´t taking away your ability to breathe, found its way between your legs, his index, and middle fingers drawing squiggly circles on your clit. At the shock of pleasure that ran through you as he teased your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves, you clenched around his pipe and arched your back. You felt that familiar coil spring up in the depths of your stomach, your body rocking slightly backward against Rafe´s to help you relive the press soon.

Rafe pushed into you harder than he had any of the other time before then, hitting your sweet spot with a force that would have made you cry out, had you had your mouth free. His fingers applied pressure to the shapes they were making on your clit. The mix of heightened attention and force made your pussy squeeze around him and pushed you over the edge, coming with tears in your eyes.

After a few more brutal thrusts into your soppy cunt, he came as well, unloading into you, his thoughts barely registering anything at that point except for you and your body bent over his desk, his cum dripping out of your used up hole and onto your thighs.

Slowly he took away his hand from your face, a trail of spit following. As soon as you got a few much-needed breaths, you collapsed onto the desk, your body falling limp. Rafe pulled out of you, not wasting any time before he pulled his pants back on and redid his leather belt around his hips. He leaned over you, his body covering all of your sweaty skin as he dressed you in your underwear again.

“You did so good, darling. So, so good."

[littledes1re]

In the car, in the car, in the backseat, i‘m your baby.

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

Summery: it’s summer break and you are spending it by your parent’s house and your father’s best buddy is also there. The one you tried to fuck for years and finally it’s happening.

Warnings: 18+, oral (m!receiving), big teasing, sub!joel, insecure joel, he has some body and age issues, riding him in his car, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names, m!body worship (hell yea), age gap! (reader is 23, joel is in his late 40’s), Sarah is like 10 in this, no outbreak.

A/N: Still haven’t recovered from that episode and i’m kinda scared of the new one…😀 BUT! First time writing dbf!joel which is like my fav trope on here, this is more smutty than anything but I will write a more angsty one in the future🤞🏻

Summer break at your parents house were not exciting because you saw them again. They were not exciting because of the food your mom would cook, not because of the barbecue party your father threw every time. It wasn’t exciting because you saw your childhood bedroom again, even tho it felt good sleeping there once more as you kind of missed your childhood but no— you were excited about seeing him again.

Joel Miller.

Your fathers best buddy.

He was his best friend for as long as you could remember. They met at the construction company joel owns and since then they were spending every single weekend together. And after Joel broke things up with his wife and got custody over Sarah—his daughter, he somehow became a family member as much as he was visiting and helping around.

This was a huge deal for you.

Joel got so so much hotter after his divorce. He was always hot but after that he suddenly grew more of his beard out, biceps got bigger, he leaned more into the dad bod and he slicked his hair back that slowly turned grey. It was killing you, always having him over for the holidays or some special events, your thoughts were just only on him and they were dirty. But deep down you kinda felt bad. He was a nice and sweet man, doing the best for his daughter and being a best friend for your family, you could trust him with everything. It felt wrong reducing him just for his looks.

But that didn’t stop you. You wanted to fuck him.

And you always tried to. Every god damn year.

You can remember one years ago, you were trying the same thing. A summer break, visiting the family and joel also being there, a sweet little barbecue evening with your family. And after the party ended and the sun slowly start to set, you saw him sitting on the couch, drinking his beer while looking trough his phone.

And hell, he wasn’t stupid.

He saw the way you looked at him hours ago. He saw the was your eyes scanned his body up and down all the time, trying to not catch his gaze as he sat with you on the dinner table, your cheeks blushing whenever he caught you looking. The little summer dress you wore, barely covering knees as you bend over besides him, showing him the panties you wore and doing that so sneakily that so nobody around you saw that.

And you can’t believe how bold you were on that day. As he sat on the couch you came over to him, sitting on down on the other side and putting your legs up, your feet landing on his lap. He sighed, putting his drink and phone down.

“You’re trouble.” He murmured, gripping your ankles and yanking them from his lap earning a gasp from you.

“Heyy, don’t be so mean. I didn’t do anything! Just let me rest my feet.”

“Is that so, hm?” His jaw was clenched, eyebrows pinched he looked at you. The slicked back hair, his tanned skin and his big board shoulders made you absolutely feral.

“Mhm, yea! since when did you become so mean joel? You were always nice to me” you fake pouted, seeing him swallow looking around the room and sighing.

“I was nice to you before you started to cause so much trouble, girl.”

“I don’t even know what you are talking about.” You shrugged your shoulders, acting so clueless. You put your feet back on his lap, precisely on his bulge that you already saw forming on that day many, many times before.

He just looked at you, his face not pleased as he put his hands on your leg and squeezed as a warning and went back on his phone with a disappointed small shook of his head. He couldn’t be mad at you, your father would absolutely tear him to pieces, you knew that.

You were absolutely dripping after that, still feeling the hand on there whenever you thought about it, to this day.

So today you were going to see him again. Already standing in front of your mirror trying to find the best thing to wear, because this time, you were going to fuck this man. Your choice was simple but effective as always. A small white sundress. Perfect for this breezy summer day. And perfect for Joel too, you knew it.

The day began slowly with you helping your mom and dad make the garden as comfortable as possible, table put, chairs, some sweet radio playing summer hits, gras was recently trimmed, a cool box ready to keep beer cool, the beautiful flowers your mom planted saying hello and oh!— There was the doorbell.

He was there.

Excitement run through your body, warmth spread all over you and your cheeks heated as you saw him coming in. Sarah besides him already grown so much.

But you only looked at him.

Almost the same clothes, same board shoulders, huge frame, hair slicked back and his hair and beard got just a tiny bit more grey which made you almost lightheaded. There was this tan on him again, sweat was dripping from his forehead, his hands looked like he just worked hard, he probably came from his job. And his smell. His usual cologne mixed with the smell of the Marlboro reds he always smokes and tad bit of sweat. You were absolutely going feral and if no one saw you in this room you would be drooling.

“Hey, sweets” his rough voice greeted you, opening his arms for a big hug. You embraced him, hugging his huge body tight as you used that opportunity to really inhale his scent and make up for the days you missed him. He kissed the top of your head and let go of the hug, looking at you up and down, his gaze staring a bit too long on your legs. Even tho he acted as normal as possible there was still uncomfortable air between you two.

“And everything alright so far?”

“Yea, everything fine. What about you and sarah?” You asked smiling softly.

“jus’ the same old. Sarah was actually very happy about the gift you send her, so thank you, girl.”

You smiled again, you loved Sarah and never missed her birthdays even tho you were away. She was the sweetest girl and you loved spending time with her whenever you could.

“That’s why she avoiding me right now? Where is she?” You looked around the room.

“Ah there she comes again, got a little sweet treat from your mom I suppose.” He chuckled as Sarah walked to you a bonbon in her hand and the biggest smile, she hugged you.

The day was going well. So far.

You were playing with Sarah while the "grown-ups" sat at the table, talking about everything they've missed lately. Every time you heard his voice, however, you looked for his eyes. But he absolutely wasn't looking at you. He laughed a lot, talked a lot, but never looked over to meet your eyes. You could just feel the way he wanted to avoid you, to make it really seem like nothing happened and maybe you were just messing with him. But you were not going to let this go so easily.

“Sweetheart, can you go with Joel? While he buys the charcoal, you buy this list I made you.”

Jackpot.

This is the moment you were waiting for. An opportunity. On Joel’s face you could read how he was absolutely not fond of this idea. Your father needed charcoal for the grill and conveniently, Joel wanted to be the one to get it with his truck and even more conveniently was it for your mother to want you to go with him so you could buy a few groceries that were still needed for the party.

But joel couldn’t just say no. Your parents knew that you two had a good relationship so they would question on why he would not want to go with you.

So you and joel made your way to his truck, he did not once look at you or talked to you. He completely avoided you just like the whole day but you knew this was going to change.

It’s been so long since you were in his car, he was a clean man so nothing changed, everything still smelled like leather, a picture of sarah hanging on his mirror, with that an air refresher.

The windows were open, you were enjoying the fresh summer breeze as he drove to the next best grocery store, still not even looking or talking to you. But him driving was another level of hot. His big arm on the steering wheel, flexing his muscles, one hand on his chin as he looked concentrated to the streets. Eyebrows pinched and all grumpy.

You laid a tiny bit back on your seat, gently and sneaky putting the hem of your dress up till it reached your thighs. You opened a little bit your legs, laid your head on your hand and leaned to the door, sighing trying to get his attention.

You saw his grip getting tighter on the wheel, his expression changing into that of someone who was barely controlling himself. And then you caught him, just with a little side eye he looked down on your thighs.

You got him.

He was sweating more than usual beside you, you could see the little pearls forming on his forehead, his jaw was clenched and the concentration he built while driving away from your house completely left him.

You bit your lips, tracing your hand up and down your thigh slowly. Making circles, teasing yourself and him.

“Joel.” You called out, your hand still on your thigh as you looked at him with a pout and tried your best to put on your pretty doe eyes.

He first looked at you, trying to act like his bulge wasn’t growing in his pants and then his eyes fell to your thighs again, he followed your hand going up and down, he cleared his throat and then swallowed.

Poor guy.

“What.” He murmured his voice not pleased and not kind like as you greeted him today. You wonder what happened.

“How long till we arrive? I’m hot.”

You saw him rolling his eyes, sighing as he turned his head to you.

“Rolled the windows for you down, ain’t that enough girl? We arrive in like 5 minutes, be patient.”

His tone was stern and you didn’t except him to be this harsh by the way he was talking with you. So you crossed your arms and looked at him, trying to act all angry but in a playful manner. His face didn’t change a bit, he didn’t give you a smile, a wink, nothing. His eyebrows were still pinched and jaw clenched he drove you two to the store and parked.

He walked in straight without saying nothing, he was fast, doing everything to avoid you.

It had been 10 minutes and you already had the things your mom put into the list she gave you and now you waited for Joel. You didn’t even know where he was, let alone when he was coming. So you tried to catch his attention.

You stood there and spoke to an employee, a normal young guy who doesn’t look older than 23. You turned a strand of hair on your finger, leaning to the side and laughed about nonsense, making it seem like you were flirting. And then you saw him.

He was standing there with narrowed eyes the charcoal in one of his hand and the other one on his hip. He stood there jaw clenched looking like he was trying to control himself not to take apart the poor guy you were talking to.

“Girl, c’mon now. We ain’t got all day.” He suddenly almost yelled to you. The boy you were talking to flinched and you had to suppress a giggle.

As he paid for the stuff you walked to the car again and waited for him to come. He came with the two bags in his hands, opening the cockpit and putting the things in. But he suddenly stopped there, looking to you as he wanted to say something.

“What?” You asked

“You’re gonna get us both in trouble.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” You still tried to act all clueless.

“Sweetheart. I know what ya’ doin’. It ain’t gonna work on me.“ his voice sounded softer but he was being serious.

“It’s already working tho.” You pointed down to his bulge, biting your lips by doing so.

He looked around the parking spot, his whole face flushing red. You kinda fell bad for him, exposing him like that but he was giving you a hard time so one way or another it had to happen.

“You get in the fucking car.” He suddenly spit out, you heard his loud boots walking to you as he quickly grabbed your arm and yanked you to the passenger seat.

“Hey! Ow, that hurt, you asshole.” You muttered out, as he sat you down on the seat and put your seat belt on.

He didn’t even say anything after that, he was furios. The car started as you sat there with crossed arms and this time being really angry and disappointed at him. The car suddenly slowed down and he looked at you, his gaze softening and a sigh leaving his lips.

“Baby, I don’t even know what you want from a man like me.” He said, his voice sounding genuine and warm.

You looked at him dumbfounded

“Look got all these grey hair, haven’t been able to go to the barber shop for god knows how long and I trim my beard but it’s still messy, and heck— look— look at my body. Ain’t the one I was once.”

Your eyes widened. He wasn’t being serious right now, right? You have never seen a more handsome man than him and that after he started to look like how he just described. He was waiting for an answer with those big puppy dog eyes, from his stern and harsh manner was no trace left.

Instead of an answer, you slowly and gently neared your hand on his thigh. Feeling the rough material of his jeans underneath your fingertips, you softly stroked his thigh. You heard him shudder under his breath, his body sitting up, just like his cock. The bulge was growing just more and you wanted to tease him more.

But most importantly you wanted to show him how pretty he is.

“Ain’t gonna let me go so easily, huh?” He mumbled softly, earning a giggle and a shook of your head.

You leaned over, putting your seatbelt away and slowly unbuttoned his flannel shirt. His breath hitched, suddenly steering the car towards the side and stopping it on the field of gras.

He dropped his hands from the wheel and let you fully take control. You opened his shirt, greeted with a beautiful body, the one you just dreamed of having on top of you. His chest hairy going down to his soft belly and then a pretty salt and pepper happy trail. You were drooling.

You didn’t waste any time as you softly rubbed your hands over his chest, leaning in to gently kiss him, working yourself down, kissing his belly and happy trail.

“Jesus christ, girl.” His head was thrown back but he was watching you. You hummed, biting down his breast, then neck, and suckling on his skin. His breathing was coming quickly, you could feel his poor heart beating at a higher rate.

“You don’t even know.” You mumbled, slightly standing up and kneeling on your seat, now your body was completely turned to him and this way you had full access to his body.

“Don’t even know how fucking sexy you are.”

One of your hand went to his bulge squeezing him earning a groan and a desperate buck of his hips. Your mouth continued to work on his tanned body, kissing his collarbones, nipping at his skin.

He was whining.

“Sweet girl.” He groaned as he made his way to your waist, squeezing you there then making a stop on your back because now you were unbuckling him. Pulling his pants down, you gently stroked his hardened cock through his shorts, seeing a small spot getting wet, knowing it’s pre cum. You decided to tease him more as you pulled his briefs slightly down so his bush was out. Your face diving into the hair, kissing him and smothering in it while rubbing his shaft up and down. Slowly you licked your way from his happy trail to his chest to his neck and then landed on his lips.

You kissed him, catching him by surprise as he moaned into your mouth. Hot breaths left him, your hand never stopping on his dick. He took your cheeks into his hands and deepened the kiss, messily making out with you. It was unbearable for you too. You finally had him where you wanted, as his beautiful lips kissed you, you drooled down your chin, bit landing on his briefs, mixing with the pre cum that was already oozing out of the material.

Whining out loud you broke the kiss, taking in deep breaths as he looked at you. His puppy eyes, trying not to squeeze with pleasure, his lower lip trembling.

“Baby—fuck. What are you doing to me hm?” He took your chin between his fingers.

“If your daddy finds out what we are doin’, whatcha gonna say to him?”

“That his best buddy’s cock was hardening every time I was around and that I decided to help him out.” You shrugged your shoulders, smirking at him as he looked at you dumbfounded, he was clenching his jaw, veins popping up on his neck, he was close.

You pulled his shorts finally down. Revealing his big cock, red and switching. He could never be insecure, that was a blatant lie. He was beautiful, the big mushroom head red and glistening, veins trailing down and his big salt and pepper bush was covering his balls.

You squeezed your own thighs to relieve some friction. Gently grabbing the base of his shaft, you squeezed to the top, smearing the pre cum on his tip earning a big hiss. He gripped your arm tighter, the other hand gripping the car door.

You looked at him through your eyelashes batting them one and two times before starting with kitten licks on his head. You kissed down, licked and enjoyed the way he was a big mess under you.

“Please, fuck— please baby.” His voice was coming out shaky, the rough man from before was now completely gone.

You smiled, finally opening your mouth and taking him in. Swirling your tongue first around his tip then slowly sinking and hollowing your cheeks as you went up and down. His hips were bucking into your mouth as he released moan after moan.

“Y’look so fucking beautiful, sweets. So fucking beautiful.” He said through gritted teeth.

Your one hand wrapped around his base, and the other one down his balls, taking them and messaging them. Joel’s eyes were shut down as the pleasure overcame him. You felt him pulse one and two times on your tongue and he was shooting his cum into your mouth.

He gripped your hair, putting it in a ponytail and gently moved your head up and down the way he liked. His legs were shaking and his chest was going up and down as he released his last drops of sperm and let go of your hair, taking a deep breath and laying there almost boneless.

You swallowed, gently stroking him for a few more times and then letting him go soft, laying his dick down. You sat up, seeing his face being all soft and sweaty. His eyes droopy and breathing heavy. He looked fucked out. And you didn’t even fuck him yet.

Your hand slowly traced down your dress, as you sat down, leaned back and strategically removed your soaked panties. You held them in front of his face, swaying them left to right, making him chuckle.

“S’that what ya wanted the whole time? Tempting me right in front of your daddy.”

“Mhm, s’what I wanted, joel.” You mumbled, your body laid on your seat as you opened your legs, your fingers finding your soaked pussy, gathering some of the wetness and bringing it slowly to his mouth.

He immediately opened them and sucked on your fingers, his cock starting to pulse again, as you giggled.

“Don’t even know how long, I wanted you joel. Always made myself cum by thinking of you.”

You pulled your fingers out, going down to your cunt again and hooking them in, gently thrusting them in and out while whining into the car.

“Fuck baby. Can’t say shit like that. If I knew you were serious I would’ve already took you to the bathroom, bent you over and fucked you.”

His hand pulled the hem of your dress up, revealing your swollen cunt to him. He gently laid one thumb on your clit and started rubbing in a steady place.

“Hmph— was always serious. Always wanted you to fuck me always, always.” Now you were the one turning into a mess as your fingers pumped in your pussy, his thumb pressing and rubbing just the perfect way.

His other hand took his cock into his hand, jerking up and down, his shaft harding again as the sweat on his face began again.

“C’mon, c’mere then.” His hand left your cunt, going to your waist and gripping you so you could move. You stopped your movements and obligated, carefully going over his lap and standing on top of him. He rubbed his cock up and down your cunt, gently smearing the tip on your little nub as you tried your best to holding yourself up, grabbing his shoulder and moaning his name out.

“Gonna fuck you nice baby, so nice. Just like you’ve been waiting for.”

With that he gently pushed his cock into your hole, the stretch slightly burning you as you slowly and steadily sunk into his lap. You both squeezed your eyes shut as you enjoyed the slow place of his cock entering your pussy.

You looked at him, your mouth gaping open, as you run your hands trough his beautiful hair.

“Shh, take it, yea baby. Yeah. I know. Begging for it so long and now taking it so good.”

His praise was echoing in your head, not leaving as you sat down his lap, his dick now fully buried in you. The stretch was too good, you truly felt full of him.

He didn’t leave you time before bucking his hips in need, little breaths leaving his lips. He suddenly latched himself on your neck, gently nipping at the skin, careful enough so he wouldn’t leave any marks for your parents to see and while doing that he massaged your tits trough the fabric of your dress.

You whined out, slowly getting used to his stretch and him slowly figuring out a good pace to steadily fuck into you. His cock going in and out as his big rough hands were deliciously tight on your hips, they were going to leave marks for sure.

You ran your hand trough his hair once more but this time tugging it gently away from your neck, revealing his pleasure blissed face, cheeks flushed red, the sweat making his hair and beard wet as he gave you these pretty ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“Take what you need baby, there you go.” He whispered as you took the lead. Your hips now going with a rhythm, fucking yourself on his cock, hips bucking and tits bouncing up and down as the car filled with you two’s moans and whines both desperate and pathetically trying to chase the high you guys deserve.

“Poor fucking man. Fuck— haven’t been taken care of for so so long.”

“Yea, baby.” He could only agree, his gaze never leaving you. You could literally see sparks in his eyes, totally mesmerised by you and the way you were handling his cock.

“Gonna take care of you from now on. Not gonna leave without empty balls, joel. Man like you need all the lovin’ they can get. Wanna see your cock bent after a while at how much i’m taking care of you.”

He grunted, almost releasing at that but you stopped with your hips, leaving him high almost at his orgasm. He was breathing out, whimpering and shaking as you took his cheeks into your hands and gently stroked the skin.

“You don’t even know how handsome you are, so fucking sexy.” You murmured, his eyes turning into those sad doe eyes again, clearly unsure and not excepted the way you were thinking about him.

“You understand?” You asked him, pinching his cheeks together as he nodded his head up and down.

“Mhm. Yea—yeah. Understood.” He breathlessly said, his hips starting to buck into you again, seemingly wanting to finally release and get the satisfaction he totally earned.

You leaned back to the steering wheel so you could get access to your clit, gently rubbing the nub he fucked up to you again, finding his pace once more. His gaze never left yours as his cock deliciously touched that one spot over and over again, making you roll your eyes.

“Gonna take care of you too hun. Feed you my cock whenever you want, fillin’ you up so it makes up for the times i’ve left you hanging.”

You whined at that, nodding your head up and down, whispering a little ‘please’ out.

“So pretty, look at that. Just enjoying her sweet fucking, rubbing her little clit and taking care of her man.”

Now he was the one who suddenly got a mouth on him. You thought maybe he wasn’t that talkative but apparently you were wrong. You felt his cock switch in your cunt, knowing he was close and you were too.

“In me—please. In me.” You whimpered out, your legs shaking and his thrusting growing sloppier and sloppier, he harshly tugged you into him making you yelp. He held your hips tighter then before, his groans and moans getting louder and louder.

“C’mon baby, c’mon. Cum. Show me how good this pussy takes care of her man.” He said into your ear and that was it. Your legs completely shook, as a sharp cry left your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut as the waves of the release washed upon you, making you feel almost dizzy at how good it felt.

He thrusted as much as he could one and two more times, making you ride out your orgasm as he stilled and released into you. His face burying in your neck, chest going up and down and silent groans and whimpers leaving his mouth. You let yourself get filled, enjoying the fullness and coming down from your climax as you gently stroked his hair, slowly moving your hips at the rate at which his cock was shooting his cum and after it getting soft in you, you stopped gently kissing his cheeks and neck, while softly praising him.

“Mhm, we are so fucked baby. Look at how messy we are, how are we going to go back to your parents?”

You giggled at that, shrugging your shoulders at him, enjoying the quiet after the storm and finally having his presence near you, just like you wanted.

You finally fucked him.

I actually don’t really like reading sub!male but I don’t know what got into me in this fic, I think it fits very well. Feedback is very much appreciated and AAA thank you so much for 300 followers🥹😭

—> My Masterlist!!

🫶🏻🫶🏻 @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs

[pepshee]

First Place

when you make a bet with your best friend—loser is forced to do what the winner wants—but his demands for you aren't exactly what you expected, but you're fully willing to comply.

Pairing - heeseung x fem!reader

Genre - friends with benefits, friends to ???, smut

Word count - 2k

Warnings - p in v, creampie, cliche, degrading (he calls reader a slut), fingering, mentions of other enha members, Mario kart mention, stripping, lmk if I missed anything!

A/N - I was gonna lowkey abandon writing but here I am.. back again... again, sorry if it's bad, and thank you to the anon in my inbox who gave me writing advice! i dont feel like using capitalization in this one so im not gonna... anyways.. enjoy! also yes im aware its kinda cliche

MDNI 18+

heeseung was always your best friend; he was always there when you needed him and vice versa. meeting him in high school was the best twist of fate ever. those four years would've ended up miserable had it been someone else.

there was a decent amount of girls after him, but that was never a bother. in fact, he was always your wingman, helping you find ways to ask out your crush without looking like a complete ditz. he had a couple of girlfriends throughout high school, but they never really lasted.

he was able to tell when you were upset and was somehow always able to pinpoint the reason. you'd never thought of him in a romantic light, although he was extremely attractive. it was like a forbidden fruit, something you were too scared to explore.

after graduation, applying to the same college as one another seemed scary. what if only one of you got in? what if neither of you got in? those worrying questions quickly disappeared when one day you both opened your results and found out you were both accepted.

he made new friends, and so did you, but one thing was that you never forgot each other. you both still regularly hung out and went to your usual coffee shops or shopping malls.

heeseung and his friends are at his dorm, and he had given you permission to come and go in his dorm without asking whenever you wanted whether he was there or not. his roommate, Jake, was hesitant about this at first, but just agreed to avoid drama, however, he grew to not mind it.

you were bored lying in your dorm room, so you got up to go to his dorm. upon walking in, you find him, his roommate, and his friends all huddled together in the living room, some on the couch, some on the floor, and the rest standing around. through a closer look, it wasn't hard to locate a couple of them, including heeseung, who were equipped with gaming controllers; they were playing video games.

one of his friends who wasn't playing hears the door opening and looks at you. you don't know his friends well, except for his roommate, but you did know their names.

the friend who saw you, jay, smirks upon noticing your presence. you didn't know the reason, but you just left it alone with a shrug of your shoulders. jay tapped heeseung—whose attention was occupied by whatever game it is that they're playing—and he replied without even looking away from the tv screen. "what is it? I'm trying to win, dude," he said. jay leaned into heeseung's ear and whispered something that you were unable to hear.

heeseung paused the game, earning him a few groans from his friends who also held controllers before turning his head to the door where you were standing. he smiled at you, "hey y/n! come here, we're all playing video games!" after walking over to him you both quickly realize there's no room on the couch for you to sit, but that problem didn't last very long. he hits his friend sitting next to him, sunghoon, not very hard but so sunghoon will know what heeseung is trying to get him to do.

sunghoon promptly got up, before you even got time to process him getting up, heeseung grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit down next to him on the couch. it wasn't hard to notice the looks and smirks his friends gave each other once he did this, but you didn't think anything of it.

"why'd you show up to my dorm this time?" he looked at you, the game still paused, but it seemed his friends were more focused on you two rather than the game now. you let out a small laugh at his comment, "i got bored so i came here, but you're already busy i see." he shakes his head, "i'm not busy, we're just playing games, now watch me win," he smirks, he's always been quite cocky but it's part of his charm.

he unpaused it and continued the competitive game with an intense focus. after a bit, the game was over, and well, heeseung didn't win, but that's not important. he throws a playful fit about losing, and after a bit, he turns to you. "hey, lets play the hardest map on mario kart and whoever loses gets to boss the loser around, but it's just us two," he grins at his own idea, hoping you accept.

he almost cheers when he sees you nod, and signals one of his friends to hand you a controller. he selects the map, and as the game starts, he's completely in the zone; he really wants to win, to have power over you.

after crossing the finish line for the final time, heeseung had won, which makes you let out a groan of disapproval. his friends all laugh as heeseung lightly pushes and teases you. "I knew you were a loser!" he teases, making you hit him on the shoulder. "knock it off, i hate you, you have more experience!" you argue back, and he just laughs.

"okay so now I get to tell you what to do," he smirks. you roll your eyes, but he suddenly shooes his friends out of his dorm while they shoot him knowing looks, and mocking kissing gestures. it's like they know something you don't, which makes you nervous. why would they leave that easily?

after they had left, heeseung shifts around in his seat and turns back to you. "so.. now I need to think about what I'm gonna make you do.. maybe me and jakes dishes? the laundry?" he says, basically talking to himself. he just sits there thinking for a moment, occasionally throwing out random ideas until his face changes, finally landing on one. "y/n, we've been friends for a long time, yeah?" you nod, waiting for him to continue. "you know.. you're really pretty, and I think I've made my decision..." your heart flutters for a second at the tone he used; he never really talked to you like this before. he's told you you're pretty, but the way he said it this time was different.

"strip for me," his tone completely serious, lacking any bit of sarcasm or signs that he's joking. your eyes go wide, and you look at him, bewildered at what he chose. "seriously? strip? hee—" he stopped you before you could finish, "I'm serious, I've always felt something towards you, this is my opportunity, I choose for you to strip," his tone lowering, you can see the desire and the hunger written in his eyes.

through your utter shock, you take a moment to think, he is attractive.. you've always thought he was. what's the harm in this? why not just do it?

you started by removing your hoodie. once he realized you were down for his demands, he couldn't look away. then you removed your shirt, followed by your pants, now just leaving you in your bra and underwear. heeseung was just sitting back, manspreading, smirking at you. he'd never seen you so exposed like this before. "so pretty, your body is so sexy," he commented, you could see the growing bulge in his grey sweatpants.

suddenly, he stood up, grabbing your wrist dragging you to his bed before promptly pushing you down onto it. he quickly crawled on top of you and smashed his lips onto yours. it was unexpected but not unwelcome as you kissed him back and moved one of your hands to bury your fingers in his hair. as the kiss continued, your grip on his hair got tighter, earning a groan from him, while one of his hands explored your thighs.

his hand made its way to the wet patch on your panties, touching you over the cotton. this caused you to let out a whine at the feeling; you wanted more, wanted him to touch you more. he clearly noticed this, "beg for it," he demanded. he clearly wasn't going to give it to you that easily even though it was his idea. "please heeseung, touch my pussy, please.." your pleas made his cock twitch in his boxers, he finally took your panties completely off, sliding them down your legs.

he ran his fingers slowly and teasingly through your already wet and slick folds. "all this for me? didn't think you loved the idea of fucking your best friend so much, you're just a slut aren't you?" his degrading words just fueled your desire for his cock even more even though it probably shouldn't.

he slowly inserted one finger into your cunt, the feeling causing a small moan to release itself from your mouth. he then added a second one and started out slowly moving his fingers in and out of your hole, but then he sped up and even curled the slightly making them hit your g-spot at just the right angle. you moaned at the pleasure that took over you as he continued to scissor his fingers inside of you. his thumb started to rub your clit further stimulating your pussy.

"heeseung im s' close—" he removed his fingers without warning, making you whine at the newfound emptiness. before you could even question, he removed his sweatpants and his shirt. you could feel the drool forming at the sight of his chest and physique, but then your eyes landed on something even more exciting, the stain on his boxers due to his leaking cock.

he removed his boxers next, his large cock springing out, the sight of it made your eyes widen. how would he even fit? "it'll fit baby, don't worry, I'll make it fit," he said almost as if he had read your mind. he ran the tip of his cock through your slick folds and gave himself a couple strokes before finally lining himself up with your entrance. "i'm gonna fuck this pussy so good you hear me?"

he was so eager he didn't even go slow this time; he immediately rammed himself into you, enjoying the sight of the slight bulge he created on your stomach. he pulled out almost fully before thrusting back in, he repeated this process, making you a moaning mess. it was hard to tell where one of you started and where the other ended, "seungie- p-please.. keep going," you begged him, and he listened. he wasn't going to stop until you both came. you could feel his tip grazing your cervix, his cock stretching your pussy so good. you'd had sex before, but you could already tell heeseung is the best you'll ever get.

"come on baby, i know you're close, you like this don't you? like being my little slut," he was right, you did like it, you were close, he knew how to read you like an open book. "gonna cum—" is all you could manage to get out as the pleasure took over you making it almost impossible to form coherent sentences. not long after your words you let go, your release painting his cock forming a white ring at his base as he continued his thrusts chasing his own orgasm. "hold on love, i'm almost there, you can take it," he encouraged. his thrusts started to grow sloppy; he was close. finally, he came, his release painting the inside of your gummy walls. you'd never had anyone cum in you, you'd always had them pull out, but heeseung was different. you wanted him to cum in you.

he rolled off of you, now lying beside you as he brushed a sweaty strand of your hair out of your face. he looked at your bra still covering your tits, he leaned in to your ear and whispered "next time, I'm gonna fuck these pretty tits. I was so caught up with your pussy your poor boobs didn't get any love," he said almost sounding genuinely upset and sympathetic for them.

you wanted to ask what you two were now, but a pang of fear hit you; you were scared of his answer, so you decided to stay silent. you wanted to stay awake, but exhaustion was catching up. no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you couldn't. you finally closed your eyes and fell asleep, heseung followed soon after.

i hope you all liked it!! i'm not too confident about this one but yk.. anyways, this is only like the 4th evber fic ive ever written..... im aware its kinda fast paced, i did rush it oops....

[bumpkinspice0]

Office Hours

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A few months into working back at the mansion and Logan still can't keep his hands off you. A/N: This is vaguely tied to my other Logan fic "No One Knows…" but not at all required reading. All you need to really know is reader is a returning X-Man that can control Earth/ rocks and is codenamed Dozer (Short for Bulldozer) Warnings: S M U T, medium plot??? but mostly just porn, established relationship, under desk blowjobs, office sex, light dom/ sub, a single spank possessive Logan (Someone needs to put me down)

AO3 if you prefer to read there

Logan Masterlist

_______

The morning light pours in through the windows of your bedroom. Logan holds you close against him in bed while you, less than enthusiastically, try to squirm out of his grasp.

A few months back into your old life at X-mansion and you can confidently say it was the best decision you’d ever made in a long, long time. All the kids returned to a brand new environmental science teacher and a newly reconstructed mansion that somehow looked almost exactly the same— give or take a few changes to the gardens.

You’d missed this, you missed being part of the X team, whether it was as an X-Man or just a teacher. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were making a real tangible difference in people's lives. 

Yes, you desperately wanted to return to your roots and start over— but he was also a nice perk to all the chaos. 

Your relationship with Logan was just as new as your employment in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He reeled you in like a fish on a hook. Whatever the two of you had, it was nice. You think it had been a long time since he had something like this too. Someone to care for. Someone to please. 

Neither of you could keep your hands off each other. 

It was too early for ‘I love you’s’ or to declare something like moving in together, but he already spent most nights in your room as it was. If he didn’t spend the night he’d find you in the early morning just to hear you moan his name. That boy was determined never to let you sleep— not that you’re really complaining.

You’d never had a lover like Logan. Someone so… starved. He craved your touch, rambled on about your scent, and held you on the edge for what felt like hours. It was all new and some parts of it, admittedly, a little weird, but fuck was it exciting. 

You’d started a new life for yourself, more or less. Started over, more accurately. And he was there to soften all the blows. You hope you did the same for him. 

You can’t believe you thought he ever had ulterior motives about you when you came back. Once you found out you both had more similar pasts than you’d realized, you were sure the only thing he'd want was information from you. How glad you were to be wrong. 

Victims of the same cruelty but you were both different. You still had your memories. Your identity. He didn't. 

You vowed to help find out who he was, and that seemed to mean more to him than anything— but it was a slow process. Old information and long abandoned facilities. Still, you had each other through all of this and that helped the pain, just a little. Facing your demons together. 

Right now, however, Logan was your only tangible demon. He still had you trapped in bed and late for class. 

“Just a quickie,” he purrs, nibbling at your ear.  

“I have a class to teach in 20 minutes. You should have gotten here earlier,” You muster up any strength you have against him, “And it’s never quick with you.”

“Or you just don’t want it to be quick,” His mouth finds your bare shoulder, already marked with week's worth of love bites from him. You can’t deny the trill of excitement it sends through you.

This fucking man. 

You want to. Lord in heaven, you really, really want to. Sometimes this being a responsible mentor thing got in the way.

“Logan…” You push lightly against his chest. It’s not much of a protest, really. None of your weak-willed squirming was.

“Okay… okay,” His grip around your waist finally loosens and you reluctantly get out of bed. He gives your ass a playful spank as you do. 

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You scold him with a smile as you dig through your dresser for anything that was clean. 

“Got a good reason to be,” He grins, resting his arms behind his head and stretching out over the bed. You can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks. Logan never missed an opportunity to compliment you. 

You, a little reluctantly, pull on a pair of jeans and one of his white shirts. Slowly but surely all your laundry was getting intermingled to the point of no return. That and you know he always liked when you wore something of his. You don’t think any of your own tee-shirts were clean anyway.

Yeah, it’s probably time to do laundry. 

You top it off with a loose black cardigan to seem somewhat teacherly. You gather your folders with today’s syllabus. You had three classes today. Logan usually had two— if you could you really call PE and survival basics a class. The kids usually just roped him and Kurt into playing flag football with them. It was adorable in its own Logany way.

“I’ll see you out there, Professor Logan,” you give him a peck on the forehead before shimming on your shoes. 

“God, don’t ever call me that again.” He chuckles, covering his face with his forearm.

“Would you prefer daddy?”

His hand immediately drops, “Don’t tempt me, darlin’.”

You’re at the door now, giving yourself one last moment to admire the perfect man sprawled out in your bed.

“Don’t sleep in too late,” you open the door. 

“See you out there, toots.”

______

There are only a few more warm days left in fall and you refuse to let them go to waste. You always liked holding classes outside anyway. This was Environmental Science after all. As an earthmover, it always felt natural. Feeling the actual ground under your feet made everything easier to teach in a way. 

You’re teaching the different types of erosion this week. The class is gathered on the grass on the edge of the pond as you hover different rocks around them. Examples of river-smoothed stones, bed clay, and a few from the Grand Canyon you’d brought in from your personal collection. 

You’d never thought of yourself as the best teacher but the kids seemed to at least enjoy the theatricality. You knew dirt. You knew the earth, and that seemed to be enough.

You hear the PE class run out onto the other side of the lawn, Logan dutifully following behind them. You don’t even need to look to feel his eyes on you. You're not sure if you're irritated by the distraction or think it’s a little cute he wants to be near you.

Well, if he’s going to distract you and your class, you might as well distract him. The kids had started a game of frisbee golf, something his full attention didn’t need to be on anyway.  Logan always joked he was just a glorified babysitter. You take off your cardigan when you feel a small gust of wind. His head immediately snaps your direction when you do. 

He’d told you before he liked the mix of your scents. The more animalistic part of him liked it anyway. He always seemed ashamed of it, despite your insistence you didn’t care. You could never truly understand, sure, but that didn’t change your feelings for him. Besides, you didn’t mind feeding the animal every once in a while. 

You’d reached the end of your class period and quickly dismissed your students, reminding them of the homework as they scurried back into the mansion. You remain outside, cleaning up the small mess your lesson had made. 

You still feel Logan’s eyes on you. You can’t help the excitement his gaze stirs in you. Logan did something to you no other man had ever done— he made you feel desirable in ways you’d never experienced. 

It was an incredible turn-on, to say the least.

You feel your panties slowly start to wetten. You see a shift in his posture in the distance. You smile, bending over to pick up the loose papers you’d left on a nearby bench. You pause there far longer than you needed to— just a small tease but you know it’s something that’ll drive you crazy. He always said he liked you in these jeans the most.

You feel his eyes burning into your back the entire walk to the mansion. You can’t help but smile.

______

You're leaning against the front of your desk, looking over tomorrow's lesson, when you hear his signature booming steps hurrying down the hallway. It’d been an hour since your last class ended. He enters the office, closing the door behind him immediately. 

“Professor Logan,” You greet him teasingly, leaning back against the desk. 

He says nothing as he stalks towards you with heavy steps, crashing his mouth into yours. You pull him in as he inserts his body between your legs. His mouth is hungry against yours— desperate even. His lips trail down to your jaw.

“You think you’re cute, huh? Prancing around in my clothes, showing off your ass, gettin’—”

“I’m very cute,” you giggle as he nips at you.

He growls, pulling you up to lead you back to the desk chair. He liked it when you sat on his lap. It was both of your lunch breaks. You’d always spend them together, though usually not in your shared office.

Charles required everyone to have office hours, even Logan. He fought it every step of the way until he finally relented to just sharing yours. He was almost never here. He didn’t have a reason to be— well unless you were there. His desk sits across from yours just as bare as the day it was put in. Yours, on the other hand, was quickly cluttering as the school year went on.

“Still worked up from this morning,” Logan admits as he nips at your lip, “Need you, sweet thing.”

Absolutely insatiable.

“Poor boy,” You tease, your hands slowly trailing down to his obnoxious belt buckle. “I’ll take care of you.”

You always liked to tease him more than you’d care to admit. He’d get so worked up over the smallest things. You were always happy to indulge him… every fucking time. 

You sink down to your knees, pulling his jeans with you. His cock bulges out against his boxers, already hard and waiting. You palm at him, giving him a rough squeeze through the fabric. He hums in approval. God, he always felt so good.

There’s almost a sigh of relief when you pull him free. You give him a few rough strokes before your tongue follows, trailing up from his base and swirling around his tip, pre cum already leaking free. His rough hands grip your hair as you lavish his cock with your tongue. 

You pause at the tip, placing a single feather light kiss before taking him completely into your mouth. He chokes out a strangled moan, doing his best to stay quiet. Luckily, the walls of the mansion were thick. 

The grip in your hair tightens as you find a rhythm. 

“T-that's it,” his voice is shaky, dripping with pleasure, “Just like that. Good girl.”

He always praised you. Whether giving or receiving, he always made sure you felt seen. 

A part of this excited you so much. It was scandalous, having him splayed out like this at your work desk, doing your best to suppress the moans that brew in your throat from the thrill of it all. You loved making him fall apart. This was just as much for him as it was for you. You were both having fun. Both acting like giddy, horny, little teenagers. 

His grip in your hair shifts, and you feel him tense under you. He can’t be close already? Before you have time to ask what’s going on you’re being shoved underneath your own desk. You want to scream what the absolute fuck?! before you hear the office door being clicked open.

“Logan?” It's Scott’s voice. 

“What?” Logan bites out, leaning over the front of the desk to conceale you completely. Thank god Charles always insisted on these massive solid oak desks.

“I’m just— You’re sitting at Dozer’s desk,” Scott stammers out. 

“Had something I needed,” he quickly lied. 

You’re cramped into a wooden box basically, one of the walls being made out of thick muscled legs with a heavy cock still hanging between them. You were playing a game with Logan, might as well make it more interesting. 

“Have you seen her?” Scott asks, “I needed—”

“No.” Logan only grits out, “She’s probably down in the—”

He cuts himself off the moment your hand grasps his cock again. You can’t help but smile when you run your tongue back up the velvet length. He can’t move his arms because that would expose you. He can’t move his legs because there’s not enough room with you between them. He’s stuck here while you torture him in the sweetest way possible. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps when you take him back into your mouth. 

“She’s where Logan?” Scott, blissfully unaware, prompts him.

“I don’t— I don’t fucking know,” You swear you can almost feel him shaking with the effort to keep his voice steady, “Why don’t you go fucking look for her then, huh?”

There isn’t as much room to move your head as you’d like, so you let your tongue and hands do most of the work. 

“Well, can I just get on her computer?” You hear Scott take a step closer. Oh no, “I just need a—”

“Piss off, Summers!” He practically growls it out. “You need her then go fucking find her.”

You hear Scott scoff as he takes a step back. To be fair, this was completely in character for the two of them. It was doubtful Scott suspected anything. You reach up and give Logan’s balls a gentle fondle while you worship his tip with your tongue as silently as you can.

Finally, you hear Scott retreat to the hallway. 

“I don’t know why she’s with you, Logan. I really don’t.” He spits before slamming the door behind him. 

Logan doesn’t waste a second once the door is closed again, pushing the chair back and grabbing your face roughly. His cock falls from your mouth with a wanton gasp. You must look like a mess but can’t bring yourself to care.

He just holds you there for a moment, your mouth just inches away from his cock. His eyes have glossed over with lust. He loved this, you know he fucking loved this because you did too. 

“You’re trouble,” he says, pulling you both to standing, “You’re so much fucking trouble.”

He turns you around and bends you over the desk immediately, a few pencil cups shaking with the force. He yanks down your jeans a little rougher than you’d like but you still kick them off the rest of the way. Your underwear still remained in place. He kicks your legs wider and trails a hand up your back, pressing his palm down between your shoulders. His other hand drips between your legs, a finger rubbing over your clothed pussy.

“Fucking soaked through already?” he purrs. “You get wet sucking my cock, baby?”

“Yes.” It practically comes out as a plea. Well, it’s only fair he’s toying with you now. Your legs are almost shaking in anticipation. 

You squirm as he starts to rub the damp fabric directly over your clit. His hand on your back presses you down harder, pinning you in place. He’s doing what you did to him— in his own way. Trapped at his mercy. 

He pushes your underwear to the side, two fingers running through your slick folds a few times before delving in. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, barely successful in silencing yourself. He curls his fingers, back and forth as he works his hand up and down. Anyone could walk in that door at any moment. Logan would stop if he heard anyone coming again—right?

“You know what you do to me?” His voice is ragged, almost pained, “Fuck, do you have any idea?”

His pace is speeding up and your restraint is slipping, but there’s nothing you can do to get out of this. And, fuck you don’t want him to stop either. You’re completely his right now. 

You finally let out a wail when rips his hand out of your cunt and slaps it across your ass. His touch stays there, gripping the stinging skin, sharp pain quickly melting to the pleasure that was racking your whole body. He takes his other hand off your back. You don’t move, your stomach stirring in anticipation.

It feels better than it should when his hard, massive cock runs over your soaked pussy. He’d dialed up all of your nerves to eleven. You involuntarily ach back into him like a fucking bitch in heat.

“Oh Christ, why are you with me…” he lines himself up, “That’s what Summers said, right? He doesn’t know why you’re with me?”

“Logan—” You attempt to speak up before the air in your lungs vanishes when he thrusts inside of you in one jarring motion. He stays there a good moment, grinding his hips into your ass, gathering himself. God, he was so fucking deep. He draws out and slams back in again. You hear the desk creaking in protest this time, several items falling off. 

He leans over you, hot tongue trailing up your spine before nuzzling his face in next to your ear. 

“I know why,” He starts to roll his hips against yours. His imposing body and magic dick were taking over every sense you had. God, you wish you could scream. “It’s because you know no one else can fuck you like I can. Can take care of you like I can.”

He nips at your ear as he finds a pace, tiny low grunts escaping in rhythm with his hips. This was just as much about dominating you as it was about being as close to you as humanly possible. Mixing your scents and desires together until the line is blurred between the two. Yes, Logan fucked you unlike anyone else had, and your certain better than anyone else ever could, but he also loved you harder than you ever knew possible. 

Loyal to a fault. It’s instincts, he always said. You always hated when he compared himself to an animal, but in a lot of ways it's just part of who he was. He seemed past trying to deny it and embrace it in his own way. Let the beast free, so to speak. 

“Tell me,” He growls into your ear, “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”

You struggled to form the single-word answer, but it eventually came out, whined and shaky. 

“Y-y-you,” you swear you’re drooling, “O-only you, b-baby. O-only—” You trail off, likely losing all brain function to the intoxicating filth of it all. 

“That’s right. T-that’s right,” he chants a few times like he’s fucking praising himself for it, “Only me. You’re all mine. I’m all yours.”

You’re not sure if it’s a gasp of surprise or pain that escapes you when he lifts you both. He holds you against him, still fucking you while you’re both standing. You’re forced to stand on your tiptoes, your hands grasping onto the forearm around your chest for any sense of balance. You weighed nothing to him. He’s still fucking you senseless. He’s holding you both up and still fucking you senseless.

You swear you go blind when his other hand snakes down to your clit. 

“Shoulda stayed in bed this morning,” His stubble rubs against your cheek, “Wouldn’t have to fuck you like this if we— shit— if we had time this morning.”

“L–Logan, I–I—” You start to warn him but can’t manage to get it all out. Nevertheless, you’re sure he knows. He always knows when you’re close. You feel it, the mounting pressure at your core. Sweet, precious relief. 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

It hits you like a train, hard and almost completely by surprise. The hand around your chest immediately comes up to clamp around your mouth. You scream against his palm while he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, practically using you like a goddamn sex toy at this point. 

He mutters out a string of curses while he attempts to maintain his equilibrium— and eventually fails. He collapses back into the chair behind him, dragging you with him. He almost slips out. Almost. He holds you close against his chest, hips completely still against your ass as he pulses rope after rope into you.

“Good girl, good girl,” you hear him muttering into your neck like a prayer. 

Your haggard moans into his hand eventually fade into one long heavy sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax against him. You feel his body unwind as well, his previously firm hand over your mouth coming to stroke your cheek. His lips lull around your neck, placing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss wherever he could reach. He was always so gentle after sex. Those hands that were so rough just a moment ago gently glide over your skin. You always find comfort in their heft. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you finally ask, leaning your head back against his. 

“Fuck ‘em if they did,” he nuzzles himself right under your jaw. Close— he always had to be so close. 

“Charles is gonna fire us if he ever finds out,” you bring your hands up to your face, rubbing into your eyes just a little too hard.

“You can’t fire an X-Man.”

“Teachers, Logan, we’re teachers.” Ah good, the mortification was settling in just in time to ruin the moment. Fabulous. 

“Stop it,” you swear you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“He’s gonna read our minds and see what absolute animals we are and he’s gonna fire us.” The irony that you're saying this out loud while Logan is still fully inside you in your shared office is not lost on you. You feel his chest bouncing against your back, chuckling lightly at your dismay of your surely oncoming termination. You can’t help but laugh along with him, just a little. 

You eventually untangle your bodies and fish your pants off the floor. Maybe you had time for a shower before your next class. Christ, you need one. Logan wasn’t the only mutant with advanced senses in the school and the last thing you need is teenagers starting a rumor mill about two teachers fucking in their office. Still, when you look back at Logan you know you’d do it all over again regardless.

Whatever this was with him, whatever you’d started, you know you can’t stop it. The thought should terrify you, but for once you’re not afraid.

You reach out and grab his hand, “Wanna grab lunch?”

“Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”

[darkbluekies]

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer. 

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him. 

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again. 

But he did. Somehow, he did. 

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one. 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you. 

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other. 

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase. 

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights. 

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back. 

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says. 

Me neither, you think. 

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe. 

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered. 

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine. 

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke. 

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes. 

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank. 

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”. 

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint. 

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry. 

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away. 

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” 

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping. 

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly. 

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter. 

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling. 

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away. 

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him. 

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead. 

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold. 

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty. 

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.” 

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused? 

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in. 

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks. 

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish. 

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him. 

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you. 

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you. 

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder. 

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning. 

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m not hungry”, you say. 

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing. 

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears. 

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks. 

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers. 

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled. 

His words send icy shivers down your back. 

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky. 

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls. 

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure. 

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside. 

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court. 

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole. 

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body. 

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole. 

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command. 

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries. 

[perfectyeager]

|| WHO..?; Eren Yeager

|| SYNOPSIS..?; Plug!Eren fucks his innocent girlfriend.

|| WARNINGS..?; 18+ MDNI. Smut.

EREN YEAGER was a well-known dealer in the area. a tall, mysterious, often hot-headed drug dealer — someone you definitely wouldn’t wanna mess with unless you planned on getting shot.

so, when you, a perfect little pink princess angel was seen with eren’s tattooed arm around your shoulders and your bag in his hand — everyone was shocked to say the least.

you were pretty, quiet, intelligent, came from a good family background, never missed a day of college or any homework, never smoked or did drugs, and the only alcohol you’d ever had was a sip of your mother’s gin & tonic and you hated it.

you were the complete opposite to eren.

you were innocent.

but somehow you were drawn to him.

you had met at a party your friend mikasa dragged you too — someone he’d known from childhood and you bonded over your mutual friend. eren knew he liked you from the moment he set eyes on your uncomfortable frame amongst your drunk and high friends at the party. you got on very well much to eren’s surprise and he vowed from that moment on to protect you no matter what.

so, you hung out more & more and you grew to love each other. eren asked you to be his girlfriend at a fancy dinner — a pretty bracelet in a velvet box being accompanied by the sweet words, bringing tears to your eyes as you couldn’t help but kiss his face as you cried against him, whispering ‘yes’ a thousand times as you covered him in your lipstick.

you cherished eren and treated him with the utmost kindness and respect a man deserved. you always put him first and devoted your life to making sure he was happy. and eren protected you with his life — literally. he would take a bullet to the brain for you, not caring that he’d never wake up again, if only you were happy and safe. you were the only woman he’d ever truly loved, and therefore he never wanted anything bad to ever happen to you. n he spoilt you like a princess, his drug money making sure your nails were never bare, as long as he could pick the design here and there, and your hair looked freshly done and perfect and any outfit or meal you wanted was paid for by him.

eren never pushed you into anything, he knew where you stood with his life and what he did, but he knew you’d never stop him from making his money the way he did. he knew you hated that he sold & did drugs but he reassured you with his life that he would never ever put you in danger or make you unhappy. he’d give it up if you were genuinely upset about it — but he knew you weren’t that petty to make him change his life that much just for you.

he also never pushed you to like his friends — who had the same values as him. so, when you met them all for the first time, you could tell you were definitely the elephant in the room, as a little princess like you stood out amongst all the drugs user thugs themselves.

“ guys, this my girl i’ve been tellin’ you ‘bout.” eren introduced, a sweet smirk on his face, as he smiled down at you, arm around your waist as you stood before a few of his friends.

smoke filled the air as they all smoked their individual joints, all in similar dress to eren and all tatted up — you, in a short, pretty pink dress, frilly socks and comfy trainers and your hair in a high ponytail held together by a pink scrunchie.

“ hi, nice to meet you.” you smiled sweetly, waving your manicured hand, eren smiling as he caught a glimpse of the initial ‘E’ on your ring finger.

one day he’d convince you to get it tatted — not yet though.

connie was the first to speak, standing up, brushing the ash off his jeans to force his hand into yours in a handshake, “nice to meet ya, pretty, ‘m connie. we’ve heard a lotta ‘bout you.”

“watch it” eren warned, shooting connie a glare at the compliment he weaved into his words.

connie only chuckled, retreating back to his seat as you giggled quietly at eren’s possessiveness.

next to greet you was a tall, mullet-headed man named jean who only offered a nod and a quiet hello — someone you knew eren had had issues with in the past and knew not to overstep the line when it came to his girl. after jean came reiner, a muscular blonde who was the sweetest of the bunch.

“nice to meet you — i hear you’re making our eren very happy.” he smiled, blowing smoke from between his pink lips.

“i hope so.” you mumbled nervously, “i love him a lot.”

eren could’ve fallen to his knees and cried at the way you looked up at him with such pure adoration and devotion in your eyes after saying the sweetest words any girl had ever said about him.

“y’know you do, baby.” eren spoke, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“you’re not his usual type so i am surprised.”

“shut ya fucking mouth, kirstein.” you nearly flinched at the pure hatred in eren’s voice as his head snapped towards jean who only smirked evilly.

“what? a man’s not allowed to speak the truth anymore, or ‘sum?” jean laughed, “no offence, sweetheart, but yeager usually goes for more..experienced bitches, y’know?”

connie kissed his teeth loudly as reiner sighed, knowing exactly what was coming. a frown appeared on your face as jean’s words hit your ears, feeling suddenly uncomfortable at jean’s insinuation.

“so, just don’t get too comfortable, darlin’, cuz he’s likely to leave ya for some other bitch that actually knows how ta act her age.”

“i’d shut up, kirstein.” connie warned, a knowing smile on his face as if he was enjoying this.

you could feel eren was tense from how his hand gripped your waist and how you could hear him grinding his teeth together in anger.

you hated seeing eren like that. you just wanted him to be happy.

“well i’m sorry, jean, b-but eren loves me and me only just as i am and that’s not going to change so you’ll just h-have to get used to it.”

your heart hammered in your chest as adrenaline flowed through your veins — swallowing thickly as the words left your dry throat. your hand flew to eren’s against your waist as you gripped his fingers, reminding him that you were there with him.

jean’s face dropped as he expected eren to give him a piece of his mind — he wasn’t expecting your shaky voice to greet his ears.

eren, though, could’ve cum on the spot. you, defending him against horse-face…? jeeeesus that was fucking good to hear.

“daaaaaamn, kirstein, get told you asshole.” connie laughed, slapping his knee as reiner smiled against the joint between his lips.

jean kissed his teeth, “man fuck you.”

“nah fuck you, bro” connie fought back, “bein’ nasty to eren’s girl for no damn reason, fuckin’ cunt.”

“oh shut ya fuckin’ mouth, springer — “

“go wait in the car for me, sweetheart.” eren whispered down at you, his voice taking over your brain from the boys argument, his large hand cupping your cheek lovingly as he slid his car keys into your petite hand.

you nodded and did as he asked, blocking out the argument as you retreated out the room, offering reiner a polite, yet awkward smile. you knew trouble was underway as eren’s name being called in desperation muffled through the walls of connie’s apartment as you hurried down the stairs.

eren often got like that if you were disrespected by anyone. didn’t matter if he was in the room, if he knew them or not, if the person who said it was online or if they were 1000 miles away — eren had to fuck them up until they were on the brink of death for upsetting his perfect girl.

you had waited in his obnoxiously big mercedes for what felt like half an hour as you anxiously picked at your nails, your eyes glancing down at his initial — worry filling your tummy. but, alas, your boyfriend emerged from the apartment complex in a state you weren’t surprised at.

sweaty, flushed cheeks, strands of hair flying from his bun, bruised and bloody knuckles and chest heaving angrily.

“‘rennie.” you whispered as he flung himself into the car, slamming the door. your sweet, loving hands coming to touch his cheek.

if it were anyone else, eren would’ve flipped his lid at anyone touching him. but you? no. he craved your touch right now. more than anything. i mean he was practically melting at the touch of your small palm on his face.

he turned his head to press a long, loving kiss to the palm of your hand, eyes closed as if to savour the feeling of your skin on his lips.

“‘m sorry for keepin’ you, baby.” eren whispered, quickly turning on the ignition and pulling out of the parking space, “let’s go home, yeah?”

you merely nodded, offering him a reassuring smile as he drove away, slightly more erratic than normal due to his heightened mood — but he knew not to take it too far as you were in the car with him. as you know, he’d never ever put you in danger.

eren remained in a mood for the rest of the day. never showing it fully to you as to not upset you, but you could tell he was still bothered by what jean had said.

“eren?”

“wassup, beautiful” eren’s monotone voice filled your ears as you watched him from across the dinner table in his dining room. he even looked perfect eating the chinese takeout he’d bought you both.

“what happened earlier?”

eren tensed up again. the memories of the afternoon crept up his brain, “why, baby?”

“please, honey.” you pouted, instantly breaking down his guard at your perfect face, “i wanna know.”

eren sighed, reaching over to tug at your jutted out bottom lip, “can’t ever say no to you, mama, jesus.”

you smiled slightly against his finger, watching as he let his fork drop into the cardboard box full of noodles, running a hand through his hair.

“well i beat the shit outta him. broke his nose or ‘sum i think, i really don’t care.”

“eren!”

eren kissed his teeth, leaning back in his chair, “what? he fuckin’ deserved it.”

“eren yeager.” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, frowning, not knowing eren secretly enjoyed the way you got so protective of him.

“shiiit, full name n’ all, now ‘m in trouble, ma, huh?” he smirked, his golden grills flashing at you.

“yes, ‘ren, he’s your friend.” you whined, feeling to blame for your boyfriends antics.

“nah he’s not.” eren scowled, returning to his food nonchalantly despite the topic of conversation, “especially not if he talks ‘bout you like that.”

you sighed, pushing at your food with your fork, pouting slightly, still feeling guilty.

“baby, ‘m sorry i’m not like the other girls you’ve dated.”

uh oh! shouldn’t have said that!

eren threw his fork to the table, startling you slightly as he slid his chair quickly towards you — forcing you into a feverish kiss, taking you by surprise. eren’s large hands grasped desperately at your face, his lips moulding against yours as he kissed you with the most passion and love you’d ever experienced.

“—‘nngh’ — ‘rennie!—giggle—stop!—hah!” your words struggled to come out as eren kissed from your lips to your nose to your cheeks, eyes forehead and chin.

“don’t you ever say that again, ma, i mean it.” eren warned, suddenly serious as he finally pulled away looking you dead in the eyes, “you. are perfect. and nothin’ like those bitches thank fucking jesus lord. they ruined me, made me half the fuckin’ man i am. you changed me you fixed me you are the one for me because you are you, baby, y’get me?”

you couldn’t help but smile against his hands, your cheeks squishing slightly against him as you couldn’t contain your grin, “‘rennie, you mean that?”

“more than anything in th’fuckin’ world.”

and he sure as hell proved that!

“..nnngh—ugnnnh! fuuuck, ‘rennie!”

eren laughed loudly, pulling back from between your thighs at the sound of his name being called, slick covering his lips and chin, as you sat up on your elbows, arms shaking.

currently, he had you on your back on his bed, completely butt ass naked like the day you were born, and his tongue working wonders on your clit. you’d already cum twice and he was trying to force a third out of you.

“‘wassup, baby?”

“— ‘ren, hah — no-no more — nnhuuugh.” your whines of pleasure and fatigue only stirring him on as he jutted against the bed frame in his boxers, now feeling awfully tight against his throbbing cock.

“please, mama, one more for ‘rennie, please? y’were such a good girl for me today baby. standing up to that fuckin’ prick — makin’ ‘rennie s’proud of you. gotta reward m’ baby, yeah?”

you whined once more, his words hitting you straight in the core as you fell back onto your back, chest heaving.

eren took that as a yes — his tongue resuming its mission your aching clit, his ring clad hands gripping at your pudgy thighs as you cried out, your legs instinctively clamping around his head at the over stimulation.

eren flicked the tip of his tongue continuously over your clit, pleasuring the swollen nub, occasionally licking long strips or sucking on it, earning louder moans of intense pleasure from your plump lips. eren ate pussy good — that was one of the first things you learnt about him, feeling excited you had him all to yourself but secretly annoyed other girls got to enjoy this before you.

but he was yours now so it didn’t matter.

eren didn’t have to wait long until you were cumming again, legs nearly crushing his skull as you shook against him, tongue lapping at your clit at record speed as you whined his name loudly, bucking your hips up to reach your third orgasm.

“fuck fuck fuck, ‘rennie — cummin’, ‘m cummin’, baby, fuck!”

“yeah, that’s it, princess, give it to me. give it to ‘rennie, fuckin’ cum for me.” eren whispered, his fingers rubbing swift circles on your nub as your third orgasm ripped through you.

eren grew harder and harder in his uncomfortably tight boxers as you creamed all over his tongue, whining and panting as the overstimulation grew. as you came down from your high, you kicked eren away from your pulsating sex as he lapped up the cum that dribbled out of you, fatigue washing over you.

but eren wasn’t done with you just yet.

kneeling on the bed, eren slotted himself between your open legs as he pulled his achingly hard cock free from his briefs, both of you watching as it bobbed between your thighs lewdly. eren wasn’t small at all — a humble 8 inches and girth always made your ability to walk be ripped away from you.

“gonna fuck you so good, mama. ya such a good girl f’me, deserve to take this big dick, hm?”

you could only whine as words failed your sex-drunk mind, clit twitching as eren’s mushroom-shaped tip nudged the abused nub. he gathered your ever-increasing slick over his hot length, heart pounding as he pushed a leg further up to his shoulder.

“ya ready, sweetheart?”

this wasn’t a question, this was a warning. eren did this to make sure you knew his desperate monster of a cock was about to destroy your insides.

“mmm.” you nodded, biting your lip, anticipation eating you alive.

eren bit back a moan as he pushed the tip past your drooling lips into your tight gummy walls — a loud whine leaving your lips, only stirring eren on.

“jeeeesus, fuck, baby.” eren groaned, throwing his head back as he pushed further inside you, the sheer girth of his fat cock stretching you open more n more with each inch.

eren was only getting harder n harder as you panted and whined beneath him, your pretty chest clad in a white lacy bra rising and falling quickly as he filled you up.

eren loved lookin at you while he fucked you. sure he loved seeing your ass clap back onto his dick while he fucked you from behind — but watching your gorgeous face contort into expressions of pleasure while he fucked you dumb made him feral.

eren wasted no time — wanting nothing more than for you to feel good for your amazing act of service to him today. he dragged himself slowly from your wet cunt, hissing at the tightness that was your pussy that engulfed him, only leaving his throbbing tip inside.

“please ‘rennie.”

that was enough for eren. one hand gripped your hip and the other on your levitated thigh as he began an unholy pace. your back arched off the bed as eren’s cock slammed in and out of your sloppy pussy — the sound of your wetness filling the air like a dirty porn video, only stirring eren on as his mouth fell open at the feeling of your clenching hole squeezing him just the way he liked. your legs were tensed as your eyes squeezed shut; pleasure consuming your body as eren fucked you senseless, grunting to himself as he thoroughly enjoyed you.

“such a good girl f’me, aren’t ya, princess?” eren panted, turning to plant hot, open mouthed kisses against your ankle as he fucked you open — chest heaving in arousal as you cried out louder at his praise.

“e-eren!” you cried, eyes shooting open as his fingers landed on your overstimulated clit, rubbing circles on his twitching nub, coaxing another orgasm outta you, shooting up from the bed.

eren’s large hand landed from your waist to your neck — grasping your throat in a chokehold and shoving you back down onto the bed, knocking the wind out of your lungs, “don’t you fuckin’ dare try and stop me.” he warned “you’ve been such a good girl all day baby don’t ruin it now. let rennie make ya cum one more time yeah?”

“rennieeee, can’t. i can’t, b-baby, can’t cum anymore. ‘s-sensitive.” you whined, trying to ignore how good it felt as his cock bullied your g-spot and thumb rubbing dangerously slow circles on your clit.

eren laughed darkly, his pornographic pace never faltering as his blown out, fucked out eyes flicked from your bodies connecting to your lewd face, “you wanna cum with rennie though, right?”

you nodded quickly — loving nothing more than feeling him stuff you full of cum while you orgasmed around him.

“then shut ya bitch mouth n take it.”

with a squeak of agreement, eren’s hand slipped from your throat to your tits — pulling one out manhandling it, earning himself some pretty moans as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

“fuckin’ c’mere, mama.” eren spoke, tossing another leg over his shoulder, practically folding you in half as he pushed you further onto the bed, now leaning over your fucked out body.

“aaaahnnng! fuck, fuck fuck! eren — eren, fuck, eren!”

your whines only granted eren all the confirmation he needed that he was doin you good as he pushed his cock further into you — his tip kissing your cervix.

“jeeeeesus,” eren panted, throwing his head back at the new angle, “fuckin’ takin this dick so good, mama”

“yeah, yeah, yeahhnhhggh!” you were practically brainless by the time eren had even started his new pace, his cock bullying its way into you as your eyes practiced hardcore R.E.M as they rolled back and all over the place.

eren’s hips snapped back and forth against the plush of your ass and gripped your waist — forcing you down onto his cock harder as he fucked you. his bun was falling loose as strands stuck to the sweat on his forehead, bottom lip between his teeth flashin his grills as his eyebrows twitched.

eren pushed his cock deeper as you whined with every thrust, blabbering his name as tears slipped from your eyes at the pure pleasure your eren was bringing you — big bad eren making you feel so good behind closed doors!

eren’s hand resumed its tortuous work against your clit as he grunted against you, flicking your nub back forth.

“doin’ so good, babygirl, fuckin’ can’t wait to nut in this good girl pussy.”

“oouuuugh ‘rennieeeeuuugg!”

“yeah, tell me ‘bout it mama, feels good, yea?” eren teased, slamming his now twitching cock into your slobbering pussy — his dick throbbing in arousal at the way you’d clench around him and then a milky white ring of your cream would form around the base of his cock, “ya like it when rennie talks you through it, hm? dirty girl.”

“yes, ‘rennie! yes, ‘rennie! yes, ‘rennie!”

eren laughed darkly as he watched your eyes nearly turn towards each other as you blabbered loudly, drool now falling from your lips — he just loves fuckin’ you dumb!

“fuck, baby, gunna cum,” eren mumbled, hips twitching slightly as he neared his finish, “where y’want me, sweetheart?”

“inside!”

“oh, fuck.”

eren didn’t need much more to be said before his hips stilled as he spilled his load inside you. the feeling of eren fucking his cum back inside you as his hips twitched forwards as he came, sent you the edge as well, manicured toes curling and a loud cry of pleasure being released as you came around him. eren’s head fell forward against your chest as you clamped down on his sensitive cock — forcing another spurt of cum to shoot inside you along with his fat load.

you both laid in silence for a few more seconds before eren slowly sat up, letting his softening cock slip out of your warm heaven — smirking proudly as a dollop of his cum dripped from your pussy which clenched around nothing.

“did so good f’me, beautiful.” eren whispered, reaching down to rub gentle, apologetic circles to your bruised hips and a sweet, loving kiss to your temple, his heart hammering in his chest from your adorably tired face.

“i love you, ‘rennie.” you mumbled, curling up in his sweaty sheets — which you knew he’d be changing for you in a few minutes as he retreated towards the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth to clean you with.

“i love you more, princess.”

hey sorry i’m back babies !

i had awful writers block but i think ive found my style now YAY

i <3 eren

[rongloa]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 (𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮) — m.grayson oneshot

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. being mark’s best friend has always been difficult, he’s a nerd. but when he suddenly starts disappearing mid-hangout you can’t figure out what you’ve done wrong.

𝐰𝐜. 4.5k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. you’re acting like a doormat again, generous use of angst, big misunderstandings, feelings of abandonment, mark being a dickhead and not realising what he’s been doing is hurting you, swearing, and then they kiss, after arguing though

𝐚/𝐧. i actually had so much fun writing this darling ( @flwrch1d ), thank you sm! it’s not a lot but i tried my hardest for you 💪🏽

Before everything, it was always the three of you.

You, Mark, and William — the trio glued together by years of inside jokes, movie marathons, and a shared cafeteria table that was somehow always sticky. But really, it was you and Mark who were inseparable.

It wasn’t weird, not to either of you. It just was. Movie nights that turned into sleepovers on the couch. Falling asleep with your head on his shoulder while he quietly changed the TV volume. Late-night walks with no destination, sharing earbuds and arguing over which Studio Ghibli movie was objectively superior— you always won those types of arguments.

He wasn’t exactly popular, but Mark had that quiet, harmless kind of presence that didn’t invite trouble. He wasn’t the smartest, a little awkward, one of those nerds no one hated but no one really hung out with either—excluding you and Will.

But you were his person. The first one he texted when something stupid happened in math class. The one who knew what his hoodie smelled like and the kind of cereal he ate when he was stressed. You made space for him in your life without even thinking. And for a while, it felt like he made space for you too.

But then things changed.

Slowly at first. One missed hangout. Then another. Then a week where he barely answered your texts. He started looking tired all the time — eyes rimmed red, shoulders tense like he was bracing for something invisible. You asked if he was okay. He’d smile, say “just tired,” and change the subject to the newest Seance Dog comic.

You started doing more things without him. William did too. The table at lunch got quieter. Your weekends got longer.

And then you met Daniel.

It was dumb — your pen ran out of ink in chem lab, and he offered you his like it was a grand gesture. He had an easy confidence to him, the kind that wasn’t trying too hard. Funny, in a smug but charming way. You told him a joke Mark once made and Daniel actually laughed. And for a second, it felt nice. Like being seen again.

You never meant to start spending so much time with him.

But Daniel texted back. He showed up when he said he would, at that cafe you and Mark used to go to religiously. He didn’t vanish without explanation. And when you smiled at him, he looked at you like he knew exactly what it meant.

The hardest part? Mark didn’t fight it. He didn’t ask where you were going. He didn’t stop you. He just watched— from across the hallway, across the lunchroom—with that Mark Grayson-specific look on his face.

You’d convinced yourself he didn’t care. But that wasn’t Mark, not at all.

It still hurt, walking past his locker and seeing him laugh at something William said, only to fall quiet the second he noticed you looking.

It all started small.

Daniel offers to walk you to class one day when Mark doesn’t show up in the morning. You’re used to that by now — used to watching your phone screen go dim, unread texts hanging in your chest like anchors on sewing thread. Daniel doesn’t make excuses. He’s just there. Warm smile. Easy laughter. He knows your coffee order, knows you hate the sound of metal chairs scraping on tile. He starts waiting for you outside of lecture halls. Offers you half his lunch.

And you let him.

Because he makes you feel noticed. Present. Not like someone left on the back burner while other things pop up.

It’s not like you mean to pull away from him. Or William, for that matter. It’s just… easier, sometimes. Being around Daniel means no tight smiles, no dodging questions, no waiting for at least a ‘still alive’ text.

Still, every now and then — when Daniel says something funny and you laugh without thinking — you catch Mark watching.

He doesn’t say anything. He never does. But his eyes follow you like he’s trying to decode a language he forgot how to read.

It happens during second period.

You’re in the back row of your history class, seated beside Daniel like you have been for the past few weeks. Mark’s two rows ahead, and slightly to the left — close enough that you can see the curve of his jaw, the way he keeps tapping his pencil against his notebook, like he’s itching to be anywhere else. He always did hate Mr. Jace.

You try not to look. Or at least, not to be caught looking. But it’s hard. Not when a muscle flutters in his jaw like he’s thinking about anything but the Industrial Revolution.

Daniel leans closer, nudging your elbow with his. It snaps you away from Mark, away from the thought of Mark’s hair being longer than it was last time you hung out. Your heart stutters, is he gonna call you out?

“Tell me again why this guy thinks he can teach history through interpretive dance?” Oh.

You snort. It slips out before you can stop it—and for a second, you forget.

“That’s what I used to say to Mark all the time,” you say, grinning. “W–we had this running joke that Mr. Jace choreographed the French Revolution.”

You glance back towards your best friend—your old one—before you can help yourself.

He’s frozen. Completely still.

His pencil is hovering mid-air over the page, like he’s paused in the middle of writing. You see his shoulders stiffen — just barely — and then he presses the pencil tip to the paper hard enough that it snaps. The sound is small, but you feel it in the way Mark’s fingers tremble. In the way those brown hues are cast down straight at the shards of graphite scattered on his book.

He doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t even flinch at the fact he just crushed a pencil in his fingers. Just calmly gets up, gathers his things, and walks out of the classroom without a word.

You blink. Flinching at the way he slams the door shut behind him. Little wooden bits scatter onto the floor, and a girl at the back of the class shrieks.

The teacher didn’t even notice he left, but he damn well does now.

Your heart starts pounding.

Daniel nudges you again, quieter this time. “Hey… what was that about? Is he okay?”

You shake your head slowly, the joke dying in your throat. “I don’t— I don’t know.”

But you do. You just don’t want to say it.

Because you remember that joke. The dumb one about Mr. Jace tap-dancing through history. Mark used to do it with a fake accent, arms waving dramatically in your living room until you were wheezing with laughter in the throw blanket Mark brought over. It was your little thing, one of many.

And now you’d handed it off — just like that.

You glance back at the door again, chipped at the edges and swinging on its hinges, as Mr Jace huffs and puffs in all his red-faced glory.

The hallway is empty.

You don’t see Mark after that class.

You check the hallway. The stairwell. Even the front entrance of the school where he sometimes stands, where he used to wait for you.

Nothing.

You tell yourself it’s fine. That maybe he just needed air. That he wasn’t angry, just overwhelmed. But the lie tastes bitter, and your phone feels impossibly heavy in your fingers. You glance up at your chem teacher—an older lady with large lensed glasses, she’s too nice for this school—then back at the screen. It’s a selfie of Will and you at Burger Mart, Mark standing behind the counter with your order held out like the world sent him a punishment in the form of his friends. You miss them, both of them. You breathe out a half-sigh half-laugh.

Swallowing your stupid sorrow, you unlock it.

You open your messages and stare at your last conversation with him—from nearly two weeks ago.

You: did you wanna go for lunch at that new cafe today?

You: markkkkk?

You: we can go somewhere else if you want

All left on read. You didn’t say anything after that, didn’t wanna bother him. Maybe he was finally moving on. Better friends or something.

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You type something. Delete it. Type again. Biting at your nail as you resist the urge to rip it off entirely.

Finally, you send:

you okay? i saw you leave class

Three dots appear. You sit up straighter, heart kicking like it’s on a timer. You spare a glance at Miss Lily to make sure she hasn’t caught you.

They vanished.

No reply. No message. No explanation.

Just that haunting “Read 2:33 pm” stamp glowing beneath your text like a ghost.

You shove your phone back into your pocket, frustration and something deeper rising in your throat. You sit back into your chair too hard, making the metal legs scrape across the scratchy linoleum, staring at the ceiling like the answer might be written in the cracks.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m all good Danny.”

It doesn’t stop you from thinking about him.

It’s worse at night. When the house is still and your phone’s gone quiet. You replay old voice messages—ones you never deleted, where he’s laughing too hard at his own joke or asking you where you are that time you got lost in the shopping mall.

You see him everywhere, too. In the hoodie at the back of your closet that still smells like popcorn and the cologne he used to borrow from his dad. In the half-empty slushie cup in your freezer from the last time he showed up unannounced and dragged you to 7-Eleven “just because.”

You sit at your lunch table now with Daniel sometimes. William stopped sitting with you last week. You don’t blame him. It’s not the same. Maybe Mark said something.

And the worst part is that you still look for him—in the hallways, at his locker, in the corners of your classrooms where he always slouched like the chairs offended him personally. Horrible posture even for a teenage boy. You tell yourself you don’t care. That if he wants to ghost you, fine.

But you do care.

You care so much it feels like grief.

And every time you check your phone, you still hope the read receipt disappears—replaced by something that feels like him again.

The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the pavement as you and Daniel make your way down the neighborhood sidewalk, your steps syncing in that easy, casual rhythm that comes from walking the same way more than a few times.

Your backpack digs into your shoulder, but you walk slower than usual. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Drawing out the silence between things. Trying to outrun your own thoughts.

He’s talking about something—a goofy movie, maybe, or how the vending machine still owes him two dollars and a grudge match. You nod along, offering the right laughs at the right places, but your heart’s not really in it. Hasn’t been, not lately.

Because your mind keeps flickering back to Mark.

To that pencil snap in class. To the unread messages. To the way he looked at you like you were a stranger.

Daniel notices your quiet. He always does. For a guy he’s a bit too in tune with your inner workings.

He nudges your arm gently. “You’ve been kinda spacey today.”

You force a smile. “Yeah, just tired. Long week.”

He buys it. Or at least pretends to. “Well, you sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way home?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, slowing as you reach the corner where his street splits off. “Thanks, though.”

He hesitates, like he wants to say more, then just nods. “Alright. Text me, okay?”

You nod and wave as he heads off, then slide your headphones on, turning up the volume just enough to fill the empty space.

The music cushions your walk—from the odd 80’s song to something stupidly sad that you skip because you can’t handle that right now, to ‘Get down on it’ by Kool and the Gang of all things.

You laugh at that switch up, you remember that one time Will, and Mark, were playing blind karaoke and Will somehow, out of all the songs in the world, began singing Pitbull. You were dying on the couch, quite literally. You choked on one of the sour strips you were eating. Mark fell over himself trying to save the day. He did end up saving the day and ending your near-death experience, your ribs were so sore that night.

Your shoes crunch along the sidewalk. Your fingers trail over the stray flower bushes as you pass. You miss those dumb little sleepovers you used to all have. It makes you miss the group.

What you don’t notice, is the footsteps behind you.

Not until you reach your gate—the familiar squeaky latch already at the tips of your fingers—when a haggard voice cuts through the one quiet song in your playlist.

“Please wait!”

You freeze, nearly like a deer in headlight.

Your heart does a strange, sharp flip. He’s a little breathless, like he jogged to catch up, hands tapping at the sides of his sweater you know better than your own. He looks bigger, or maybe the sweater’s gotten smaller. You can’t tell. You slip your headphones off, scratching at the stupid little sticker he put onto it.

His brows are furrowed like he’s barely holding it together. His lip is split—not badly, but enough that you notice.

He’s standing at the edge of your driveway, chest rising and falling like he ran the last block to catch you. His hair’s a little messy, wind-tousled. There’s a quiet desperation in his eyes—the kind that makes your own throat tighten.

“I need to talk to you,” Those bay brown eyes you missed so much flickering all over your face. “Please.”

You stare at him for a second.

Then push open the gate, you take two steps in and when you don’t hear him behind you, you simply turn. Tugging at the loose threads of your cardigan as you watch him. Finally, finally he’s here and you don’t know what to say, or how to feel. So you spit out the first thing you can think of, the way you used to talk to him. Like slipping back into normalcy.

“You coming, or what?”

He blinks like you’ve just broken whatever trance had him frozen in place, then finally moves—quick strides crunching over the cement path behind you. The two of you slip through the side gate like you used to—like nothing’s changed, like the silence between you hasn’t cracked the foundation. The gate creaks shut with that familiar metallic whine, and the two of you are alone in the backyard.

The sky has moved slowly into dusk. The sky’s already dipped into shades of gold and lavender, the edges of the day softening like bruises fading. The backyard is lit by the warm glow of the string lights above flickering to life as they sense the dark. You’d put them up with Mark last spring, threading them between the beams with both your hands dirty from potting soil and pruning the gardens. Your hanging plants sway gently in the breeze—ivy and succulents and little flowering herbs you’ve been nursing for months. Longer than all this stuff, has been happening. Ferns and ivy hang from every corner.

Little ceramic pots painted by hand line the railing, overflowing with green and bursts of colour that slowly blur with the darkening of the sky.

It smells like rosemary and fresh dirt.

Mark lingers by the patio entrance as you step up onto the wood, slipping off your shoes before curling up into one of the cushioned chairs closest to the back door. You don’t invite him to sit. You don’t have to. You know he loves these chairs, not as much as you, but still.

He doesn’t, at first. Just stands there, watching you like you’re the only thing right this moment.

You break the silence. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

For a moment, a singular breath between you both, the only sound is the hum of the lights and the soft creak of the wind swaying hanging pots.

He exhales through his nose.

“I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms, eyes fixed on a chipped piece of the wooden patio floor. “For what?”

“For avoiding you, for not answering, for all this stuff that I’ve done.” He pauses, toeing at a stray leaf. He can’t even look at you as he says it. “I just want us to go back to normal.”

You laugh.

Not because it’s funny, but because it’s the only thing stopping your throat from closing. A dry, bitter thing that makes Mark’s shoulders tense.

“Normal?” you echo, your voice sharp. “Mark, you haven’t even spoken to me in weeks.”

“I know,” he says quickly, eyes snapping up. “I know, okay? But it wasn’t because I didn’t care—”

“Then what was it?” you cut in. “Because from where I was sitting, it sure as hell felt like you just didn’t want me around anymore.”

“I was trying to protect you!” he fires back, louder than you expected. He catches himself, fingers curling so hard his knuckles turn white. “God, I didn’t want to drag you into—into the danger, the pressure. I thought if I just… let you go a little, you’d be safer.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Your voice starts to shake now. “You say you’ll meet me and you don’t show up. You never explain anything, you just disappear. You don’t get to disappear, an—and then act like we can just snap back to what we were.”

“I was doing my best!” He starts pacing toward the edge of the patio. “You don’t know what it’s like, okay? Balancing everything. Trying to be there for everyone and still not being enough.”

“And you think I don’t know what that feels like?” You’re on your feet now too, arms at your sides, fingers curled into fists. “I’ve been showing up for you, Mark. Even when you wouldn’t answer me. Even when it felt like I was screaming into a void just hoping for one text back.”

His jaw flexes. He turns, hands gripping the railing, back to you.

“I didn’t know what to say.”

You stare at him, your voice dropping, cracking. Like one of the pots he dropped when you were painting them.

“You could’ve said anything.”

The string lights buzz quietly above, casting halos around the plants you’ve poured your heart into, into him. The air feels heavier now, thicker, like it’s trying to hold the weight of everything that’s never been said between you.

“I felt like you hated me,” you say. “Like I did something wrong.”

He turns then, his eyes wide, like the idea guts him. “No. God—no. I never hated you.”

“Well, you sure made it feel that way.”

He’s breathing harder now, chest rising and falling like he’s been running, but this time, it’s not from chasing you down the block. It’s from running in circles inside his own head. And you’re just… tired.

“You don’t get to play the victim in this,” you say, quieter now, but firmer. “You ghosted me. You left. And you only came back when you saw someone else being there for me.”

That hits. You see it land, like a real punch.

His lips part like he wants to argue, but no words come out. So you just stare at him. And wait.

Because if this is going to mean anything at all—he needs to mean it.

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Bullshit,” you snap.

The word hangs in the air between you, sharp and ugly. You don’t regret saying it.

He doesn’t look away, doesn’t glance out at the garden. “You don’t get it. I couldn’t tell you. Not then.”

“Why not? What could possibly be so bad that you’d rather have me thinking you hated me?”

He chews on his words, opening his mouth more than once, it makes you angry. He can’t even find a good reason. Right as you’re about to start up again, he blurts it out. “Because I’m Invincible.”

Silence.

The word falls like a nuclear bomb in a suburb.

You stare at him.

“What?”

Mark steps closer, eyes flicking over your face like he’s watching you come apart. “I’m Invincible. The superhero. That’s where I’ve been. That’s why I leave. That’s why I’ve been gone.”

You’re frozen. Your lips part, but nothing comes out.

“I didn’t want to drag you into it,” He’s jumping all over his words, speaking so fast it hurts your brain as you try and figure out, how? “I thought if I distanced myself, if I cut it off before it got serious, I’d be keeping you safe. But I was wrong. I just hurt you.”

You don’t say anything at first. You can’t. The boy you grew up with is a superhero? Invincible? He was scared of cockroaches. How—how could, why could— your brain muddles and flips.

Your chest feels like it’s caving in—everything you’ve been holding back for weeks, maybe months, starts clawing its way out of you in shallow breaths and a pressure behind your eyes that refuses to stop building.

“I thought you hated me,” you whisper.

Mark’s face crumples. “What? No. No, I—”

But it’s too late. Your throat tightens and the tears start falling, hot and fast. Not the kind you can wipe away and pretend never happened—these are ugly sobs. The kind that rip out of your chest in pieces, leaving your voice shaking and your hands trembling. You try to cover your face, embarrassed, but your body won’t stop heaving.

“All this time,” you gasp, “I thought I did something wrong. I thought I pushed you away or—God, something. You stopped texting back, you’d look right through me, and I kept trying to pretend it didn’t hurt but it did, Mark. It did, and you didn’t even say anything.”

Mark’s already moving before you finish—stepping forward, arms wrapping around you with a desperation that almost knocks the wind out of you. You don’t fight it. You collapse into him, fists gripping the front of his sweater, sobbing into his shoulder like you’ve been carrying this pain in silence for way too long. You have been.

“I didn’t hate you,” he whispers, over and over again, holding you like the world is ending. “I never hated you. I thought you’d be safer if I stayed away. But it just made everything worse. I’m so, so sorry.”

His voice breaks at the end.

You cling to him like you’re scared he’ll vanish again, shaking with all the weight of what’s gone unsaid. He just holds you tighter, like he needs you just as badly.

“I missed you,” you manage through the tears, voice muffled by his shoulder. “I kept waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Mark whispers, forehead pressing to yours as he holds you so lovingly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You sniffle, the sound ugly and wet and real, like everything else.

His thumb catches a tear slipping down your cheek. You open your eyes, and his are right there—wet and glistening, holding yours like they never stopped trying.

“I’ve been in love with you since the day you made me sit through that terrible romcom and you cried harder than the main character,” he says softly, lips curved with the smallest, saddest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “And I didn’t even care that it sucked because you were leaning on me the whole time.”

You let out a watery laugh, tears still spilling, and he cups your face gently, reverently, like you’re made of glass and starlight and a thousand things he almost lost.

“I didn’t know how to be both,” he murmurs. “A hero and myself. But every time I was out there—saving people, fighting monsters, almost dying—I just wanted to come back.”

You reach up and hold his wrists, holding him now. “You should’ve told me.”

“I know,” he breathes. “I was scared.”

“So was I.”

He leans in, foreheads still touching, your breath shared under the fairy lights of your backyard. The rosemary sways in the breeze, brushing against your leg like a memory.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You let out a broken sound—half sob, half laugh. “Say it again.”

He smiles through his tears, nose brushing yours. “I love you.”

And this time, when he kisses you, it’s like the sadness finally gives. It’s messy and tear-soaked and trembling, and everything you both have been holding back for too long. His hands are in your hair, yours around his neck, and the kiss is so, so soft but aching—like the words he couldn’t say finally found a way out. It’s messy, so messy but you need this. Need him.

When you break apart, foreheads still pressed together, you whisper, “I love you too.”

You don’t need to ask if he’s staying. You already know the answer.

.