#no offense to anybody who likes him but i had to

[strwberri-milk]

Oooh could you give reactions of the LaDS guys when MC rescues them?? I can imagine their stunned faces followed by intense worry for MC

Zayne didn't think that disaster would strike the hospital but here he is using his Evol to try and help patients and their families escape. Anybody who had an offensive Evol was part of this shoddily thrown together front lines, desperately trying to buy time until the authorities arrived.

He thinks he's about to be closed in as the roof comes down, doing his best to try and lessen the damage when he sees you come to the rescue. Somehow you manage to push him out of the way, rolling the two of you to safety as you get up to continue your path. He immediately grabs you by the wrist, wordlessly asking if you're okay. You offer him a quick nod before running off to continue, both of you understanding that time is of the essence.

When he finds you again later he's giving you a full physical, wanting to make sure that you're okay despite the accident. He can only rest once you're safe, holding you close.

If you sustained a life threatening injury he's there the entire time. He's making sure that you're okay, monitoring your progress as much as the doctors will allow him to. They don't want him getting in the way, knowing that he's especially emotional because it's you despite never having seen him like this before. He knows he shouldn't be interfering but honestly, he can't help it. He's worried and he's going to blame himself for the rest of his life if you don't get better.

Xavier lost his mind when he lost sight of you, trying his best to fight while also looking for you everywhere. When he finally sees you after you took out a Wanderer he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly as he asks you if you're alright. He does his best to appraise your current condition, doing whatever he can to mitigate any pain you feel and trying to convince you to rest before things get worse.

The attack doesn't seem to be letting up at all and you know that the two of you have to split up to continue no matter how much he hates it. He decides fuck the orders and follows you anyway, knowing that he won't be able to focus if you're not there with him.

He hears the Wanderer too late - turning around and drawing his sword half a second later than he should when he hears your guns going off. The Wanderer immediately turns to you, giving him an opening to strike back. It's faster than either of you thought it was, the scream he hears from you shutting him down.

He's glad you saved him but not at the cost of your life and he wastes the creature, knowing his body will suffer the consequences from how powerful his attack was but that doesn't matter if it means it saved you. He immediately takes you to get help, refusing to leave your side until you're actually 100%. He promised himself he'd protect you and he's going to be even more protective of you from now on.

Rafayel didn't think that his studio would be ambushed like this but he was more than capable of handling it - or so he thought. He was close to burning down his whole studio if he needed to in order to escape the assailants, surprised when they suddenly start collapsing without him doing anything.

When you emerge with your weapon drawn he's happy to see you but immediately worries about how you got through the other people they said they brought with them. You were able to take them down thankfully but he's not convinced you're alright, securing his studio with you to ensure that the two of you have nothing else to worry about.

If you sustain a life threatening injury he's immediately calling for help but also takes care of you right then and there. He doesn't want to lose any time to waiting for medical staff to arrive or your fellow hunters - he knows how to take care of you and his fire Evol is thankfully good at cauterising wounds despite how awful he feels about you trying to be brave as he burns your skin. The scars that linger upset him deeply because to him, they represent a time he failed you but in spite of them he doesn't let it drag him down. He knows it'd just make you more upset to know that's how he feels so he just focuses on making sure his skills stay sharp enough to protect you.

Sylus doesn't normally get attacked when he goes out on a job but this was a first. He was a little underprepared, thinking he'd have a quiet evening but the fight wasn't too rough, thankfully. He turns, preparing to leave without realising that there was another figure hidden in the shadows, ready to strike him down when he hears someone fall behind him. You stand over their unconscious body, a little worse for wear but nothing some TLC couldn't solve.

Sylus insists on taking you home, knowing that while you look fine there was always a slight chance that something was being overlooked and he did not want to be negligent in your care. He doesn't like the fact that you got attacked most likely because of your association with him, telling you that you need to be more careful to avoid things like that happening.

When you do get attacked because of your connection with him he has no reservations killing the person who had the audacity to hurt you. He takes you back home, patching you up and making sure you're okay in the comfort of his house. You have round the clock care and you think that Sylus isn't too shaken about your near death experience until you realise his sleep is even lighter one night. He can't sleep properly and probably won't for a while. He'll always be even more alert, constantly having either Mephisto or himself on your trail to ensure that nothing like that happens again.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So I saw a post with art about Paulina and Damian being twins in spirit and I thought it was so GOOD AND I CANYVGWY IT OIT OF MY HEADDD

So Paulina and Damian were born in the Leauge, and because Paulina was the girl and the youngest she was treated more harshly out of the two.

Talia couldn’t take it and took Paulina to the states and put her up for adoption and told Ra’s she had died. Damian and Paulina were 5

Damian grew up without his twin, believing she died. He moved in with his father when he was 9 and didn’t mentioned because what was the point of mentioning someone who wasn’t even alive anymore. He also wanted to preserve her memory, he knew his sister as a frieze warrior, and the family’s grief and pity would hurt the image he had of he in his mind

So, when Damian is 15 and is banned from patrol for one reason or another he’s in the batcave, looking over the paper work from the MCOA (meta children of America, a program to try and locate meta children with powers to help them gain control and stability) and discovers two extremely powerful metas in Illinois.

Danny Fenton and Paulina Sanchez

(I think the extensive flagged as a meta gene, and because Danny is a halfa and Paulina pent her early childhood years around the pits and amity, she would be affected)

At first, looking at Paulinas photo hurt him, because she looks so much like his sister.

And he realizes that she is his sister.

Without telling anybody, he boards the next flight to Amity.

Paulina’s life as a civilian was jarring compared to the LOA. She had figured out Fentons identity almost immediately and (for fun) decide to pretend to be obsessed with him.

And when the school had them submit their DNA for the MCOA test, she was a bit worried, but here was nothing she could do at the time.

After the LOA didn’t come knocking, she figured she as safe.

Until she was sitting in Lancers class and her twin brother walking the room.

She doesn’t know that he’s not with the League, so she thinks he going to bing her and she not about to return.

So she brawls him in the middle of class.

They keep fighting, Damian fighting on defense, and Paulina digging on offense until Damian chokes out that he’s not with his mother any more and he’s with his father now

Paulina: oh we have a dad now? How is he

Damian: stupid

Paulina: you must take after him! What his name?

Damian: Bruce Wayne

Paulina: 🫢

Unfortunately, someone records the entire brawl and posts it on social media before they realize, and suddenly the Waynes are in Amity and so is the League.

And once the Leiage takes one look at Phangom with his ectoplasmic abilities like the Lazarus pit they also attempt to capture him.

So now not only does the whole world know that there’s another Wayne girl, but that Damian and Paulina were raised in a cult and that Ghosts are real.

So Paulina and Danny take shelter in Gotham with the Wayne’s and JLA protecting them (the LOA is one of the JLAs enemies)

(Danny x Damian!!)

[python-nebula]

I will never not be devastated at the fact that Edwin, this (forever-)16-year-old who doesn't know how to fight like Charles, or use a weapon, or anything like that, can run so much faster than Charles, or anybody in the show for that matter. Because he's had to. He's had to for 70 years. And he's still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Crystal (in her 'past life') learnt to insult people because (it seems like) that was the only way people would listen to her (aka her parents).

Charles learnt to immediately go on the offensive (to protect others, not himself) because he can't let anyone else be hurt the way he was hurt by the person who was supposed to care for him.

Niko learnt to forgive people and take the kindest route because that was how her dad taught her to be, how he'd want her to be.

Jenny learnt to close herself off from people because she's been too open in the past, and she can't afford to be vulnerable again.

And Edwin learnt to run, because there was no point in fighting back, because the only way he wasn't going to have to watch his own corpse be horrifically murdered again and again was if he ran.

The final scene of the show is the first time he's stopped in one hundred and eight years.

[themultifanshipper]

i will pay GOOD MONEY to read this bro

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/756785500347580416/4-way-eiffel-tower

You hadn't been in the paddock for several months, being too busy with your career, and the drivers were starting to get antsy about your return.

But who would be good enough to have a go at you was anybody's guess as the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend got underway.

Warnings: Kinda paddock bunny vibes, but reader more in control, smut, brief stuff with Lando and Charles, slightly creepy/predatory behaviour (but everything is consensual), hand job, oral, PinV, PinA, anal, like 3 lines of dirty talk, aftercare, eeeeh idk what else

Also, here's part 2!

Max was the first to spot you on Friday morning, you were chatting with some of the formula 3 drivers who were getting ready for their practice session.

He wrapped you in a big hug from behind and lifted you up.

“I know it's been a while but these guys are a bit young for you aren't they?” he said teasingly and you slapped his arm, giggling as he put you down.

“Don’t worry, I already have my hands full with you lot. They'll get their turn if they get into formula 1”

You walked with him on his way towards the redbull hospitality.

“Yeah?” he smirked “Speaking of, what's my prize going to be when I inevitably win on Sunday?”

You laughed at him.

“Given how your car's been performing lately I'm not sure your cockiness is justified”

He gasped and put a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“How dare you doubt my talents?”

“It's not 2023 anymore Max, you can't have me all to yourself. You need to learn to share…” you smiled at him devilishly “And for your information, I won't be giving a prize to the winner anyway, so it's anyone's game”

You winked conspiratorially and sauntered off leaving Max on his own to wonder what on earth you meant by that.

The next person you saw was Lando, that very afternoon. And word had obviously traveled fast.

“A little birdy told me you weren't interested in podium sitters this weekend…” he hooked his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to you cheek in greeting “So what's a man gotta do around here to get you to himself?”

He deepened his voice seductively , but it just served to make you laugh at him, given the number of times you'd heard high pitched whines come out of his mouth during your… celebratory activities.

“Well, hello to you too Lando, how was your week?” you teased and he almost looked guilty for a second, before grinning and hugging you tight.

“I missed you in Miami, so I think you owe me something for my first win, no?” he smirked and walked you over to a secluded corner between two garages.

You rolled your eyes at him, amused by his impatience.

He crowded you against the wall and your hands went to pull him closer by his belt loops, so his hips were flush against yours. He gasped and his hips bucked involuntarily at the action.

You laughed “Come here you horndog” and he crashed his lips to yours in a desperate, messy kiss. His lips came to part yours immediately. He hadn't tasted you for so long it took him seconds to get hard.

Your hand made it inside his pants and he whined and rutted against your hand as his head went to the crook of your neck. He was breathing hard and you could almost feel him trembling in your hold.

This was going to be the quickest handjob of your life.

And he never did manage to ask about Sunday's prize.

…

A few hours later, in the car park, you were cornered by none other than Charles Leclerc.

“Hello” He murmured in your ear and you jumped at the sudden presence behind you.

You turned around quickly and he pressed you against your car to hug you.

“Hello Charles, how are you?” you said while Charles tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Horny” he answered immediately with a smile.

You laughed and he put his hands either side of you, caging you in.

“I can wait until I win on Sunday of course, but I've been told you have something else in mind”

He raised an eyebrow in question and you sighed.

“I'm not telling you what it is Charles”

He nodded solemnly “In that case…” he swiftly opened the back door of your car and pushed you inside, climbed in and closed it behind him.

“I think you owe me a little something for my Home win in Monaco, don't you think?” He wiggled his eyebrows but you just scoffed. “Come on princess, I want to taste you. It's been so long” he whined.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well if you weren't going to be doing any work… might as well enjoy a treat for once.

You smirked at him and he grinned, spreading your legs and lifting your dress…

This was going to be a long weekend.

You managed to mostly avoid the drivers’ advances on Saturday, them being pretty busy with prep and qualifying and sticking around the feeder series drivers.

You hadn't even checked the group chat you'd been added to, you assumed it would just be full of questions about Sunday so you steered clear. Your plans would be revealed soon enough.

Sunday morning you arrived bright and early, catching Carlos on your way in and told him to spread the word with the others:

To shake things up a bit, and to celebrate you returning from your lengthy leave of absence, you would be rewarding the top 3 fastest laps of the race, regardless of the placement in the standings.

As you watched the race unfold you were getting more and more excited. The fastest laps were getting passed around like a football, and you were looking forward to potentially getting to have some fresh blood.

And you were right. The fresh blood came in the form of Logan Sargeant. You hadn't been able to spend a night with him yet, him never having gotten a podium.

After the race you sent a message in the group chat:

‘Congratulations to George, Logan and Max! (And Oscar of course 😘)

The three of you are welcome to stop by my hotel room (306 at the hilton, Lando don't you dare) and you need to decide between yourselves about the order etc etc… I'll be waiting ;)’

.

After a quick shower and a quick meal you lay on your bed and checked your messages.

There was just one from George.

‘we'll be there at 7:30’

Oh…

They were all coming together. (pun intended)

Interesting…

You imagined what it would be like. Would they take turns with you? George or Max showing Logan how to handle you. Fucking you into the mattress while he sat in the chair and watched, waiting for his turn.

Or maybe two of them would fill you up while the other ran his hands and mouth all over your body.

Would any of them be into touching each other? You knew Max and George were closer than what they revealed to the public, and that they had hooked up, but would you get to see it?

You imagined what Logan could be like… Was he inexperienced? Did he fuck like a pro?

All these questions were swirling around your mind when a knock at the door interrupted you. A spark of arousal shot through you and you hurried to go and open it.

Max was leaning against the frame, George stood behind him, smirking, and Logan was leaning against the opposite wall, looking cool as a cucumber as his eyes roamed your figure.

“Come on in boys” you said cheerfully, stepping aside to let them through before closing the door and sitting yourself on the bed in front of them.

“So what’s the plan, Max?” you said mischievously “You going to show these guys how it's done? Or is George going to come and claim his prize for Austria?”

George chuckled.

“Actually, we're going to fill you up.”

You frowned at him in question. “Fill me up?”

“You've got 3 holes for a reason, right?”

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

“Fuck, okay…”

You found yourself bent over the bed, Max's mouth on your cunt and his fingers in your ass, stretching you out for him.

George's cock was in your mouth, and your hand was wrapped around Logan, pumping him at a leisurely pace.

Once you had come from Max's expert fingers and mouth, he deemed you ready and you were repositioned to their liking.

You straddled Logan, Max behind you, and George in front of you.

Pulling Logan into a sloppy kiss, you sank down on him slowly. Your heat enveloped him and he moaned into your mouth as you ground your hips down on him.

You felt Max's presence behind you and he pushed you and Logan to lay down. He positioned himself at your entrance and stroked your flesh tenderly.

“You ready, baby?”

You nodded and he wasted no time pushing the tip in.

You moaned, he was pretty big, and Logan was already filling you up nicely.

He pushed in slowly, and with every inch your moans increased in pitch.

Logan could feel you fluttering around him and it was driving him crazy, choosing to distract himself, and you, by sucking marks into your neck.

Once Max was fully inside, George came forward and stroked your cheek.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You felt so full you didn't quite know how to respond, overwhelmed by the feeling of the two men inside you.

But when they started moving it was a whole different ball park.

The drag of two cocks against your walls was sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body, it was indescribable.

They didn't have the same rhythm so sometimes one pushed in while the other dragged out, but when both of them pushed in together you swore loudly as they nudged every single one of your sweet spots.

George wrapped a hand in your hair and you looked up at him, already fucked out of your mind.

“Mind if I use your mouth, love?”

He asked with a sweet smile.

You grinned at him and stuck your tongue out.

“Good girl”

Being used by 3 of the fittest men on the planet was exhausting, but incredibly rewarding, as you felt your orgasm creep up on you.

You moaned around George and he pulled out to let you breathe.

Max piped up.

“You getting close, baby?”

You whined out a yes before grabbing George's hips and shoving your mouth back on him, the weight of his cock a grounding presence to counter the white hot pleasure coursing through your body.

“Good, because we're close too, we're going to fill you up. Right guys?”

George hummed and stroked your tear stained cheeks. “And you're going to be a good girl and swallow it all, yes?”

You hummed around him, and then Logan spoke for the first time since he'd walked in the room.

“Gonna fill this sweet pussy full of my cum, baby. You like being full of cum? You like being used like a slut by your friends?”

The shock of his voice in your ear sent a shockwave through you and you came on the spot, creaming around Logan and spasming around Max. They both came inside you with a groan after a couple of rough thrusts and stayed there while you came down.

George wasn't far behind and you swallowed all of him as his come filled your mouth.

The aftercare was amazing. George and Logan accompanied you in the shower, one washing your hair while the other scrubbed your body clean of sweat and leaked come.

Max changed the sheets (he called room service for clean ones) and then went in the shower once you were done.

You went to sleep with the three of them huddled around you, their hands wandering over your flesh affectionately.

You always took care of your boys, and they always took care of you.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

The tragedy of Katara’s parentification

Sokka and Katara were both parentified, and it’s a profoundly life-changing thing for both of them. One of the saddest things in ATLA, though, is how Sokka sort of got to outgrow parentification, but Katara never did.

Sokka’s told to be the man. The provider, the protector. He’s not so good at the former (his hunting failures are a consistent source of comic relief), and he takes failures of the latter very, very hard. He doesn’t manage to save Yue, and that wrecks him. After Yue, he becomes extremely protective of Suki in a way that’s borderline offensive to her. He’s willing to do anything to protect his friends and his family, including something as irresponsible as breaking into the Boiling Rock. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Sokka is the only one of the Gaang who unambiguously kills. The rest of them may technically have clean hands because of cartoon logic, but Combustion Man is very dead, and Sokka is the one who killed him. We don’t know how he feels about it, because the show never goes there, but I have a pet theory that Sokka is so uncharacteristically (remember he was team “leave Zuko to freeze to death”) against Katara confronting Yon Rha in The Southern Raiders because he’s the only who knows what killing feels like and wants to protect Katara from it.

But by the end of the show, Sokka’s in a place where he can start to let go of his need to protect. Objectively, all his friends are unbelievably powerful and can take care of themselves, including his sister and his girlfriend. Suki is the one who saves him in the final battle, representing not only a reversal of his initial cartoonish misogyny, but also demonstrating that he is worthy of protection. And of course, he and his friends saved the world, so there isn’t really an enemy that he has to protect them from anymore. Sokka’s loved ones create the conditions under which his parentified behaviour is no longer necessary. Sokka would still have to take the first step to stop seeing himself as the one who has to lay his life on the line, but at least it’s possible for him.

But not Katara.

Katara had to take on the mom role after their mother was murdered, which meant she was responsible for domestic labour and emotional support. Sokka says in The Runaway that her role was to keep the family together. Unlike protection, that’s always a full time job regardless of the war. We see Katara spending more screen time than anybody cooking, getting food, mending, and generally doing women’s work. We see Katara giving everyone emotional support, including strangers and her enemy. We see Katara putting aside her own discomfort and her own hurt in The Desert because if she falls apart, they all die. Nobody ever showed her that she doesn’t need to be the only one who cooks, or that somebody else can be responsible for the emotional wellbeing of her friends, or that — god forbid — someone else can actually be responsible for her emotional wellbeing.

That’s why I never cared for the Ka/taang argument of “he teaches her to be a kid again!” Putting aside the fact that Katara ends up taking care of Aang a lot more as the series goes on, the whole tragedy of parentification is that you can never again be a child. That part of your childhood, your god-given right, is robbed from you. It is extremely precious and important to still be able to be a kid, but breaking free of parentification is not about seeing yourself as a kid. It’s about breaking free of being responsible for everyone’s feelings and behaviours.

For Katara, that responsibility is not problem of perception, but of reality. Unlike Sokka, who was told and shown that his loved ones are capable of protecting themselves, Katara has zero reason to believe that her loved ones are able to feed and clothe themselves and not fall apart emotionally. Between Toph and Sokka who emphatically don’t want to do this work, it all falls on Katara. Telling a parentified child that they just need to loosen up is akin to telling an overworked mother that she needs to just relax (“happy Mother’s Day! You get a break from chores, which you will catch up on tomorrow because nobody else is doing them”). It doesn’t accomplish anything if nobody creates the circumstances under which it’s possible to let go of responsibilities. A lot of Zutara fans, spanning all the way back to the early days of the fandom, like the “Momtara and Dadko” trope where Zuko also does chores. Why? Because even without the concept and language of parentification, many fans recognized that Katara’s performance of domestic and emotional labour is inequitable and probably very taxing.

Growing out of parentification is about more than just letting go of old expectations: it’s also about finding a new way to value yourself beyond the role you grew up with. I’ve said this before, but it’s very important to acknowledge that just because a kid is parentified doesn’t mean they’re actually good at being a parent. In fact, it’s probably a given that they’re not, because they’re kids performing roles that are developmentally inappropriate! Sokka remains a shit hunter; he becomes a decent fighter but he’s still miles behind his friends. A big part of healing from his parentification is finding another area — strategy, engineering, project management (what else do you call that schedule) — where he actually excels, to which he can dedicate his time and from which he can derive satisfaction and a sense of identity. For Katara, fighting for the oppressed and combat waterbending give her that. Crucially, however, Katara does not stop being a girl when she becomes a warrior. She’s still responsible for domestic and emotional labour. Unlike Sokka, whose protector duties were more or less relieved as the series went on and he found new ways to contribute to the group, Katara continued to perform her old role in addition to her new one (which is depressingly realistic btw, look up feminist theory around the concept of the second shift). Still, it’s important that she found these new ways to value herself and her contributions…

…which disappear in her adult life. Where’s adult Katara fighting for the oppressed? Where’s adult Katara enjoying her status as a master waterbender? Where’s Mighty Katara? Where’s the Painted Lady? Where’s the person who vanquished a whole Fire Lord?

What do we know about adult Katara? She’s no longer a rabblerouser or an ecoterrorist. She did not translate her desire to help the downtrodden into a political role, like being Chief or on the United Republic Council. She’s not known as the best waterbender in the world, only the best healer, even though her combat abilities are what she took the most pride in. Even as a healer, she established no hospitals, trained no widespread acolytes (except Korra, I guess?), and made no known contributions to the field.

What Katara is known for…is being a wife and a mother. The same role she was forced to take on at age 8. One which she performed for the next 80+ years.

[ariestrxsh]

𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, loss of virginity, oral, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, blasphemy, religious kink (?), manipulator!matt, possessive!matt

📝 author's note: 📝 this fic may be offensive due to sexualizing religious imagery, and i also just wanted to say, i don't think matt would ever in a million years use religion to get into a girl's pants, i just have sick twisted fantasies so idk if you don't vibe with this story, i get it, but for those of you who do, thanks for making me feel seen 💖

✍️ Summary: ✍️ After losing your virginity to your new boyfriend, being the good Christian girl you are, you start to regret it. You confide in Matt Sturniolo, who proposes an idea to make you pure again.

𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚

coming down part one

I could never be forgiven. Not after what I had just done. I was a young woman of God, but the choices I'd been making as of late weren't very godly. I'd had sex outside of marriage with a boy named Brayden that I'd started dating at my church. I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened. It only lasted a few minutes, and it wasn't even very good, so it all felt like a waste, and all the guilt was setting in.

What had I done? How could any man want to marry me now? I had been tainted and ruined, and for what? I didn't even want to look at Brayden anymore. Never mind date him, but I didn't know how to end things, and I was wondering if I even should.

I was sitting underneath a tree in a cute modest dress waiting for Wednesday service to start, thinking about all my decisions, and praying to God for forgiveness when Matt Sturniolo approached me. The Sturniolo's were a very important and highly regarded family at our church.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Matt came up to me and stroked my cheek with his finger, sensing my discomfort. "I'm too embarrassed to say," I mumbled, looking down. "You know, you can tell me anything," Matt assured me, tipping my chin up with a finger. "Well, I had sex with a boy I'm dating. It was my first time, so now I'm not a virgin anymore," I responded, and I started to cry. "And he didn't even make me.." I trailed off, realizing I'd said too much.

"Oh, darling. He didn't even make you cum?" He said with a sympathy in his voice. I shook my head no. "You know, you're really pretty when you cry," Matt smiled at me, wiping away my tears. I shot him a little smile. He looked around for a second to make sure no one was around us. "You can't tell anybody, but I know a way for you to repent and even become a born again virgin," he smirked down at me. "Oh really? You do?" My face lit up.

"Yeah, but it's a little unconventional, and you gotta promise it'll be our little secret," Matt whispered with a devilish grin overcoming him. I nodded. "Meet me after service tonight at my car, and I'll tell you how," Matt responded.

Of course, the sermon that was given tonight was catered to feed into my guilt. We talked about saving yourself until marriage and fleeing from sexual temptation. But I tried to remind myself that if Matt really knew a way to make it all better, it wouldn't matter, and I wouldn't have to feel the heavy burden of my shame anymore.

Once church ended, I skipped off into the sunset to the parking lot and met Matt by his car. "Hi, princess," he greeted me, pushing a strand of hair out of my face and holding the car door open for me. I smiled at him, and I got in. He was so nice to help me out.

"First things first, do you have somewhere we can be alone?" Matt asked me, getting into the driver's seat. "We can go to my house. My parents are out of town," I told him, and he bit his lip at this. "Yeah? Show me how to get there, princess," Matt said, turning the key in the ignition and starting up his car.

Once I directed him to where I lived, he parked in my driveway, and we found ourselves alone in my bedroom sitting on my white comforter.

"So you know how I mentioned this is an unconventional method," Matt started. "Yeah, just tell me what I need to do," I told him. "Well, I have a special gift that God gave to me, but you can't tell anyone about it," he confided in me. "What is it?" I asked, my eyes widening. "If I have sex with a girl who has been tainted, I can make her pure again," he whispered.

"Really?" I asked him. "Yeah, but you have to do exactly as I say or else it won't work," he smirked while he studied my reactions. "How do we start?" I inquired, eager to be forgiven. "Well, first, I have to get you wet, silly," he responded in a rasp while his hand traveled up the skirt of my dress and he pulled it up so he could get a better look at my white cotton panties that had a little pink bow on the front of the waistband.

"Wow, you look so pretty in these," he whispered to me as he took his hand to my mound and applied a little bit of pressure while he worked it in circles. I let out a soft moan as I felt the front of my panties start to get wet.

He pulled my dress up the rest of the way, and I lifted up my arms to help him pull it all the way off me to reveal my matching bra. "Wow," Matt gasped, teasing my nipple through the cotton fabric with his teeth. It felt so good the way he was nibbling on my breast while he reached down into my waistband.

"Good girl, you're getting so wet for me," Matt hummed against my chest. I couldn't help but reach up and lock my fingers into his hair. I'd never felt this good before. "Before I can properly purify you, you'll need to call your boyfriend and break up with him," Matt said, looking up at me. "Right now?" I asked. "Yes," he commanded, handing me my phone. I was scared of how Brayden would react, but I had to do it to become a virgin again. I found his contact in my phone, and it started ringing.

Meanwhile, Matt was pushing me back onto the bed, slithering between my legs and peeling my panties off my body. "Hey babe, what's up?" Brayden answered the phone while Matt lowered his mouth onto my glistening pussy.

"Oh, uh, Brayden," I started, my eyes growing wide as I watched Matt's eyes watching me while he tenderly licked me. "Are you okay?" Brayden asked me after a small whimper escaped my mouth. "Yesss. N-no, actually. W-we need t-to br-break up," I managed to get out while Matt teased me with his mouth.

"Break up? What?! Are you busy? Can we meet up and talk about this?" Brayden asked in a distressed voice. "I am b-busy. Can't talk now," I said, letting out another whimper as Matt closed his lips down around my special button, sucking on it while he rapidly moved his tongue from side to side. And I hung up before I could hear Brayden's response.

"Good girl," Matt hummed with his head between my thighs. "Do I make you feel better than that ex-boyfriend of yours, darling?" He cooed, moaning against my clit sending vibrations through me. I bit my lip and nodded. "Did he ever eat your pussy?" He asked me. I meekly shook my head no. "What a shame, he missed out."

His tongue swirled around me in places no one had ever explored, sending a current through me I'd never felt before. "Matt, it feels so nice," I mumbled. "Good, sweetheart. That's how it's supposed to feel." My body started to respond without me telling it what to do. My hips bucked forward, grinding up against Matt's mouth, and my legs started to lock down around his head.

Suddenly, a feeling I didn't recognize started brewing in my lower stomach. It was like a twitch I couldn't control, and I felt something inside of me snap. It felt like an explosion. I threw back my head, and my eyes rolled back as I let out a final squeal. The wetness between my legs turned into a gushy mess, and Matt used his tongue to clean it all up.

"Oh my gosh. What was that?" I asked Matt, panting and looking down at him wide-eyed. "That was your first orgasm, sweetie. You did so good for me," Matt smiled, secretly loving that he was the first one to ever make me cum, even aside from myself. I'd tried masturbating before, but I always felt too guilty to finish, so I'd never experienced anything like what Matt had just done to me. "I didn't know I could do that," I whispered.

"We're not done yet, darling. I still have to purify you. That was just to get you ready," Matt looked up at me with a dark expression on his face. He took off his clothes, unzipped his pants, and took out his cock. It was bigger than Brayden's, longer and thicker. I couldn't lie that I was a little intimidated.

"What now?" I asked with my eyes glued to his hard shaft that stood before me. "First I need you to do the same for me and get my dick wet with your mouth, princess," he caressed my face with the back of his hand and brushed his finger against my lips.

"What do I do?" I asked. "Awh, sweetheart, is this your first time sucking cock?" He bit his lip, and I nodded. "Don't worry, princess. I'll talk you through it. I'm gonna need you to kneel down on the ground for me, okay, baby?" He told me. "Like when I pray?" I asked, getting up off the bed. His eyes twinkled with a dark satisfaction. "Yes, princess. Just like when you pray. Except instead of worshipping God, you're gonna worship my cock, okay?"

I kneeled down like Matt said, and he took his member into his hand, started stroking it, and told me to open my mouth. He placed the mushroom-shaped head between my parted lips and told me to suck on it like I would a lollipop, and so I did.

"Mmm, good girl. Now lick it," he said, and I started flicking my tongue across his smooth tip, which elicited a few satisfied sounds from him. "Now do both at the same time," he guided me, and so I did, and his breathing got a little heavier. "Good girl," he cooed. "Now, use your hand. That's it. Move it up and down. Oh, twist it a little as you stroke - oh yes," he smirked down at me while I did as he said. "Keep that up, sweetheart. That's perfect. You're such a good learner, aren't you?" He whimpered.

I was worried about disappointing him and messing up, but based on Matt's facial expressions and his verbal reactions, he seemed to be really enjoying it. Every time he praised me for the way I worked my mouth below his waist, I felt myself get wet again. Matt was such a good teacher. And he was so nice for helping me become a virgin again. I loved making him feel amazing. It was the least I could do. I did exactly as he said, put him deeper into my throat which tripped my gag reflex, and I was a little embarrassed as I started to asphyxiate with him in my mouth, but he relished in it.

"Good fucking girl, choke on it," he grunted while he looked down at my lips wrapped around him. I wondered if Matt should really be swearing while he was purifying me, but I didn't want to question him, and he was also really turning me on. "Okay, princess. I'm getting really close. Just keep doing what you're doing. Don't be afraid, but I'm gonna bust in your mouth, okay? Just swallow it when it comes out," he ordered me.

Anything to become pure again.

With a loud final grunt, I felt him fill my mouth with a sticky, creamy substance. I'd only encountered it once, and it was when Brayden came all over my stomach after we had sex, but I'd never had it in my mouth before. And it tasted unlike anything else I'd tried before.

"Good girl, can you swallow for me?" He softly asked me, and I choked it down. He looked at me mesmerized after it was over. "That was your first time? That was amazing." I nodded. "Well, you're a good teacher," I smiled at him.

"Lay back, baby, I'm gonna purify you now," he whispered, lining his dick up with my entrance. "Is it gonna hurt? You're so much bigger than Brayden" I asked, nibbling on my lip. He couldn't hide his satisfaction hearing this. "It might for a little, darling. I promise to take good care of you. If it hurts too bad, I'll take it out, and we can try again," he told me while he stroked my cheek.

He started to slide himself into me, and my jaw dropped. It was definitely big, and it definitely hurt, but Matt was being very sweet and gentle. I let out a small sob, and he hushed me and brushed my cheek with his finger, "It's okay, sweetheart. Be brave for me," he whispered as he slid into me further.

He tenderly started rocking his hips back and forth, getting me used to his girth, and suddenly, the pain was bleeding into a euphoric feeling. "Oh, Matt," I softly whined into his shoulder. "Feel good, sweetheart?" He asked me. "Mhmmm," I moaned. He thrust his hips a little faster now, and he went a little deeper now that I could handle it.

Suddenly, he hit something that started to feel really good. I felt that feeling in my stomach again like before. I felt another explosion as my legs trembled, and my eyes rolled back again. How was he so good at that? I felt myself tighten around him, hoping I wasn't hurting him, but instead, he was moaning and grinning down at me, so I was thinking he probably didn't mind. I saw stars this time. It was even more powerful than the one before. "Hold on just a little longer, darling. I'm very close," Matt whimpered.

"Does this mean you're about to purify me?" I asked through my breathlessness. "Yeah, the only thing is, I have to cum inside of you. It's the only way to purify you properly," he looked up at me with a malicious smile. Matt was the expert, so I didn't question him. "Okay," I mumbled.

All of a sudden, I felt him twitch inside of me, and he filled me with his warm, sticky goo. "Fuuuuck," he smirked as he started to slow down his thrusts.

Once we were done, Matt rolled over and laid on the bed next to me. "Good job, you were such a good girl for me. Now you're all pure again. You're a born-again virgin now," Matt whispered to me as he stroked my face.

"Oh, thank you, Matt!" I exclaimed, hugging him. "The only thing is, you can't have sex with anyone else now until you're married. If you ever get that urge again, you should come to me for help," Matt smirked. "Really? You'd help me every time I get an urge?" I asked him. "Of course, princess. My tongue and cock will keep you pure, baby."

After Matt helped me back into my clothes and kissed me goodbye, I went to walk him out. Just as we got out into my driveway, Brayden pulled up. "Don't worry, baby. I'll handle this," Matt looked into my eyes and whispered before he turned around to face Brayden. "She doesn't wanna talk to you," he said. "Matt Sturniolo? What the fuck are you doing here? Why are you with my girlfriend? Babe, why is this loser over here?" Brayden asked, looking at me.

"As far as I'm concerned, you guys broke up. And the next time you take an innocent girl's virginity, the absolute fucking least you could do is make her cum. Get the fuck off this property, or I'll make you, jackass."

part two posted here 💖

tags: @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @mattsbrowser @ribread03 @sturniolo-girl @strnlxlqve

[anitalenia]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𝒄𝒘: sexual content ahead, husband!bale!batman, fem!reader on top, riding, some dirty talk, soft sex, not my best writing but fr fr don’t come for me im just trying to post things okay? ahhhhhhh 😔🤚🏻 maybe some typos 😚 i oughta be ashamed of myself fr fr 😔😔🤚🏻🤚🏻 ₊˚⊹♡

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆; eccentric billionaire, former eligible bachelor, orphan boy, son, rich playboy.

Labels. These were all just labels Bruce never particularly cared for nor paid attention to, monickers used to try and simplify who he really was so he could be easier understood. Labels used to better classify him because rich men like him supposedly didn’t have depth or purpose beyond what the media claimed him to have.

They were just labels, words that barely scratched the surface of who he really was.

Bruce had been called many things in his life, too many awful and offensive things he had quickly learned not to pay attention to. Caring gave them meaning, he was told so early on, caring gave them significance. Now, he really couldn’t care less.

Throughout the course of his life, throughout all the tragedy and grief, Bruce had learned to ignore it all; the names, the judgments, the looks, the labels. His indifference had become second nature, an innate response to anybody trying to provoke him.

He didn’t really have a choice anyway. There were too many people praying on his downfall since his birth, too many people biting at the fruits of his labor to see if they were ripe enough for the taking. Selfish, greedy, money hungry men desperate for his demise.

Sharks lurking in untamed depths ready to snatch him up if he swam too far, hiding in the black shores with their sharp teeth bared and beady eyes hungry.

Despite what many people believed, Bruce didn’t have it so easy in the sense of work and spirit. When you were rich like he was, famous like he was, as powerful as he was, everyone believed you couldn’t possibly be burdened by anything.

That he was too spoiled by the grandness of life that it had gradually bled into a lack of work ethic, that it was his last name that gave him any status at all, that it was his reputation that gave him everything he had without him having to ask for it.

He had the money to fix any problem, the influence to hide any scandal, the face to get him out of any situation he needed to get out of.

He was CEO of Wayne Enterprises for gods sake, son to Thomas Wayne, a man that was great and beloved all in his own right. Yes, people had doubted Bruce’s ability to lead, to run a business after so long of being away from it, but then he came back and proved them all wrong as he usually did.

Being someone so honorably renowned in Gotham City, someone that carried the Wayne name at that, it came with its own barrel of familial obligation and responsibility outside of his own personal commitments. He couldn’t disappoint anyone, could never fathom disappointing his late father.

Working by day a normal man with a bullet on his back, a price on his head to any hungry buisness man willing to do whatever it took to get to the top. Then working by night as Batman with the bruises and scars to show for it. Someone every criminal and lowlife in Gotham City wanted dead.

Batman, not so much a label as he was a separate being entirely. It was Bruce, but he couldn’t find any similarities between the polite buisness man wearing a suit by day and the other man wearing a blood stained mask by night. One was forced to coerce with society in the manner of business and passive aggressive smiles, another undertaking the grueling task of removing the grime from it.

Bruce Wayne was all expensive cologne and hand shake deals, money hungry tabloids and self absorbed white collars. It was a life always on display, always the center of attention, always everyone else’s focus.

Batman was purely mystery and intrigue. Hidden from sight yet found in every shadow, heard in the trembled whisper of every breath. No one knew who he was yet he had somehow gotten all of their attention. Everyone eager to know who was behind the mask but no one ready to answer for why he existed in the first place.

The only similarities they shared were the cause for conspiracy. Whether it was Bruce or Batman they stole every headline — always someone trying to figure them out, bring their true identity to light and spread more moral quandary about whether they were right or wrong for every choice they made.

Pure opposite lives he juggled in the same two hands.

No, he did not have it easy. Always more enemies than friends and more snakes than family. Every hour, every minute, every second he spent left exposed there was always someone right behind him ready to push him if he faltered.

He had to be careful; always be passive and nice, diplomatic and respectful to those he knew wanted him gone, to the people who wanted his seat at the head of the table and the money in his bank. Bruce had to be the CEO his father wanted him to be, the one he was destined to be, the one etched into his history before he was even born.

He had a reputation to uphold, a legacy to live, a job to do.

But no, it was not always easy.

Being rich and handsome like he was did have its downsides, as meager as they may seem to less fortunate individuals. Many people hated Bruce Wayne just for those simple, superficial things alone. His looks, his status, his job he was so rightfully given. Apparently this made him an asshole, arrogant, narcissist.

It was looks of hatred and envy from men he’d never even met, women he’d abandoned after a steamy two hour hookup (not that he did those anymore but women loved to hold a grudge), businessmen who cursed him to hell and back for his amount of wealth and fame he had no control over.

He didn’t care about these people anyway. These rambunctious, single minded people who preyed on the weak and ate the hopeless. They were all self centered, arrogant, narcissistic. Self absorbed scum unwilling to put in the hard work necessary to be as successful as he was.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Bruce was often regarded as someone lonely, someone lost, someone desolate and pitiful. He was a coward, hiding in his soulless black mansion under thick piles of money ever since the fatal death of his parents. So sad, an orphan, just depressing.

That was hushed whispers behind his back and somber stares, awkward, harrowing smiles from coworkers and the front pages of newspapers. Bruce Wayne back from hiding after all this time… living on his father’s name… will he fail or carry on the legacy of the great Wayne fortune… yada yada yada.

Just more words. Pointless and purposeless, written to appease the swill of Gotham with no real substance behind them. Gossip, false news, attention grabbing headlines that were purely speculation.

However, as much as he hated labels — more so his — whatever names he got called behind his back, Bruce couldn’t find it in sensible reason to argue that they weren’t pieces of who he really was. Fabrics of his character torn out thread by thread and poked and needled at by societies curious hands.

They were just pieces, stretched and torn so far from the truth but yet the original strings were still there, hanging on in remembrance of what he truly was chaotically intertwined in the lies and deception of what people thought him to be. Too shredded to be properly understood but still thriving in the undercurrents of whatever he was now being labeled as and people were now foolishly believing him to be.

Yes, they were just labels. But labels that were not so far from factual truths.

However again, none of those words mattered to him as much as this did, as much as the one label that he truly cared about.

Husband.

Your husband.

The only title he held in the same esteem as Batman and Wayne Enterprises CEO, perhaps even higher. It was one of the only labels that carried a semblance of true meaning, one he didn’t shy from.

Husband. It was the only honorific that mattered to him, one of the only sentiments that made him feel actual pride in who he was. Husband was something real, concrete, not some anonymous opinion in a paper or a cruel murmur in a hallway.

It was the label that pierced him through and through especially in moments like this, moments when your hips were rolling deeply on top of his and he was buried balls deep inside your warmth.

He couldn’t think about anything in this moment. Nothing and everything at the same time as your finger nails, freshly manicured and glittering, gripped into his shoulder blades as you rolled your hips once again.

Bruce winced pleasantly, jaw clenching as his head leaned back into the softness of his black silken pillows. Brown hair frazzled and stringy, his smooth skin alight with a soft, lovesick glow.

You rolled your hips once more in a soft soothing motion, nothing too rough and nothing too fast; the evening had called for something more sensual in the delicacy of Bruce’s touch and the softness of his words just an hour prior.

“Oh Bruce…” You sighed dreamily, hands pressing into his bulky arms as he sighed out a trembled breath from his nose.

Your thighs tightened around his waist, his heavy hands squeezing your hips but not as to pressure you, only to keep you connected to him at the hilt so he was never too far out of you.

“That’s good, sweetheart, get it just like that… mmhmm.” Bruce swallowed heavily, voice low and raw as his eyebrows furrowed over darkened hazel eyes. Fingers thrumming on your skin as you pulsed around him, wetness seeping out of your full entrance and gliding down his length until it could leave a memorable darkened patch on the sheets.

You whined quietly, voice high pitched and greedy as the length of him filled you up and pressed into every soft wall surrounding him. He was always thick, always perfect, always felt so fucking good it made your muscles tense and spasm.

You rolled your body in that delectable way he liked once more, barely moving yet every part of him felt the sparks of pleasure thrum through his skin and make his thighs lock up.

Bruce groaned hotly at the action, eyes flickering down to the wet mess of where your pussy was sucking him in. It was messy, glistening, shared arousal in white strings of mutual attraction. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass from where it sat perched on his strong thighs.

“Mm, fuck, honey.” Bruce breathed out gruffly more to himself than you when the sight of your wetness smeared all over him made his heart spike.

You didn’t respond, chin down to your chest and eyes closed as you focused on the pleasure in your own lower regions, the fullness and heaviness that filled you up and refused to part.

“Ohhh, feels so good-“ You gasped as a heavy spurt of pure pleasure sparked up your tummy, hole clenching around him tightly as an obscene gush of wetness leaked down his cock and onto his thighs.

Bruce licked his dry lips, eyes staring up at you heatedly; at the tightness of your shut eyes, the sweet moans gasping out of parted lips — lips, lips that were glossy and plush from all the needy kisses you shared with him just a mere moments ago.

He was enraptured by you, by your naked physique all soft and sweaty on top of him but he didn’t care. You were just so beautiful, pussy so perfect wrapped around him, squeezing his cock so good it made his mind fog up with indescribable pleasure.

“Yes, sweetheart, god, yesss…” Bruce agreed huskily, his head resting back on his pillow once more as you bucked your hips. His thighs tensed, toes curled, a grunt sounding in his throat as his hips rose to further dig himself inside you.

He couldn’t help it; like a soul to a light he sought you out, your warmth and tightness so snug and comforting around him he didn’t ever want to be apart from you.

You whimpered at the intrusion, nails digging into his skin in a painful sting that Bruce was too fucked out to really notice.

He swallowed hazily below you, eyes closing then opening to look down at the way your pussy molded into one with his hard cock as you rocked gently against him. Deep inside you where he was meant to be, stomach and pelvis and thick thighs soaked with your gushing arousal.

Fire shooting down his legs and tummy with every soft bounce back down on him, illicit wet noises sounding in the room with every desperate grind.

He loved that sound, your wetness mashing with his thick base. But not nearly as much as your melodic sounds gasping out every so often because his cock made you feel that good.

His mouth was terribly dry from his own grunts and moans, handsome face and muscular chest flushed pink, the air so so hot he could feel his own dark hair sticking to the dew on his fevered head.

His hands, big and clammy, dug into the soft fat of your hips to help you dig into him in that way you both liked, the one that had you both gasping hotly into each others mouths as you leaned down to give him another sloppy kiss.

You couldn’t quite get it right though, too distracted by the feel of him so deep inside you that your lips stuttered on his. Moving messily against him as you whined into his mouth once more, the tip of his cock so high up inside you it almost hurt.

He was always so big, so round and tall that the stretch alone always seemed to ache pleasurably with every short thrust he made inside you.

“That’s good, sweetheart… that’s it… just how you know I like it…”

Bruce breathed heavily against your lips from where you were leaned on top of him, naked breasts mashed to his chiseled chest and hands gripping onto the headboard now.

You needed something sturdy, something unbreakable to tether you back to him when you felt the pleasure making you float too far.

His breath was hot against your sore lips, mingled with your low moans and spoken just above the subtle creaks of the bed; sounding every time you moved above him in a sensually quickened pace that had your toes curling and thighs tensing.

“So beautiful, sweetheart, so good…”

Bruce couldn’t help but compliment you even in the most nasty of times, voice clenched yet breathy, spoken through hot breaths and pressed teeth as your wetness dripped down his length once more.

You moaned sweetly at his doting words, his voice cracked and low in that gravelly salacious tone you loved so much.

You clenched around him in response, his fingers tightening on you as he let out a handsome groan from the feeling. You watched as his head sunk into the pillow beneath him, eyes clenched shut and a heavy grunt leaving his chest.

The sight was attractive, seeing him so wrecked from just a few simple back and forth motions you were carefully orchestrating.

You felt a wave of stinging pleasure spike up your thighs and down your legs, up your tummy and into your head until your whole body was tingling. Your eyes brimming with unshed tears as sweat prickled at your skin and your legs burned from sitting for so long.

You didn’t care about the pain, too drunk on the sensations of his thickness rubbing inside the most intimate part of you, your hips rolling in desperate circular motions so he was never completely apart from you. You liked keeping him inside as much as possible, to feel that fullness and that dull burn to remind you of just how big he was.

Bruce loved it too, resting inside your warmth, comfortable, letting you take him however you wanted in whatever way you needed. He was always a giver, always a good husband when you needed him to be.

“F-fuck, Bruce, you feel so good.” You gasped wantonly, voice quiet yet fragmented, needy and breathless as your nails dug into his skin.

“Yeah, honey? It feels good?” Bruce replied just as quietly, being sure to thrust up into you just a little bit harder so you’d gasp some more for him.

It was lewd, lovely, his dirty words spoken onto your quivering lips and his meaty hands gripping your thighs to help aid in your eager movements.

It felt so good, so right, being there with him in the darkness of his room with only the sound of your shared panting and moans filling the silence.

It was hot and perfect; his hands on your thighs gripping hard enough to show you he doesn’t want you to stop, your mouths ever so often pecking together in a sweet kiss you couldn’t continue, fond gazes in darkened irises.

“Feels so good, Bruce, I can’t—“ You whimpered out all cutely, sliding up from his chest until you were sitting straight up once more. You could feel him shift inside of you, hardness still prominent and throbbing. He pressed against your walls, invading every nerve point as your clit rubbed against his naval in the new position.

Bruce gripped the flesh of your ass between his hands, helping your soft rocking motions against him as he spoke, “Yes you can, pretty girl, you always do for me. You’re doing so good, sweetheart, you have no idea…”

The praise made you smile brokenly. Your skin so hot it felt burning yet every grind against your husbands hard cock made your legs go numb. You whined and bucked above him as a tightness started to stretch in your tummy.

“Always for you, baby…” You managed to mumble shakily, lovingly, hands sliding over the abs on his stomach as you sat back on his lap so not a single inch of him wasn’t inside you.

Bruce clenched his jaw at that, hands digging into your hips as he thrust his own up to meet your soft grinds. Sparks, electricity, all of the cliche metaphors for how good he was feeling shooting down his cock and into his legs as his knees tensed up.

He felt lightheaded yet completely grounded, here to his mattress. Floating in the skies yet simultaneously stuck on earth with you, his gorgeous wife who always made him feel sane and normal.

Your hair was tangled around your shoulders and falling over your flushed cheeks as you stared down at him with a fond glimmer in your eyes, bright and burning under the lust so boldly wanting.

The stretch of him inside you was so good, his gravelly moans so good, the way he was making you feel so so good.

You exhaled as you settled your weight down on his pelvis, pussy sore yet eager as you squeezed around him once more. Love struck eyes looking down at him passionately as the moon cascaded a light gray glow behind you.

Bruce felt the air escape his lungs, lips parted as he stared up at you in utter devotion; you were so beautiful, so sweet, felt so fucking good around him he couldn’t even think straight. Brain numb and thoughtless, only you and your perfect pussy, you, you, you.

You took a moment to stare back at him. Unspoken love was whispered in the shadows of your eyes bright and glittering as your movements picked up into polite, subtle bounces that had Bruce digging his hands into you, breathy sounds escaping his lips.

“Ah, Bruce…” You mumbled weakly, voice soft and needy as you tossed your head back and moved your hips up and down so his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you he usually loved to tease.

“Such a good job, sweetheart, so beautiful like this…” Bruce spoke huskily, staring at your heaving breasts as they jiggled and beckoned him forth, beautiful and pure as you rode him to high heaven in your most organic form.

You hummed into a delicate moan, a smile quirked on your lips at his praise as you felt his hands slowly start crawling up the exposed expanse of your waist.

Warm and big and tender as they moved up, up, gentle fingers tracing over your ribcage as your flesh prickled at the touch. He was delicate, always intent on your pleasure over his as he admired your form above him, the feel of your skin under his textured hands that had hurt so many.

You trusted him, your husband, enough to see you like this. Trusted him enough to have you like this, to allow his bloodstained hands to wash over you like he himself was something pure and untainted, bestowing him your presence like a merciful deity to their promised worshipper.

You bit your lip as his palms enveloped the fat of your breasts into them, molded perfectly into his larger hands as he squeezed and admired them in a fashion so familiar for him; he always loved your breasts, enamored with the softness and weight of them in his greedy hands.

You stared down at him with a heated tenderness, the look of a wife irrevocably in love with their husband as he stared up at you with the same fervor.

When he was here, with you, there were no labels, no obligations and no judgments. With you he was just yours, another body made of flesh and blood and bone melded to yours in the conjunction of where his body ended and yours began.

He was no one but he was your everything, hands on skin and lips on collarbones, sweat amongst sweat and heady moans breathed in the gasps of kisses shared between two lovesick spouses.

In this space, in this moment, with you on top of him and his hands all over you any remnants of shame and Wayne inspired obligation was vacant. All he needed to do was sit and let you take him, sit there and be of use when you wanted to use him.

He was a good husband, the best husband to you, his perfect and lovely wife who never addressed him as anything more than yours. He wasn’t this, he wasn’t that, he was just everything and more in the confines of silken sheets under the safety of his mansion.

No cameras, no gossip, no press and no watchful eyes. Serene, tranquil, just you and him and the great love you shared that transcended any label or common sense humanity could fathom.

Yes, he was Bruce Wayne. Eccentric billionaire, former eligible bachelor, orphan boy, son, rich playboy. But those things did not define him, did not set his reality in stone so easily as your love did. He was all those things but he was so much more.

You never judged him, looked at him as anything more than the most important thing. You regarded him with love no matter his past, his present, and hopefully and most likely your shared future.

You didn’t care for labels or surface value lies like everyone else did. You ripped him at his seams, tore him apart to see what was inside and he was ever so grateful for it, for that loving animosity that bared his soul to yours. You were straightforward, heart to heart or nothing at all because then what was the point?

There was no purpose without pain, without pleasure, without love. You suffered, you loved, and you were most definitely bringing him pleasure. All blunt and raw emotions too passionate and loud to ever try and hide or make lies about. No secrets, no deception, no labels.

This night, every night just like this one — nights spent in your arms deep inside where he needed to be most, were nights where his mind was bare and he was just yours. Nights when he didn’t have to put up a face or make up a lie or tell a tall tale.

He was Bruce, he was yours, he was just this. And most importantly, he was just your husband. The only label that really mattered and the only one he ever really cared about. ₊˚⊹♡

tagging , @little-miss-chaoss , @ghostslillady , @boobaeri , @prayingal

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC: Original Serial Adopter

When Bruce adopted Dick Grayson the Media was in a frenzy. The billionaire and playboy adopting an orphan after some kind of freak circus accident? Nobody expected it to last more than a month. The media called this action an "Act of Charity".

Then a few years later he adopted Jason Todd. Jason was much more scrappy and after a while some media started calling him the "Wayne Stray".

When he took in Tim after Jason's "accident" they called Tim a rebound. But instead of a relationship Tim was just being used to fill the void that Jason left. The media eventually called him "Jason Todd's replacement."

The media got much more suspicious when Bruce adopted Cassandra and crossed lines with their speculations that resulted in a lot of lawsuits. Though nobody in Wayne's circles believed the rumors for a second, so rumors were wiped out pretty quickly. The least offensive of these things called Bruce a "Bleeding Heart" when the media saw the scars Cassandra had.

Stephanie was never officially adopted - at least legally - but anybody who saw her with the family knew that Bruce had adopted her as a daughter. Like Cassandra she got some negative comments but they learned after the first time. "Another Wayne Joins The Manor".

When Damian came into the picture the media exploded. Comments along the lines of "The Bastard Child" which made Bruce's blood boil but kept quiet. Damian had only known violence and aggression growing up, and while his mother loved him she had exposed him to a life he didn't need to see. Bruce wasn't about to make everything worse by loosing it on the media for being jackasses.

When he fostered Duke the media exploded again. Showing the ugly side of human ignorance but Bruce and Duke were both able to ignore it (while Tim and Oracle found ways to rip every person apart who dared make a comment against them).

Bruce didn't care what they said, because at the end of the day he had children who he loved with all of his heart and was learning to do the best for. Sure, he made plenty of mistakes but he tried to learn from his mistakes.

Though the rumor about Bruce being a "Serial Adopter" was one that would be one that would never leave him.

But he had to learn it from somewhere.

A fact that was ignored until Alfred showed up back to the manor after a shopping trip with a scrawny child walking hesitantly behind him, carrying some of the groceries'. He was prime "adoption bait". Underweight, messy black hair, blue eyes that were just a bit too blue, and bruises that were in view despite the kids best attempt to cover them with his hoodie.

A large hand print bruise around his neck, scraped knuckles, and a bruise peeking out from under his hairline might as well have been ink in the pen that Bruce was going to use to sign that kids adoption papers and sign the receipt for the shovel he would buy to bury the bastards responsible.

After the groceries were put away Alfred properly introduced the kid. His name was Danny and after a series of unfortunate events while Alfred was shopping Danny had been forced to jump in and help him. Bruce thought that maybe Alfred had been in danger and never called them but when it became clear that luck just wasn't on his side and that he was never in danger for anything despite being late it made Bruce even more concerned about the teen that currently was eating his third apple as though he had never eaten anything in his life.

He stayed small, stayed silent, looking around the room anxiously. He clearly kept tabs on every window. Every door. Every exit but hardly paid any attention to the valuables. He was scared but not a thief.

Finally they have to ask about Danny's injuries. Was he safe at home? Did he have a place to stay? Why was he so thin? Did he need them to call somebody.

Danny was quiet for a long time.

"I don't have a home to go to. The bruises are fine, I'm just clumsy. I don't need a place to stay. Thanks for the food and the hospitality but... I don't feel like being kidnapped and tortured by another millionaire so if Alfred doesn't need anything else I should go."

Danny tried to get up and move, the pain obvious but before anybody could say anything else Alfred simply said.

"Sit."

Danny hesitated, then sighed and sat down again.

"You promised you would allow me to treat you before you left. I am a man of my word so as soon as you finish your apple I will bandage your wounds and you will be free to leave if you wish."

Classic Alfred trap.

One that worked flawlessly.

Fresh bandages, a full stomach, warm clean clothes and a cup of hot chocolate on the comfortable couch in the living room was all it took to lull the injured teen to sleep.

Alfred continued this trend for three more days managing to trick Danny into helping him with minor tasks around the manor, offering him another meal because he 'made too much and didn't want to waste it' and countless other things.

It wasn't until day four when Danny seemed to accept his fate and allowed them to help him. Which prompted Cass to point at Alfred.

"Original Serial Adopter."

Making the entire table laugh while Danny just looked increasingly confused.

[ckret2]

Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:

Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.

Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.

(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)

####

Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist. 

The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.

Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.

There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.

At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.

So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.

####

"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.

"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."

"Sure."

Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.

She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.

"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"

Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."

Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"

"No I didn't. When?"

"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."

"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."

"Hey!"

"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."

"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."

What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky. 

A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.

"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"

Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."

"If they didn't, were they executed...?"

"No. They were just rude."

That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"

The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"

"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"

He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."

"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."

Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."

"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"

"I didn't need a bow tie then."

Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"

Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.

"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"

Bill raised his brows.

"Right? Doesn't it?"

"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."

Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."

"Like I said! He went insane!"

"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"

"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"

Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"

Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"

(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)

"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"

"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."

"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"

She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"

"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"

He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.

"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"

She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.

But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"

"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"

"But—"

"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.

Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."

Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.

Why had she bothered?

When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.

####

Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.

On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.

The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.

####

The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."

Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"

"Who was the first triangular president?"

"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."

"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."

"How should I know!"

"You knew an hour ago."

He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"

"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"

Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.

"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"

His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.

The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.

####

He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.

There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.

####

A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.

Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.

He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.

Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?

He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.

####

Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.

Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...

And shown his true, jerky colors again.

Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.

Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.

He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?

Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.

From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"

He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."

"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."

"No. I'm gonna say something to you."

He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."

"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"

She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"

Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."

Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"

"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."

Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"

"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."

"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"

"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"

Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)

She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."

"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"

"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"

"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"

"What. Would. She. Say."

Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."

"Biiill?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."

"Aaand?"

"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."

"And you need to eat your nice rice!"

Bill let out a long, slow sigh.

"Say it!"

"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."

Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.

"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"

She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."

Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room. 

He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.

He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.

Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?

She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."

Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."

"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."

Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"

"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.

"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."

She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"

"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."

She'd never heard him apologize before.

She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."

He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"

"If you're so embarrassed—"

"Not embarrassed!"

She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"

Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.

Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.

Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.

No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.

"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.

Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.

Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."

"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"

Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.

Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)

Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.

Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"

His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."

Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."

He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"

If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"

Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"

"No?"

####

As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:

Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream. 

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."

####

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."

"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"

"Don't call me that."

"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"

Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."

It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"

This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"

"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.

"Sure."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.

Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"

Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.

But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."

"Hey!"

"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."

"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)

"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"

Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"Grunkle Stan says it!"

"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"

Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—

"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"

Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"

"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"

Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."

Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"

"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"

"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"

Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"

Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"

Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."

She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.

"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"

"i'm sorryyy."

Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here." 

As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."

"Eww, Bill."

"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"

Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it. 

So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."

A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."

His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."

####

(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)

[kisses4kaia]

god college!luke makes my emotions go haywire 😡😩 i’d honestly start dating someone else to spite him

you know what anon. ima need you to claim an emoji bc ur thoughts are TOO GOOD (also thank u sm for 1.5k💋)

so we’ve discussed previously that luke castellan does not get jealous easily.

however.

he never thought you would go this far. sure, you had danced on other guys at parties to get a rise out of him, maybe flirted here and there in front of him, but never this.

getting into a relationship—a serious relationship—with his frat brother? that was a new low. so what if he’d purposefully lead other girls into gross bathrooms at bar outings so you would see? this was uncalled for. how dare you?

so naturally, at your new boyfriend’s birthday party, when you’re sitting on his lap, helping him unwrap your present of a jean-paul gaultier cologne he’d wanted, luke—in classic luke fashion—thought this would be his chance. your sorority sister, drunk off of her wits—bless her heart—came up to you and whispered some slurred imperative about how you needed to get to ‘the square’.

your eyebrows furrowed at her as her eyebrows raised, questioning the significance of ‘the square’ and why the man who prompted her to ask chose there. you said no words, excusing yourself after finding her a water and alka seltzer.

“you really couldn’t help yourself, huh?” are the first words you say to luke, button up shirt open and lying on his back on the false grass. “me? you’re one to talk, sweetheart,” you rolled your eyes at his use of the nickname, crossing your arms as you stand over him.

beneath the twilight, your exposed shoulder skin glistened like the moon, just a sliver of it visible in the northern night sky. luke had obviously had something to drink or smoke, or both, because he slurred his words as he patted the turf next to him. “sit down. c’mon, like the good ol’ days,”

‘the square’ was a small patch of land in the middle area between his frat’s and your sorority’s backyards. it was insignificant to most everybody else, but you and luke had claimed it as yours on drizzly nights like these, when the owl called and adolescence snored. it didn’t even hold sexual reminiscences, for each night you spent on the square was spent just talking. he would gloat about some things he did over the summer, interrogate you on your sex life, laugh at your offense and crack bad jokes. he was the worst person to spend valuable time with, but you returned every night, nonetheless.

“i’m surprised, castellan. been here a full sixty seconds and you haven’t tried to fuck me,” you remained standing over his lax body, crossing your arms over your chest. “do you want me to try to fuck you? because i’m down,” he looks up at you with that smile of his. that toothy, million dollar, smile that reassures whomever it is on the receiving end that everything is okay and there’s not a thing to worry about.

you snort, giving in and sitting down. luke pulls you into his lap before your butt can even hit the cool grass, eliciting a yelp from you. his lips press against your shoulder, strong, warm arms wrap around your waist and you can’t help but melt into the body beneath you. “luke,” your voice is meant to be a warning, supposed to remind him and yourself that you belong to another and this was not right, but he did nothing except for hold you tighter and smile against your skin.

“he doesn’t make you feel like i do.” he spoke the words out of your mind, the voice of truth you swallowed down with a knowing conscience that it would rise to the surface eventually. this wasn’t what you wanted. your single goal wasn’t to make luke jealous, it wasn’t even to show him what he was missing. you just wanted it to be different. you wanted somebody to take you seriously enough to call you theirs.

but anybody who did wasn’t him.

“luke,” this time, you weren’t trying to ward off anything. this time, you were welcoming him and all his invasive, rude, luke-like, traits and the pain you knew would come with letting him in once more. “i know, baby, i know.” he said no further words before flipping the pair of you over and letting your back onto the ground. you focused on none else other than the feeling of his lips finally landing on yours, the trace of his fingers across your denim skirt’s hem. “can i?” luke’s fingers dipped past the fabric, drawing swirls on your skin. “mhm, yeah,” your smile is audible and spreads to luke’s lips.

if there was one thing luke always did, it was worship you. this time was no different. his lips were everywhere, and when they weren’t pecking kisses all over you, he was breathing praises like you were a mortal saint against your skin. and when he entered you, he fucked you like he couldn’t believe he got the chance to feel you again. but he knew what the outcome of this would be; of course he did.

you didn’t know him as a particularly selfish lover, but the way he chased his high, rutting his hips against yours to the point of overwhelmed stuttering suggested that to be true.

and when it was all said and done and the past hung in the air like a wonder of the world, luke stood and looked down at you like you previously did him.

“break up with him.”

“why?”

“you know why.”

there was no denying that, so you did none else than nod.

“yeah. i do.”

[sarahsmi13s]

Rocks Are Allowed to Crack, Stars Are Allowed to Dim

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x fem!pilot!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n nivans, the daggers, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, diego and benny harding (oc father and son)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, language, ptsd, description of accident, panic attack, injuries, descriptions of scars, flashbacks, fear of death, familial death (mentioned), crying, bottling up feelings, please please let me know if i missed any

word count: ~8.0k

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs and on my wheel for at least a year (please forgive the awkward moments). so i figured i'd take a sliver of the wheel and make him a little lighter! i've also been in a funk lately, so i thought getting something out there might help!

quick summary: everyone deserves someone to comfort them in their time of need, even the ones that always lend their shoulder

Ah, yes, dogfight football. Maverick’s way of creating a team. You play offense and defense at the same time. Tackling each other into the sand, sometimes into the water. It may be chaotic, but it’s fun and a great team building exercise.

Which is why you hated that you were running a little behind.

You sighed as you got out of your car and walked over to where Penny was sitting at the table. 

You placed your aviators on your head, “I’m not late am I?” Penny chuckled and shook her head, “Just in time. Want a beer before you go?” You shook your head, “Nah, I’m okay right now. Care to watch my stuff?” 

The brunette gestured to the items in front of her, chuckling, “I’m watchin’ everyone else's. I don’t see why not.” You chuckled and sat your wallet, phone, and keys down, as well as your sunglasses. You slipped off your shorts, folding them and laying them down.

“Nivans!” 

You turned at the call of your last name, brows raised in curiosity. 

 It was Maverick. 

“Hurry up and get down here!”

You turned to Penny, “This is gonna be fun.” You both laughed before you jogged across the sand to meet everyone by the water. 

“Sorry I’m late, Mav.” 

Maverick shook his head, “You’re not late, Rockstar. Can’t be late for fun.” 

“Not gonna take your t-shirt off?” Phoenix asked when you stood beside her. You shook your head, “Nah, I’m good.” 

Hangman sighed, “That’s a shame.” 

You chuckled at him and bent down to throw a handful of sand at him. 

“Watch it, Rockstar,” Hangman said, his voice light as he glared at you playfully.

“Or what, Hangman?” You challenged, eyes narrowed but a smile pulled at your lips.

Now, you and Hangman joked like this all the time. You considered each other best friends, which confused everyone else on base. 

Jake Seresin was an asshole. He was cocky and arrogant. You, Y/N Nivans, were not an asshole. Quite the opposite, actually. 

You were humble while still knowing your worth, but also showing anybody up if they proposed a challenge, and not being sour when you lost. 

Jake went out looking for competition, you let it come to you. 

You were also probably the sweetest thing to walk the planet. Most certainly the sweetest to walk the airstrip. 

You were nice to everyone, always giving someone the benefit of the doubt until they truly proved they were an asshole. 

You also took care of your team, they were your family. You always had the door open if someone needed to talk. Your arms were wide open when they showed up in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare and couldn’t shake it. You were their rock.

So, when you walked into the Hard Deck that first day of the Uranium Mission and hugged Hangman, everyone was confused — except Coyote who knew you from a year prior. But they didn’t verbally question you, choosing instead to ponder in private.

Hangman sighed, “Come on, Rocky. You're giving your enemy the advantage.” He tugged at your shirt and pulled you into his arms. 

You laughed and pushed him away by his chest, “You’re gonna have to catch me first.” Hangman cocked his head to the side, “Oooh, that’s how it is?” You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips, “That’s how it is.” 

You panted as you used your shirt to wipe the sweat from your face. 

When you let go of your shirt you raised your arms, calling for the ball. They threw it to you and you took off for your endzone. 

You felt the sand shift and you knew Hangman was behind you. You had to get rid of the ball, so you called out to your teammate, “Phoenix!” She ran ahead of you and you threw her the ball.

As soon as the ball was out of your hand, Hangman tackled you to the ground. 

You laughed as you laid on your stomach, arms out in front of you. 

“What was that about ‘catching you’?” Jake grunted from above you.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “Haha, very funny Hangman. Now get off, you’re heavy.” 

“First, ouch. Second, nah, you’re comfy.” You laughed and shook your head, attempting to push off the ground and basically buck him off. 

But, Hangman wouldn’t let you, laughing as he moved and made you fall back down.

In this new position, Hangman was putting pressure on a certain part of your back and panic shot through you. 

“Seriously, dude, get up,” you tried to say with a laugh, not wanting to sound rude or like you were mad at him. He just smiled and rested his chin on his hands. 

You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, but the waves hitting you pushed you over the edge. 

“Jake, get the fuck off me.” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you were panicking.

Jake was surprised by your tone, along with the use of his first name. He immediately got up and held out a hand for you to take but you just got up and ran to the table. 

“Rockstar, where you going?” Maverick asked. You called out while still running, “I need a break for a minute.” 

You got to the table, “Is it unlocked?” Penny nodded, “Yeah, why?” “Bathroom break.” Penny just nodded again and watched you take your sunglasses with you as you jogged inside.

Rooster ran over and hit Jake’s arm, “What did you do, Hangman?” Jake shook his head, “I’m not sure.” He put his hands on his hips and watched you disappear into the bar. 

He felt bad, he wanted to chase after you and apologize but he didn’t know what he did. 

“Well, you seemed to piss her off,” Phoenix said, shoving the ball into his chest. 

Maverick looked at Penny but she just shrugged, meaning you didn’t say much.

You ran into the bathroom, throwing yourself into a stall.  

You leaned over the toilet and waited to throw up. Tears had started running down your face the minute you stepped in the bar. You coughed and sobbed lightly as you tried to control your breathing. 

After a few minutes of that, the nausea subsided and you slowly stood to go to the sink. 

You turned the cold water on and splashed your face. 

“Shit…” 

You closed your eyes as the tight feeling in your chest loosened. You let out a shaky breath and looked in the mirror, cringing at the puffiness around your eyes. You grabbed your sunglasses and slipped them on before leaving the bathroom.

When you stepped outside you saw Maverick and Penny talking, and when you sat down they stopped talking and looked at you concerned. 

“You alright? Gave Hangman quite the scare for a second,” Mav asked, squaring his shoulders to you. You nodded, resting your forearms on the table. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rubbed your forehead, “Hey Pen-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, a beer was sat in front of you, causing you to giggle, “Read my mind.”

As he continued to play, Jake still couldn’t get over the fact that you called him ‘Jake’ during a day out. 

It wasn’t that you never did, but it was rare that you called anyone by their first name. 

But it wasn’t just that, it was the way you said that really made him worry. He had never heard your voice sound like that before.

He looked at you from his spot on the beach, noticing you didn’t come back to join in the fun. 

Hangman walked up to Phoenix, worried that he had really upset you and wanted help from the girl you were closest to. “You don’t really think I pissed her off, do you?” 

She sighed, “I don’t know, Hangman. Even if you did, I doubt she could stay mad at you for long. She can't be mad at anyone for very long.”

Jake nodded and watched you stand up from your spot at the table.

You finished your beer and stood up, “I’m gonna head out.” 

Maverick frowned, “You sure you’re okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just really need to shower. I’ve got sand in places sand shouldn’t be,” you said with a light laugh. 

“Okay, drive safe. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Yes, sir.” You collected your stuff and headed to your car.

Jake noticed you leaving and tilted his head, “Hey…” He patted Coyote on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” 

He jogged up to the table to ask Maverick if he knew anything.

“Is she okay?” Hangman asked as soon as he came to a stop. Maverick shrugged, not looking up at the pilot, “She seemed okay. Said she needed to shower.” 

Jake let out a breath, “So she isn’t mad at me?” 

“I didn’t say that. But as far as I can tell, she’s just tired.” 

Jake licked the sweat off his upper lip, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down. 

“Hangman, honey, just go talk to her. If she’s upset with you, she’ll be honest about it,” Penny encouraged, giving Jake a small smile. He nodded and jogged to go find you before you left. 

You were standing by your car, the door opened as you moved to get in when he approached. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake called as he walked over to you. You smiled, “Hey, Hangman.” 

Jake swallowed, “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was just messing around. I did-” 

You held your hand up, cutting him off, “Jake, I’m not mad at you. I know you were just playing. But your tackle jump started my bladder and I wasn’t kidding when I said you were heavy.” You giggled a bit to show him you were teasing.

Hangman visibly relaxed at the sound, “Okay, good. I know I like to get under everyone’s skin. Sometimes I don’t know when to knock it off. I–” 

You held up your hand, cutting him off. “Jake, I can handle your teasing. Yeah, you can get a little mean. But I know it’s all a big show. Come here,” you opened your arms and made grabby hands at Jake. 

He just shook his head and chuckled, pulling you in by your outstretched hands and letting them find their place around his built torso. 

He rubbed his hand on your back, nearly missing the slight tensing right beneath your shoulder blades before they relaxed. His brow furrowed but he didn’t mention it, thinking that maybe it was you tightening your arms around him. 

He kissed the top of your head before you pulled away. 

“Geez, Jake, you’re sweaty.” 

“You’re not too dry yourself, Rockstar.” You laughed and playfully shoved him away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” You smiled and slid into your car, “I’ll kick your ass tomorrow Hangman.” 

He scoffed leaning on the roof of your car and the open door. “Since when did you get so cocky?” 

You smirked and placed your glasses on your head, forgetting that your eyes could still be red and puffy from earlier. “It’s not cocky if it’s the truth.” 

Jake shook his head and looked back to the shore. “Uh-huh. We’ll see.” He leaned back and patted the top of your car. “Drive safe.” You nodded, and he closed your door. 

He watched you start it up before driving away.

Jake shook his head and made his way back to the group.

Speaking of the group, they had all noticed the change in Jake when you showed up at the Hard Deck a few months ago. 

While he was still his cocky self, having no shame in bragging and trash talking, he seemed to tone it down when you were around.

They also noticed how he always made sure to find you in the crowd, keeping an eye on you. Coyote joked that you had Hangman wrapped around your finger, that he would be at your side with a simple look. 

Jake was painfully aware of the effect you had on him. 

When he met you a year ago, he was starstruck by your dazzling smile. 

So, naturally, in true Hangman fashion, he flirted with you. 

With a toothpick between his perfect white teeth and his bright green eyes shining under the yellow lights of the bar, he walked up to you. 

“I sure hope no one left you alone.” 

When you turned, eyeing him up and down to take in the uniform, beer bottle popping as it left your mouth, his breath was ripped from his lungs. 

“Well, you’re here now. I’m not alone.” 

Seeing your smile up close caused Hangman to blush, and leaving him thankful that his tan could somewhat hide it. 

“Well, ain’t I special.” 

You nodded, giggling while looking down at the bar, “That you are. But, before this can go any further, I’m gonna be honest, I’m more dedicated to my work than anything else at the moment. And I have to be up by 5, so I’d hate to lead you on.” 

Jake shook his head, but you continued, gesturing around the bar, “I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love to get attention from you and give you attention.” 

Jake smiled –not smirked, smiled– while leaning on the bar, “Well, the only one I want attention from is you. Plus, I can’t stay out too late either. Gotta be at work early too, so I guess we’re both clocking in early.” 

None of the feelings that day had been one sided. You also had been starstruck by Hangman. 

He was broad shoulder, tall, tan, and had a voice that could make a girl swoon in a second. But you knew he was a pilot, his uniform gave it away, and you knew how they acted. Except, you liked Jake’s company and decided to talk all night with him. 

Ironically, what you both did for work never came up.

So, imagine the look on Jake’s face when he saw you the next day in your flight suit. 

“You didn’t tell me you were a pilot.” 

You smirked, “You didn’t ask.” 

He shook his head, biting his lower lip to hide his smile but failed. 

You nodded to him, “What do they call you?” 

“Hangman. What about you?” You smiled, “Rockstar.” 

You were able to peg why he earned his callsign very early on but he couldn’t seem to figure yours out. 

Until he had a close call and couldn’t shake it.

The last day of training had just ended, tomorrow you might not come home, and to say you were nervous was a major understatement. 

As you changed to get ready to go out with the squad, you couldn’t stop shaking. You knew you needed a drink… okay a couple drinks.

While you changed, Hangman was walking around, looking for you. 

When he walked past the locker room, he caught a glimpse of you reaching to pick something up.

He turned to walk in, but stopped when he saw that you only had your pants on. But, before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed up your back; starting from above your waistline on your pants and going up. 

Then he stopped, his eyes widening when he saw the large scar that looked fairly new – maybe a year or so old. It spanned from the middle of your left shoulder blade to nearly below your ribcage and was positioned diagonally across your back. 

Jake quickly looked away, realizing that you must have not wanted anyone to see it if you hadn’t told him. 

His brow furrowed as questions ran through his mind. Was that why you freaked out during dogfight football, the other day? Why you always tense up when you get an unexpected touch there? 

Shit… He thought, feeling like a horrible friend for never noticing and never asking. 

Jake took a deep breath and walked away, choosing to approach the locker room differently and pretend he never saw you. 

He put on a smile and walked back towards the locker room, “Hey, Rockstar! You almost ready?” He stopped just short of the door, leaning his back against the wall. 

Your head jerked up as you pulled your t-shirt down. “Uh, yeah, Hangman. I’ll be ready in a second.” 

You finished getting ready and walked out, jumping slightly when he pushed off the wall. 

“Geez Hang, don’t do that!” You punched his arm. 

“Gosh, I forgot how hard you punch.” He chuckled and rubbed the spot on his arm as you both walked to the parking lot.

You all sat in the Hard Deck, drinking and playing pool.

“Dude, she’s kicking your ass!” Payback laughed as he clapped Hangman on the shoulder. 

You were, in fact, kicking Jake’s ass in pool. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the blond narrowed his eyes at Payback. 

“Yeah, you feelin’ okay? You’ve been off your game tonight Bagman,” Rooster commented, smirking as he drank his alcohol. 

Instead of clapping back at the jab, Jake just rolled his eyes and lined up his shot. 

That made you frown, Hangman always had a comeback. Always had sarcastic quips to embarrass the other person. But he was silent. 

You made eye contact when he stood, silently asking if he was okay. He just nodded and moved to sink another pool ball. 

You didn’t want to drop it, but you did for the sake of having fun before facing the chance of death tomorrow.

Sometime later, after a few rounds of pool and drinks, you all stood around and just talked.

“Hey, did you guys hear about that one pilot that saved her WSO’s life when they got shot down?” Bob asked, looking around the group. 

You clenched your jaw slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice. 

“Bob, that happens all the time. It’s kinda what we do,” Phoenix said, squeezing his shoulder. 

Rooster stood up and sat his beer down. “No, not the way this pilot did. Bob, I know who you’re talking about. I read the mission file, the only thing that was classified was the pilot and WSO’s names.” 

You swirled the beer in your glass, not looking up from the amber liquid. “Did the pilot survive?” 

When you finished asking, you looked up, trying to ignore the watchful eyes of Hangman as you met Rooster’s eyes. 

The latter nodded, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she did. But she had a pretty serious injury. I’m not sure if she was ever clear to fly again.” 

You nodded and looked back down at your glass. 

“And the WSO?” Jake asked, eyeing you as you downed the rest of your drink before looking at Rooster and Bob. 

“He survived. But I don’t know if he still flies,” Bob answered. 

“Well, that’s good that they both survived,” you said, your smile returning to your face. 

Rooster shook his head a bit, “Yeah, but that pilot pulled a risky move. Saving some like that…” 

Your smile dropped a bit, “People have their reasons.” You raised your glass, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Hangman watched you leave as the conversation changed into something more light hearted. 

Jake took a step to go after you but Coyote caught his arm. “Hey, come on. Play me in a round of pool. Let’s see if you still got your game.” Jake looked from his friend back to you and saw you laughing with Penny and Maverick at the bar. That allowed him to relax a little bit. 

“Oh, I still got my game. Let’s see if you found yours,” he smirked. “There he is!” Coyote laughed and clapped Jake on the back.

As Jake played pool with Coyote, you talked with Penny and Maverick. 

“Are you serious?” 

You nodded, laughing at Penny’s reaction to you telling her how you and Jake met. 

“Pen, why are you surprised? Hangman flirts with every girl,” Maverick said, using his hand to point the direction of the mentioned pilot. You and Penny both nodded your agreement. 

“Sounds familiar,” Penny says, a playful grin on her face making Maverick roll his eyes.

You had become so invested in your conversation with Penny and Mav, that you missed Rooster coming up behind you.

He placed his hand on your back, right on your scar, making you tense and jump in surprise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’ Rocky,” he took his hand off and leaned on the bar. 

“You doin’ okay? You seemed a bit…” He glanced back at the group, thinking of the right word. “...tense a minute ago.” 

You bit the inside of your lip, had you really been that obvious? 

Still, you nodded and gave him your best smile. 

But to him, he could see that it didn’t reach your eyes. He may not have been your best friend, but he had seen plenty of your genuine smiles and this one did not make your eyes shine like the others. 

Bradley decided not to press, “Okay…” He turned to Penny, “Penny, could we get another round?” The bartender nodded, “Of course, but you’re reaching your cut off.” 

Penny had set a cut off for drinks for the pilots not wanting them to go into this mission hungover. You chuckled and glanced back at the group, all of them messing around and having fun. “Yes ma’am.” 

You turned to Rooster and then back down to your empty glass. Penny hadn’t refilled it yet, having started a conversation with you as soon as you came over. 

You glanced at your watch, seeing that you had been there for a couple hours. 

Penny sat a tray down, placing the full glasses on top. “There you are, Rooster. Who’s tab?”

Rooster opened his mouth to tell her to put it on his, but you beat him to it, “Put it on mine Pen.” 

“You got the last round, Rockstar,” Rooster argued. You shrugged, “I don’t mind. Plus, I’m closing my tab for tonight.” 

“What? You’re heading out already?” You nodded, sliding Penny your card, “I’m hitting my limit, Roos.” 

Bradley searched your eyes for a moment, looking for any indication that something was wrong.

You were usually the one that made sure everyone was okay to go home and if they needed rides; so leaving early rung bells in Rooster’s head. 

Penny gave you your card and receipt, “Thank you.” “Thanks Pen,” you gave her a smile before turning back to Rooster. 

“Tell ‘em I’m heading out. I know if I do it I won’t be able to leave.” You gave him a one armed hug and turned to Maverick, “See you in the morning, Captain.” 

“See you in the morning, Rockstar.” 

Penny gently squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile as you slid off the bar stool and walked out. 

Rooster, Maverick, and Penny watched you leave the building before turning to each other, concern written all over their faces. 

“Is she okay? She’s been acting a little off ever since dogfight football the other day,” Penny asked the two pilots. 

They both shrugged, Bradley looking up at her. “I was about to ask you the same thing.” 

“I’ve noticed, but I thought it was just because Harvard and Yale had to eject the other day,” Mav admitted. “We were all a little shaken up by that…” 

It was silent for a minute. 

“You know… if one person knows anything, it’d probably be Seresin,” Penny said, pointing over to the pilot, who was very invested in the game he was winning, and basically suggesting that they talk to him. 

Bradley sighed, knowing that Penny was right and if anyone knew you the best, it would be him. He grabbed the tray, thanking Penny and walking over to the group.

They all cheered when he sat the tray down, taking a glass for themselves. 

Jake noticed that there was an extra and he frowned in confusion before he realized it was for you. 

He looked up, eyes searching for you in the crowd, panicking a little when he couldn’t see you, “Where’s Rockstar?” 

Rooster sighed, “She closed her tab and left. Said she reached her limit.” 

Fanboy frowned a little bit, “Why didn’t she just tell us herself?” 

Rooster shrugged, “Said if she did it would take longer for her to leave.” 

“Does she seem different to you guys?” Coyote asked, finally voicing his concern that had buit up over the last few days. 

The group shared a look before making small noises of agreement. 

“I mean, she’s still the same Y/N. Still lighting up a room and being there for us like she always has been… I just… I don’t know.” 

Rooster looked at Jake, “Hangman, you’re like her best friend, do you know anything?” 

Jake shrugged and shook his head, “All I know is she’s nervous for tomorrow and the accident the other day shook her up a bit, but she hasn’t said anything else.” 

He took a large gulp from his beer, hoping to swallow the confession of seeing your scar that he wanted to bring to light.  You trusted Jake and he wasn’t about to ruin that by telling the squad what he saw when he wasn’t even supposed to know it was there.

Meanwhile, you walked the beach, taking in the fresh and salty air. You just needed the quiet time before you went home.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, seeing a text from Hangman and laughing slightly at the message.

Hangboy: Hey, I get that I kicked your ass those last few rounds of pool, but you could have told me you were leaving. I would have walked you out. Text me when you get home. 

Also, there was an extra beer. I assume it was meant for you, but you left so I drank it. Don’t worry though, I can handle it.

You shook your head and opened your phone, but not to text Jake.

You went to your contacts and pressed the caller ID, putting the phone to your ear as it rang. 

“Hey, Rockstar, what's up? It’s been awhile.” 

You smiled, sighing, “Sure has been, Tundra. How are you? How’s the little one?” “I’m good. Ben is great, he wants to know when you’ll be by again to visit.” 

You giggled at the fact the 6 year old wanted to see you. “Soon… hopefully.” “Y/N, I know that voice. Is it happening again?” You shook your head, despite the fact that Tundra couldn’t see you. 

“No, no. Well, sorta, but this is different Diego.” You heard him shift, presumably crossing his arms. “What do you mean?” 

You sighed, remembering that you couldn’t share all that much about the mission, even if he was former Navy. 

“I don’t know how much I can tell you. But I got called back to TopGun, and I could be flying out on a mission tomorrow. A dangerous one.” 

“Y/N, do they know?” 

You shook your head again, this time to fight tears. “No, but I’m scared that mid air, I’m gonna freeze. I don’t wanna freeze, Diego. I haven’t frozen since our incident. But I don’t know what’s been wrong these past couple of weeks. I can’t seem to shake off this dread… this-this fear. I do-don’t-” 

He cut you off, “Have you talked to anyone recently?” 

You were silent and he took that as a no. “Y/N, you have to talk about it if you ever want to move past it.”  “I did though. I had mandated therapy for my entire time in recovery.” “And have you been since you recovered?”

You threw a hand up, frustrated, “I thought I was past it! I hadn’t had an attack in a year, not until we were playing football. I-I thought it was just a one time thing, and then something happened during training and I just-” 

You were cut off by a small, tired voice. 

“Is that Aunt Y/N?” 

“It is. Do you want to talk to her? I think she needs to talk to you.” “Yes, please!” You smiled as you heard the phone go to speaker and then be passed to the little boy. 

“Hey, Aunt Y/N!” 

You smiled, tears finally falling, “Benarino, hey buddy.” “I miss you. When are you coming to visit?” You wiped at your eyes with a shaking hand. “Soon, buddy. Really soon,” you sniffled. 

“Aunt Y/N, why are you crying?” 

You laughed, coughing a little at the end, “I just really miss you Benny. I can’t wait to see you.” 

You looked back at the Hard Deck, seeing your fellow pilots laugh and sing. 

“I’m gonna bring a friend too. If that’s okay with your mom and dad?” “That’s alright with me, Rockstar. I’m sure Lila won’t mind.” 

“Who is it?” 

You brought playfulness into your voice, “You remember the pilot I told you about? The one that thought he could fly better than your Aunt Rocky?” 

The little boy giggled, “Yeah!” “Well, I think it’s about time you brought home the boy that stole your heart.” 

“Diego,” you hissed. “We are just friends.” “Mhmm, sure.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You should probably get Ben to bed before Lila wakes up.” 

You heard Diego grunt as he picked up his son, “Goodnight Benny Boy.” “G’night Aunt Y/N.” 

“Call me when you make it back.” You nodded, hand sliding into your back pocket, “Yeah, of course. Night Tundra.” “Night Rockstar.” 

The call ended and you slid your phone into your unoccupied back pocket.

You took in a deep breath, trying to relax again. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out. 

On an inhale, the scent of smoke filled your nostrils and it made you hold your breath.

Quickly looking around, you spotted a bonfire a couple yards away. Realizing it was harmless, you let out the breath and tried to relax your shoulders.

But, despite knowing it was completely harmless, your body went into a state of panic. Your chest tightened, limbs went numb, pain spread through your back, and tears filled your eyes. 

You held a hand to your chest, the air stopping just before it made it to your lungs, and stumbled to your car as fast as you could, hoping you weren’t seen by your friends inside the bar.

Jake looked at his phone as he left the bar. You hadn’t texted him, and by now you definitely should have been back to your on base bungalow. 

Hangman wasn’t going to panic, he knew you well enough that you would have texted or called him if something bad happened. Of course he felt anxious, who wouldn’t, but he was going to remain calm. 

The reason you hadn’t texted him when you got home was because the moment you fumbled yourself into your place, you booked it for the bathroom. 

Your knees smacked into the tile and you threw up whatever alcohol you had consumed before the strangled sob ripped itself from your throat. You crumbled to the tile as your chest refused to let air in. 

Your skin felt hot and sticky, sweat coating it as you laid on your bathroom floor. It wasn’t helping you, your damp, hot skin sending you back to one of the worst days of your life.

So, in a frenzy, you ripped off your shirt and kicked off your shoes and socks before yanking your pants off, not even loosening your belt. 

You crawled over the tub wall, too dizzy to properly stand, before fumbling with the knob to turn the water on. 

Once you got it turned on, you jostled the faucet switch, a desperate sob escaping as it kept falling down before it finally stuck, turning the shower on and drenching you in water.

And that was how Jake found you.

Jake decided to stop by your place and check on you, that being his only option to get his anxiety to go away. 

When he pulled up to your place and saw your car there, he let out a breath of relief. 

He parked his truck behind your car and ran to your door, his chest lighter than before.

But his chest became heavy again when he made it to your door only to find it unlocked. You rarely left your door unlocked, if ever.

He cautiously pushed it open, looking around to see if anything was out of place. 

Your keys were on the floor, your phone and wallet not too far from them. 

Jake walked further in, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. 

He held his breath as he looked for you. But his search was cut short when he heard the shower running. 

He exhaled and had to take a minute to calm the drumming in his chest. 

He cautiously walked to the bathroom, making sure to knock before walking in. He kept his head down so he didn’t see anything he wasn’t supposed to… again. 

“Hey I was-” 

The door stopped, hitting something on the floor. 

Hangman squinted his eyes in confusion. It was your shoe. He kicked it out of the way and pushed the door open enough for him to just step in and close it. 

He stopped with his hand on the door, realizing that the room didn’t feel like a sauna. There was no fog covering the mirrors and steam wasn’t filling the small space. You always showered hot, and right now the bathroom was freezing. 

Jake finally looked up and saw you curled in the shower, the water cascading from the faucet and hitting your back. It was obvious you had been there for a while because you were shivering. 

Jake sat on the edge of the tub cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

His heart broke at the sound of your quiet crying and the puffy redness of your eyes was a sight Jake never wanted to see again.

The eyes that usually held the brightness of the stars and a kindness that was unmatched, were now red, distant, and constantly filled with tears that fell over and mixed with the water drenching you. 

He hated it.

Jake held his hand under the water and recoiled at how cold it was. 

“Shit,” he cursed as he quickly turned it off. 

When you didn’t react, he knew you truly weren’t in this reality. 

“Y/N,” he spoke gently and touched your arm. He sharply inhaled when he discovered how cold you were. “Y/N, darlin’, we need to dry you off and get you in some warm clothes. You’ll get sick.” 

Jake wasn’t sure if you heard him because you just stared ahead, biting on your nail. He sighed and pulled your hand away from your mouth. 

He moved to pull his hand back but you grabbed it, your freezing cold hand latching onto his warm one. “Please don’t… Jake, please don’t leave.” 

Your voice was quiet and broken, raw with fear. And he was sure that sent a shiver up his back.

Jake quickly shifted to kneel beside the tub, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand. “I’d never leave you hangin’.” 

He looked you over, “Can I pick you up?” You nodded, letting his hand slip from your grip and feel it wrap under your legs.

He awkwardly shifted to lean over and pick you up, grunting a little as stood up. He was too pressed about his clothes getting wet, he’s sure he’s got pants somewhere around here.

Jake managed to open the bathroom door and walked to your bedroom. 

He sat you on the bed and quickly grabbed the towel on the back of your desk chair. 

Wrapping it around you, Jake kissed the top of your head. “You’re okay. You’re safe,” he spoke gently against your hair.

He pulled back and watched you bite your lip to keep your tears hidden.

You avoided his eyes, looking at your shaking hands. 

“I’m gonna get you some clothes, okay?” You slowly nodded, lip trembling before you bit down on it again.

Your eyes didn’t follow him as he walked around your room, but your ears were very aware of Jake’s noises; everything from his footsteps to his mumbling. 

In under five minutes, neatly folded clothes were placed beside you and Jake kneeled in front of you, his large hands resting on your biceps gently. 

“Do you want me to stay while you change?” 

It took you a second to register what he had asked, but he was patient and rubbed reassuring circles on your arms with his thumbs. 

You inhaled, the familiar scent of his cologne calming you down a bit. 

You were tempted to say yes, you didn’t want to be alone but you also didn’t want Jake to see you any more vulnerable than he already has. 

You shook your head, unconsciously pulling the towel tighter around you. 

Jake noticed it and nodded, “Okay, I’ll go tidy up your bathroom and throw some blankets in the dryer to fluff them up and get ‘em warm.” He gave you a small smile and stood, leaving the room and the door open just a crack.

You managed to peel off the wet bra and underwear, drying off before changing. 

That simple task was exhausting. It felt like your bones had turned to rocks and your muscles no longer existed. But eventually, you did it.

You haphazardly dried your hair, basically just dry enough to where it wasn’t dripping, and walked into the small living room. 

You sat on the couch, deciding to occupy your hands with your oversized shirt while you waited for Jake. 

Minutes later he was on the couch beside you, wrapping you in the fresh-out-of-the-dryer blanket. 

“Thank you…” Your voice had a rawness to it that made Jake shiver, something was really wrong and he didn’t know how to help.

He nodded and rubbed your upper back, “Of course.”

He sat there for a moment, just listening to your sniffles and weeping exhales, before finally turning to face you. 

“What’s going on? ‘Cause this-” He gestured to you and your current state. “-is way more than just nerves for tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be-” 

“If you say ‘fine’, I swear,” he sighed to control his volume. “Y/N, you are not fine.” 

“Jake…”

The blond pilot took a deep breath, looking at the sliver of couch cushion between you. “I saw it…” 

If you weren’t going to be honest, then he needed to be. Maybe what he saw is connected to what was shaking you to your core all of a sudden.

He finally looked up at you and watched your breathing halt as fear filled your eyes. 

Jake continued, making sure to keep his tone even, “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for you in the locker room today and I-” He stopped talking when you choked out a small cry. 

He immediately pulled you into his lap, one hand going to the back of your head and the other arm wrapped around your lower back. “I got you… I got you.”

Jake closed his eyes and rocked you a little as his mind went back to the day these roles were reversed.

Jake had sat in the locker room, flight suit half off and tied around his waist. His knee bouncing as his eyes went in and out of focus. 

“Hangman!” You called as you ran down the hall. But he couldn’t hear you with the blood still rushing in his ears. 

“Hangman! Hang- There you are!” You jogged to him and saw that his emerald eyes were blank, not the playful or confident eyes you normally saw. “Hey, Hang- Jake what’s wrong?” You knelt in front of him, putting a hand on his bouncing knee to stop it.

Jake looked at you, the concern swimming in your eyes breaking whatever resolve he had left. 

The tears he tried so hard to hold in finally spilled down his cheeks. 

You instantly cupped his face in your hands, wiping them away, “What’s got you so shaken up? I’ve never seen you like this.” 

He shook his head, pushing your hands away as he sat up and leaned against the locker. “You’re not supposed to.” 

You sighed and leaned back on your heels, “What happened up there?” 

Jake wiped the still flowing tears, shaking his head, “I don’t know. I guess- Fuck I don’t know, Rockstar.” 

You stood, “Talk to me, Jake. Please, I’m your friend and I want to help.” 

Your tone was desperate and worried. This was a new version of Jake that you would have never seen if you hadn’t followed him off the tarmac.

Hangman finally got the guts to grab your hand and squeeze it. He took a deep breath as he tried to collect himself. 

“I almost lost you up there. You’re one of my closest friends, we’ve only known each other for a few months and I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I never let myself be that close to anyone, but you made it so easy.” 

His voice was raw and shaky. He was scared, but you couldn’t blame him. What just happened to you both was really intense and it was scary. But you were both okay.

You squeezed his hand back, giving him a soft but encouraging smile. 

“Can we just- Shit this is gonna sound so weird…” 

You knew where he was going, so you straddled his legs and wrapped him in a hug. “I got you Jake, I got you.”

That was when Jake realized the backstory to your call sign. You were everyone’s rock. You kept everyone sane, even at the expense of yourself.

Which is why you were currently shaking and sobbing in his arms. You never sought out comfort for your problems, a bad habit you picked up in high school. You always put everyone first, and you had it in your head that you couldn’t be vulnerable. 

You pulled away from him, not meeting his eyes, “I’m sorry…” 

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” 

“Because I-” 

“Because you’re being vulnerable in front of someone?” You nodded, unconsciously playing with your fingers. “Look at me, please.” You did, biting your lip to hold your tears in. 

“You are allowed to be vulnerable. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be scared. You shouldn’t have to hide your feelings from your friends. I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to us.” 

You nodded, staying silent, focusing on how Jake had moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheek to rub his thumb back and forth on your cheekbone. 

Your silence broke his heart a little bit, making him think you didn’t trust him. But he knew he had to be patient with you. 

He goes to move his hand away but you hold it there. “I thought I was over it…” 

“Over what, Sweetheart?” 

“The accident…” 

Jake pushed some hair behind your ear, “What accident?” 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He wiped them away as he spoke softly, “Take your time…” You nodded, swallowing as you tried to catch your bearings. 

“A year before I was stationed with you, I was flying a mission. It was dangerous, but still fairly routine. On my way out, I got hit. It completely destroyed my weapons system. Before I could get back up, I was hit again. This time it took out my engine.” You took another deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. 

“We were dropping altitude fast and my WSO and I had to eject. We landed on a beach, we unbuckled so fast,” you chuckled, remembering the relief you and Diego felt before the shit hit the fan.

Jake smiled a little bit at the sound, but dropped it when you started talking again.

“However the jet had also crashed onto the beach too. The fuel had leaked and caused an explosion. I covered my WSO, and a piece of scrap metal lodged itself into my back.” 

Jake’s eyes widened, more dots connecting in his mind, “You’re the pilot the squad was talking about at the bar…” 

You nodded, wiping your eyes, “Jake, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just… when I was in recovery, if I wanted to fly again, I had to go through therapy. And I haven’t had an attack in a year…” You got choked up again, hot tears rolling down your face, “Hang, I’m so sorry.” 

He shook his head, using both of his hands to wipe your face, “Hey, don’t be sorry. Do I wish you would have told me sooner? Hell yeah, but I understand why you didn’t.” You just nodded and relaxed into his hands.

“What happens when you have an attack?” 

You took a sharp inhale through your nose before sighing it out, “It depends. I sometimes get flashbacks of the beach, everytime I close my eyes I just see fire and it’s fucking terrifying. Other times, when it gets really bad, I can feel pain in my back, but that’s rare.” 

You bit your lip a little as you looked away, and Jake knew, “That happened tonight didn’t it?” You nodded, coughing a little bit, “Yeah, uh, yeah it did.” 

“Was it because we talked about-” 

“No," you said quickly. "W-well, I mean kinda… yeah. But there was a bonfire happening on the beach, and just the two things… my brain went into panic mode. Before you ask, I don’t really know what triggers it. But during dogfight football-” 

Jake’s eyes widened and he dropped his hands, “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” 

“Exactly, Jake, you had no idea. It’s not your fault. It was just the pressure on my scar made me panic, and I was back on that damned beach. But I’m not mad or upset with you because you had no idea. So don’t beat yourself up, please.” 

Jake nodded, bringing you into a hug again, being mindful of the scar. “Jake, you can touch it. I know I’m safe.” He said nothing and brought a hand to run over the covered scar before tightening his hug. 

“Can you tell me about him? Your WSO?” 

You nodded, “Diego Harding, call sign Tundra. He has a wife and a son.”

“That’s why you-” 

“Yeah, that’s why I covered him. He had a family to go back to.” 

“What about you?” 

You sighed again, using Jake’s shoulders to sit up, “Most of my family served. My dad was killed in action when I was young. My mom died when I was a teenager, leaving Piers to raise me for a little bit. Then Piers goes and sacrifices himself… so I didn’t have anyone to come home too.” 

You shrugged and got off his lap, but snuggled into his side.

He rubbed lazy circles on your bicep. “Well now you do.” You looked up at him confused, “What?” 

“You’ve got me to come home to, and I’ve got you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Don’t get sappy on me, Seresin.” He just chuckled.

It was silent for a moment. 

“Promise me that you’ll do your best to fly back to me,” he asked in a hushed whisper as if he were telling you a secret.

“Only if you do,” you whispered back.

He held out his pinky, “I promise.” You nodded, interlocking your pinky with his, “I promise too.” 

“Can’t break that now, you know,” he chuckled, squeezing your pinky a little. You giggled a little before yawning, “I know, cowboy.”

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OVERACHIEVING MOUTH

— ❣︎✰︎☮︎ — "let's see how else you can use this overachieving mouth." — ☮︎✰︎❣︎ —

IN WHICH a class project brings two senior students together as an unlikely pair.

content includes: hotnerd!reader, studypartner!eren, athlete!eren, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, possessiveness, slow burn but not too slow, small bit of angst, dom!eren, fingering, a lot of penetration, cunnilingus, slight breeding kink.

"I've done a randomization on who will work with who on this project, so that conflicts will be less likely."

When your film teacher gave that disclaimer, your eyes instantly widened. You don't talk to anybody in this period anymore, and she was likely enforcing this because of you.

With the last project, you allowed a girl who you got along with in this class to work with you, but you found out that she was an inconsiderate freeloader, so yes you gave her a piece of your mind! Maybe you blew it out of proportion, but you couldn't see any wrong in it.

But now this was the outcome, and you were wishing you were calmer about it now. Your teacher went over to her laptop, and on the board, she showed the pairings.

Some people hit a 777, but meanwhile, you were thinking that this lottery was a scam, because how the hell did you get Eren Jaeger?!

You're a girl at the top of your class, most of your grades being in the triple digits and you had already accepted a full-ride scholarship to an prestigious college three hours out of the city. It's your senior year, and this was just one of your electives, but you liked this class, and you like to give everything your all.

So how could the stars have possibly aligned you with Eren? This pretty-boy athlete. You've had a few other classes with him in these 4 years, but never a conversation. You just recognized that his handsome face only pops up in these classes every once in a blue moon.

He was sitting on the opposite side of the room from you. Your head was leaning on your hand, and you glanced over to him from across the classroom. He always sat with his legs spread. Slutty and Obnoxious. He was sitting up straight in his chair with his arms crossed, and then you saw those dark hues of green in his eyes go to you. That's when you looked away, looking down at your phone as if something super interesting was going on in it.

People started to move around to go sit with their partners, so he took the liberty to come up to you. Huge feet made their way under your vision, so that's when you looked up from your phone. Looking through your rectangle frames, you saw his stoic face looking down at you, his hands in his pockets and his crotch uncomfortably near your face.

"Hey."

That deep voice is what you're gonna have to tolerate until the due date next week. But not if you could help it.

"Excuse me." You stood up and moved past him. You went over to Miss Sullivan's desk, and she slowly turned her head to acknowledge you after you said her name. She knew that it was always most likely to be bullshit coming out of your overachieving mouth.

"Yes?"

"Is it alright if I work alone?"

She glanced over to your desk, where Eren had pulled a chair up and sat on the side of it. Then, those judgy eyes moved back over to you. "Go sit down, Miss Johnson."

Your mouth fell open in offense, but you wiped your arrogant expression off. "Can I go use the bathroom, though?"

She picked up a pre-written pass and handed it to you between two fingers. You really did have to pee, and you also just needed a minute to cope.

When you got back, you guys — particularly you — spent the rest of that period organizing what to do with the project. He recognized that you just kept talking, and talking, and talking. He felt like his head was spinning.

"How do you even know so much stuff?"

The fact that he practically cut you off irritated you. "Hm?"

"Like, how could you pay attention to the movie this much? I fell asleep on it."

It was a crime-based movie. It kept you probed. You weren't surprised that he fell asleep though. "It was interesting."

You were a very pretty girl, makeup always on point and displaying personality, even though you had a mysterious aura surrounding you since you didn't talk to too many people here. You had a nose stud and a septum, and the blue evil eye charm layered over your other necklaces stood out. Your locs were platinum blond at the top and went to being hot pink at the bottom, and your bold hairstyles always struck you a compliment that you would smile and give a soft thanks to.

All of this, and no one would think you were such a nerd. Even with your cute glasses.

"Hm. Well, at least I'll see you in homeroom. Can we rewatch it in there?"

Eren Jaeger. Y/N Johnson. It's been four years that you've had to be in a homeroom with him because of how your last names are matched up. But still, to his response, all you could think of was Who is we? "Um..."

You had tightened your lips, but he needed them open so he could get an answer. "What's wrong?"

You scratched the back of your head, "You can't just research it on your own time?"

"You know so much about it though. It would be really helpful."

Was he trying to butter you up? You were really just trying to get this 100. "Uh-"

"Oh, bell rings in 5 minutes." He closed his Chromebook that he had barely been doing work on and put it in his bag. "I'll see you later."

He picked up his bag and walked back over to his seat, just as everyone else who had rearranged did under Miss Sullivan instructions.

You spent the next period dreading what was gonna be after it. Your homeroom took place in the theater. The drama teacher was your homeroom teacher, so after he would call roll, everyone would go to doing their own thing.

You took your usual seat at the end of a row, about 10 rows away from the stage with your bookbag in the seat next to you. Everyone else was usually spaced out, and there were small clusters of groups getting along in their own areas.

For example, the white boys would always banter on the stage, either playing with the props, doing something else foolish, or just laying there talking or on their phones.

Eren was always a part of this group, but after the roll was called today, he easily hopped off of the stage with those long legs of his and moseyed his way on over to you.

Instead of just saying excuse me like a regular human being, he walked over the seat in the row in front of your bookbag's seat, forcing you to look up from your phone at this bizarre act. When he completed that step, he moved your bookbag onto the floor and sat down.

"Hey."

You didn't say anything, just staring at him. He took the liberty to start again. "So, I left my Chromebook up there. Hope yours is charged."

You gave him a few slow blinks, and then you reached past his knee to unzip your bag and take the laptop out. Of course it was charged. You started typing into your browser, but he was confused. "What streaming service are we gonna watch it on?"

This was the third sentence he's said, and this one was gonna be the first to incite a response out of you...

Or was it? Why the fuck were you taking so long to open that overachieving mouth and give him an answer?

"I was just gonna try Soap2Day." Your voice was small and shy, even though he had a feeling you were far from shy. He just wanted to get it out of you, though.

"What's that?"

He saw the website you stated as you pulled it up on the computer, and you began typing in the name of the movie that was the subject of the presentation.

"Ohhh, you bootleg shit. Cool. I'm gonna use this."

When you pulled up the movie tab, there was porn on the side of the screen, and he held in a laugh as you rushed to put the videoplayer in full-screen.

Five minutes into the movie, he was engrossed, but you couldn't tell with how he made the move to put his arm around your shoulder. Even though you were shutting that shit down real quick, he savored the feeling of your soft hand on his when you grabbed him and gently put his arm back where it belonged.

"No?" He asked to confirm his rejection.

"No." You repeated.

He was actually interested in the movie, and he kept pausing it and asking you questions. "So you're telling me she pushed her friend off the bridge? Why?"

If he watched the first time, he would know why. But his entertainment was amusing. "Just keep watching."

About 30 minutes into watching, Eren was completely focused. Then, a certain buzzcut boy made his way down the walkway to you two. "Yo, Jaeger!"

Connie Springer. Don't know why the fuck he was in here, but he was here. You weren't complaining, though. His attractiveness was something you couldn't deny. Sexy ass Columbian basketball player with undeniable charm and a pretty ass smile. You had your head rested on your hand, watching him in adoration as Eren paused the movie to dap his homeboy up.

"What's up, Con. You skipping again?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was never even here, bro. What y'all over here doing, though?"

"We got paired together for a project in film, so I forced her to stay with me to watch the movie again."

Connie laughed. "Working with him hasn't killed you yet, huh Y/N?"

It's been four years that you've been around this man and you haven't had any significant interaction with him. So you grinned when you heard that he knew your name. "It's probably coming soon."

Eren gave a nasty sneer. He's been bending over backwards all day to try to get along with you, but how come you showed that pretty smile to Connie before you could show it to him?

"Whatever. Connie you don't have anywhere else you could be that doesn't involve bullying me?"

Connie's face showed shock to Eren's audacity, "I'm a bully? Tuh. Actually, my next stop is the snack lady, and I'ma go bully my way into a free honeybun."

He dapped Eren up one more time, "See you at practice." Directing a smile to you, he waved and began to walk away.

You thought it would be best to go straight back to the movie, and that's why you directed your hand towards the space bar, but Eren had something to offer. "You wanna go to the snack lady with me? I'm hungry."

"I have food." You moved your laptop off of your lap and onto his. Partially leaning over his knee again, you pulled a purple bag of sweet and salty flavored popcorn out of your bag.

Crazy. You had other things in your bag besides books. He put his hand out, but you just gave him a side eye and looked back at the computer, pressing play before putting a handful in your mouth.

He was looking at you in disbelief, and it was 30 seconds of his glare poking through the side of your head, but you continued to stoically watch the movie. That was until he smashed the space bar. You slowly turned your head to have your eyes on him.

"Why do you hate me? Seriously, have I done something to you that I don't remember, or what?"

Now you kind of felt bad. "You just seem like bad news."

"How? You don't even know me like that. And you're not even trying to get to know anything good about me. Meanwhile, I'm ready to tear my head off from tolerating your stingy ass all morning."

Your mouth fell open in offense. "If you wanna tear your head off, do it. I wanna do it since I'm paired with you. You just don't seem like the type to commit to an assignment the way that I do."

"Once again: You don't know me. And I gotta admit, you're probably right. I'm not as much of a nerd as you."

You showed offense to the term he used as if he wasn't accurate. "What? I don't mean it offensively. You're like, really smart. I just have a lot of other things to focus on. Sports are more fun than fuckass assignments to me, but I do try to get it done."

"Football season's been over." You stated. With this fact, sports couldn't have had him too busy.

But he was ready to disprove you. "I do baseball and track, too. Since you know every fucking thing."

Your mouth fell open. Maybe you did overstep. "Sorry then... What do you do in track?"

You didn't know anything about baseball, but track & field was interesting to watch. "Long jump, pole vault, long distance, and sprints."

He saw your eyes round with intrigue. "Are you any good?"

You saw the corner of his mouth pull up in a curve. "Come to my track meet tomorrow and find out."

Your glossy lips poked out in decision. "Hmm."

"Come on. After, I can take you back to my house and we can work on the project."

That's where you were out. "Umm, I don't even know you like that."

"Yeah, and that's the problem."

"My mom don't even know your mom or nothing."

"You're 18, right?" You nodded to his question. "And you still have to ask your mom to go places after school?"

He's made your mouth fall open so much in offense that you're surprised a bug hasn't flown in it. You picked up your phone and started typing.

you mama this boy asked me to hangout with him after school tomorrow.

mama dearest Thank God. 🙏

you ???

i don't even know him like that though.

mama dearest If you could tolerate talking to him long enough where he got to the point of asking you out, then get to know him like that.

you omg????

say no!!!!

mama dearest I'll say no to you asking me to say no. 🤷‍♀️

you mama?!!!

what if i'm out having sex doing drugs robbing cars?

mama dearest You a punk!!!

you PLEASE

mama dearest Live outside of academics for a minute please.

In fact, if you come home before sundown today I'm taking your keys away.

you i rode the bus today anyway!!! look in the driveway she broke down again hater 😪

Eren was looking all in your phone, laughing mad hard. "Our mom's funny as fuck, huh?"

You hit his obnoxious ass on his shoulder. "Shut up."

"So, where you wanna meet up after school?"

"Who said I was agreeing?"

"Don't go sit in a library until sundown like the nerd you are."

You pouted, "I was gonna go to Chick-Fil-A, actually."

"If you don't wanna tell me where you'll be at, that's fine. I'm gonna track you down though."

"You scaring me. This why I didn't wanna be around you."

His grinning teeth showed as he looked at you, "Not my fault you're doing this the hard way."

You rolled your eyes, "Meet me at 500 hall's exit 10 minutes after the bell, then."

"The one that goes out towards the bus ramp?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. You should give me your number, in case things get mixed up."

Your eyelashes went up, then down, and every time they did that, he would still be looking at you as serious as ever. Instead of letting those sassy lips say something that would piss him off, he just snatched your phone and swiped to the right of your lockscreen. You tried to reach for your phone back, but he was snapping pictures of him and you, even if it was chaotic as he posed and you hid your face and struggled.

"Boom. Now you got a nice selection for a contact picture. You gotta get my number first though."

"Not happening."

He nodded his head as if he was accepting defeat, but then he directed your phone towards your face with reflexes of a cheetah. "Too bad you're not smart enough to close your eyes." Now your phone was unlocked and you were practically at his mercy.

"What is wrong with you? Why are you going through my phone? What if you find something you don't wanna see?"

Your phone was Hello Kitty themed, and he had to make his way through the pink ocean to get to the phone app. "I'm just trying to put my number in your phone. I feel like in here I'll only find the cure to cancer, or a text from your boyfriend or something."

"Who told you I had a boyfriend?"

He shrugged, "I was just assuming. Smart, pretty, sassy as fuck. Somebody must be crawling after you."

He called you pretty? "...No, I don't fool with nobody like that."

Either you were bullshitting, or you saw him smirk a little as he heard that. He typed his contact name in as "bestieboo eren" with a plethora of hearts and outrageous emojis behind it.

"Eren, please."

"Don't change it, either."

Who did this white man think he was telling you what to do like this? "Or what?"

"Or I'll show you how it is when I'm really scaring someone." He handed your phone back to you, his green eyes staring into you with a layer of cockiness over his face. You took it while your gaze swirled into his. "Got it?"

This was the first time he got a smirk out of you, and your eyes narrowed as you answered him with, "Okay then."

You picked your laptop back up and woke it up from its nap of inactivity, and then you two resumed the movie. He laid his head on your shoulder like he was slick. You pushed his head away, but he laughed and kept his head near. "Come on, let me lay down. The computer's on your lap. It makes everything easier for me."

You just rolled your eyes and complied, and he laid down as he continued to watch, even eating some of the popcorn that you had a change of heart over.

During your last period, he texted you.

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 hi best friend

you please

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 already begging for me i knew it was real

you what the hell do you need?

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 sorry to interrupt you during ur very important class

but i just remembered

i have practice after school

so i can't meet up w you immediately

you thank goodness. 🙏🏾

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 tf you think this is

you're not getting away from me that easily bestie

you 😧

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 u could send me ur addy and i'll pick u up after i'm out

you absolutely not.

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 or u could wait for me here until i get out of practice

you BAHHAA ur hilarious.😭

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 i don't want u riding that dingy ass bus tho

just wait for me stink

you i am not tems no waiting will be done.

how about we dead this me going over to your house idea.

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 here u go again being negative

now i gotta go back to square one

you ?

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 tracking u tf down

you sir???

scary ass individual.

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 yeah ik where you are right now be prepared to see me

you be prepared to NOT see me tf. bye.

bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 no byes see u in 15 minutes

You were the first one to walk out your classroom door, so that means that everyone else behind you saw when you got snatched by your arm from the side of the door. Eren was your abductor. He was really serious about it, and now he had his hand on your lower back and a grip around your wrist as he led you away.

"Eren, let me go!" You didn't like causing a scene, but the halls were already crowded and loud with people as soon as the bell rang.

He didn't give you a response, but you could feel the amusement radiating off him. He dragged you to a hall that led to the office. People were still walking through it, but it was much clearer than the hall you two came from.

"What is wrong with you?!" You reprimanded as you snatched yourself away from his grasp.

"Hey. How's your day been without me?" With a smile on his face, he was acting so casual as if he didn't just manhandle you.

"Bye. My bus is first wave."

When you tried to walk away, he snatched your bookbag and easily pulled you back to him. "Let me get this off of you."

You must've softened up, because you allowed him to take your bag off of your shoulders. "How did you know where I was?"

"Your friend Ashyra was in my class. I don't know how she feels about me taking her best friend position, but she'll be okay."

You were instantly ready to beat your actual best friend's ass seeing as she reported your location to this opp. "Eren, I don't wanna stay after school. Why would I wanna be here any longer than I already am?"

"To stay with your best friend, duh."

Not a smile grazed your face as you tilted your head to the side. He tilted his back with sass to match your energy. No matter how bad you thought you could intimidate him, he was gonna double back.

"Whatever. I'll walk to the café across the street, since you want me here so bad."

"And do. If you wanna get something, I'll Venmo you."

"No, you don't have to do that."

"Well I don't have cash on me right now, so that's the only way this'll work."

"Well I kind of didn't ask for money anyway."

"Nevermind on Venmo, accept the Apple Pay I just sent you."

"White boy, stop treating me like a charity case."

"What? I'm not. You're changing your schedule and staying after school just because of me. This is the least I could do. It's just $15. Text me when you get over there, or I'ma blow up your phone, alright?"

You didn't respond, but you had a smirk on as you grabbed your bag back from him turned around. He grabbed your hand and spun you back, "You deaf? Text me when you get over there."

"Eren, okaaay. I will."

"Okay, can I get a hug?"

You laughed, "See you in an hour."

"Come on, I'm gonna get a hug out of you today. Would you rather it be now, or after practice when I'm all sweaty and gross?"

"Never-"

"Isn't an option. Come here, mama."

He knew that when you rolled your eyes, he got you. Usually you would roll your eyes or give him a smirk, one or the other, separate not together. This time he got both as he pulled you in, swinging you side to side as your arms wrapped around his firm and fit torso.

"Okay, I'll see you later, Eren."

"Yeah, see you later."

One thing you learned about Eren today is that he was gonna stand behind his words. He really did blow up your phone 15 minutes later! It took a five minute phone call for you to get him to shut up, and at 4:45, he called you again and told you he was driving over.

He found you sitting in a booth at the McDonald's. Your laptop was open in front of you but you were on your phone.

"You texting somebody that's not me?"

"Or me?"

Two separate voices that both know how to grind your gears. You looked up to see Eren sliding into the booth with your best friend Ashyra sliding in on the other side of him. "Not both of y'all here to torcher me."

"You finally met my favorite white boy! Didn't I tell you he cool people?"

"Yeah, but I been knew you was a liar, too, Shy."

Her mouth fell open, and then an order came out. "Eren, kick her."

You shrieked as you tried to avoid his gruesome, manly feet, but he got your ass. "Ow! I hate that y'all know each other. Y'all are gonna make my life hell."

"You know it. Did you get anything?"

"Nah."

Fed up with you, he rolled his eyes with a "Stand up."

Ashyra got up and allowed him to get up too, but you were still sitting there. "What?"

"What do you want? A cookie? Fries?"

"She has a sweet tooth. Can you get me a caramel frappe?"

"Bet."

"Shy." You called reprimandingly.

"What? He's offering, I'm taking. You smart, but that's something else you can learn."

Eren leaned down, his hand placed on the table. You didn't expect it, and that's why you were looking so directly at him when his face got closer to yours. "What do you want me to get you?"

His voice was so much calmer than it's been before, but it was still commanding. "Can you get me a cookie... and a McFlurry."

"Oreo?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. You wanna stand in line with us?"

"No, I'ma stay right here and pack my bag."

His face lifted from yours, and you allowed yourself to breathe again. "Okay."

For him to have been fresh out of practice, he didn't smell bad. It was a natural musk. Did he hit the showers before he came over here? You would hope so. You're gonna be in a whole car ride with him.

You were thinking all of this through as you put your laptop and binder in your bag, but then, you recognized. You were thinking. About a different person. A boy, at that. You tried to just abort from that, but your homegirl came over ready to put it back in your mind.

"So, you gon' fuck him?"

Chin propped up on her hands, her nosey ass had a cheesy grin on as she looked at you.

"Girl, no. What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you? You playin' hard to get with that fine ass boy. He cheesin' you up, paying for your stuff. Be nicer to him, please."

"I'm really just tryna get a good grade."

"Fuck a good grade. Get a D, for once."

Your mouth fell open, and you kicked her from under the table. Then, Eren came over, holding the frappe and an ice cream cone both in one hand, with four bags with individual cookies in the other hand. He put the cookies down in front of you, grabbing one bag and passing it to 'Shy, and keeping one for himself.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"Oop, my brother outside. I gotta go before he start honking." Shy said as she picked up her bags.

"Okay, I'll go say hi to him." When you got up, you tried to pick up your own bag, but Eren did that instead. You and Eren waved to Ashyra's brother as she got in his car that had music blasting out of it, and then he walked you to his dark grey Silverado.

In the car ride, you and Eren didn't talk much. His music just played, and if you knew a song, you would tap your foot and keep looking out the window as he hummed. He would speak, and you would respond, but you didn't initiate any of the conversations.

In a gated community is when you knew that the ride was coming closer to an end. Every house looked similar to the one next to it, and they all looked spacious and nice. Just like his. He pulled into one of the spots of his three car garage, and then he got out and opened the door for you. Even with holding his sports bag and his own bookbag, he still put in the effort to hold yours.

"Where's your parents?" You questioned, looking around the nicely decorated suburban home when you got inside. He took his shoes off by the door, and you followed.

"Dad's at work."

He was about to walk up the stairs, but you stayed right where you stood, "W-Wait. We're going to your bedroom?"

He sighed, and then he descended from the two stairs he walked up and went over to the dining room. He flicked the light switch up, but nothing changed in the scenery. "Last light bulb went out last night. He's going to get a new box after he gets off."

"Oh, what about your couch, though?"

"My room has a desk. I thought it would be in your nerd rulebook to have good posture when you work."

He saw you considering your dilemma as he walked closer to you. "You still scared of me, or what?"

His deep and husky voice intimidated you, but you wouldn't admit that. You didn't even wanna show it, so you straightened your posture and tried to show a brave face. "I'm not scared."

"Really? 'Cause you've been shaking like a leaf, tough girl."

He was towering over you, so he had a clear view of your two-toned lips falling apart in offense and your eyes narrowing. He laughed, "I'm kidding with you. We can work on the couch."

"No. We can go up to your room."

"Nah, better TV view. I gotta finish watching the movie, anyway." He put all the bags down behind the couch, and made way to the kitchen, "Get comfortable. You want snacks? I'm nicer than you, so I actually plan on sharing."

A scoff left your mouth, "Sure."

He was on one couch cushion, you were on the one next to him. A good amount of space was between you two, and he was still invested in this movie as he munched on some Sour Patch Kids.

Meanwhile, you were struggling to keep your head up and your eyes open. He gave you some chips, but the bag was tilting in your hands, going the same way that your head was going. Down.

It was when the chips started spilling that you jumped up, making even more chips fly out the bag. It made Eren jump too. "Shit, are you alright? You can't do stuff like that when we're watching a thriller."

You started picking the chips up, "Yeah, my bad."

"Oh, are you tired?" Eren paused the movie, and he put a hand out to stop you from picking up the chips, taking that task for his own. "Grab that pillow. Lay down if you're sleepy."

You shook your head, "No, I'm okay. Thank you, though."

He stopped moving, and you saw him looking at you with an unenthusiastic straight face. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"You know what I'm talking about." He said as he continued picking up the chips, "You wanna lay on me instead?"

You didn't respond, even though you wanted to say something. A hum, a one-word answer —anything would suffice. But you couldn't get anything out. He put the bag to the side of him when he finished cleaning up your mess, and then he put his arm around your shoulders. "Come on."

You were on auto-pilot, and you leaned into him, winding up with your head on his lap and his hand on your back, slowly rubbing it up and down. It was so soothing to hear his heartbeat as you dozed off, and when you woke back up, Eren was patting you on your back and calling your name softly.

"Yeah? Did you finish the movie?" Your hazy voice questioned as you sat up, moving your glasses to rub your eyes. You saw that the sun was barely lighting the sky anymore through the windows.

"I did. It pissed me off."

You grinned, "Yeah, it pissed me off too. But it was good though."

"Yeah, the ending was a really big plot twist." You and Eren continued to talk about the movie, until your mouth opened and nothing came out since the sound of the door opening paused you.

A matured man with round glasses, stubble, and his straight brown hair neatly running down his back came in. "What's up, Dad?" Eren called.

"Hey, Eren. How was your day?"

"It was nice."

Grisha walked through the foyer, and he saw you sitting next to his son when he entered the living room. You could see the shock on his face to the sight of an unexpected guest, but it subsided after a second. "You have a friend over?"

"Yeah, this is Y/N."

The smile you gave him was probably crooked with nerves, and you waved as you gave him a small, "Hi."

He gave you a tight-lipped smile as he waved back, "Nice to meet you."

He handed a drugstore bag with a box of lightbulbs in it to Eren. "Go ahead and put these in. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"I know." Eren replied as he put the bulbs to the side of him.

"Wow, you weren't lying."

"You thought I was?"

"Mmm, maybe just a little."

He scoffed out a laugh, "Yeah. I totally just turned a breaker off for the dining room just to not have to sit there with you."

You shrugged, "Doesn't even sound too extreme. It's smart, if anything."

You saw his teeth as he laughed at you, "Thanks. I'll use that next time you come over. Force your scary ass to come up to my room."

He stood up off the couch, and he grabbed you by your hands and pulled you up too. "How am I scary?"

"W-wait! W-we're going up to your— your b-bedroom?" He mocked as he walked over to the dining room.

"I did not sound like that. And it's valid! My first time coming over here and you want me in your bedroom."

"Okay. When should I wait until? Third time? Fourth?"

"How about never?"

Another cocky chuckle came from him, "Second it is, then."

"You wish."

"You're right." He opened the box as you stood and watched him as he stood on a chair, focused as he unscrewed one light bulb and put the next in, the room slowly filling with light as he repeated the process four times.

He got down and dusted his hands off on his pants. "You wanna work on the project now?"

"Okay, we can."

You two sat on the couch, barely an inch of space between you two as you sat on your knees, him having his laptop on his lap. "Do you think this Google Slides template is nice? I like it."

You looked at the one he recommended. "It doesn't fit what we're talking about."

"Yeah, but it's cute."

"Yeah, but the movie is about fraud, scheming, and murder. How cute is that?"

He shrugged, "Depends on who you're asking."

You rolled your eyes, "Let me see." You typed 'crime' in on the website's search bar, and immediately saw a few that you liked. "See? Isn't this one more accurate?"

His face was scary unenthusiastic as you looked at him. "I see why that girl fell out with you after y'all did that project together."

You didn't see where this was coming from. "What? Why?"

"Don't take all the fun out of this with trying to control everything."

Your eyebrows sink down a little bit. "It was just constructive criticism."

"Mmm, okay."

You didn't say anything else after that. He kind of made you feel bad with that line, but maybe he was right. You didn't like that it gave you something to think about, though.

A few minutes passed before Eren's dad came downstairs. "Eren. When you take her home, can you go pick up some food I just ordered?"

"Sure. What did you order?"

"Chinese."

"Bet. Y/N, you ready to go?"

You closed your own laptop, getting ready to put it in your bag. "Sure."

During the car ride, you were silent as he listened to his music. You knew the songs, but you didn't sing along with him. Not a hum or a tap of the foot.

"Come inside with me." He said when he pulled up to the restaurant.

"No, I'll stay out here."

He didn't respond, just tightening his lips as he turned off the engine and got out. Instead of walking into the restaurant, he walked over to your door, and you had to catch yourself as he opened it.

"I said come inside with me." He unbuckled your seatbelt and grabbed your hand, helping you down from the truck even though you seethed with frustration.

You let his hand go when you got down, but he grabbed you by your belt as you two crossed the parking lot. When a car was passing, he pulled you closer to him to make you stop.

"Stop handling me like I'm a ragdoll."

"So your silly ass can get hit? No. You'll be okay."

You had your arms crossed as you and Eren waited for the food. He walked closer to you, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

He knew that was bullshit. "You still tired? Is that why you wanted to stay in the car so bad?"

You shook your head, "I'm fine."

"You know why I couldn't leave you in the car. If I went back and someone had taken you or something I would have to burn the whole city down."

You almost cracked a smile, but he saw you try to keep it back. "Are you mad at me because I pulled you in the parking lot?"

You didn't answer as you looked up at him. "How would you think I would feel if I watched that Dodge Ram squish you like a pancake?"

"Order for Jaeger?" The waitress called. Eren thanked her and took the bag. Then, he grabbed your jacket again.

"To answer my own question, it would not feel good. But if you keep giving me an attitude, I'll be the one to push you in front of the next truck."

In the car, he opened his plate up excitedly. He picked up a fork and picked up some orange chicken, holding it towards you. "Here. Taste this."

Another shake of your head, "I don't want any."

"It's so good. Blow it, because I know you don't want me to do it."

It hovered in front of you for another few seconds before you started blowing it. Before you could put it in your mouth, Eren redirected towards himself and ate it. The obnoxious hums and moans that he exuded as he chewed on the food pissed you off. You sucked your teeth and leaned against the door, looking out the window.

"Okay, okay. I was just playing with you. Here. I'll get a different fork and actually give you a piece."

"No, I don't want it. Drive me home."

"Oou, fiesty again. You're probably just hangry. Eat this."

He held the fork out to you again, and this time you grabbed the fork out of his hand and ate it yourself. "It's good, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm." You answered as you kept chewing. You two ate a little bit more, before he closed the container and started driving you to your house.

When he pulled into your driveway, he got out the car first and opened the door for you, picking up your bookbag. He closed the door behind you when you got out, leaving you standing in front of him. You tried to grab your bookbag back, but he wouldn't give it to you.

"Tell me. What's really the matter?"

"I told you, Eren. Nothing's wrong."

"I'm not buying that. What is it? Did I do something? Again?"

You didn't say anything, only tilting your head to the side.

"It's because I told you about yourself with that project, isn't it?"

You sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just not good with group projects."

"Nah, from what I learned, you're good at just about everything. Everything but being nice to people."

Your lips poked out in a pout. "I'm trying my best, Eren."

"And I'm trying my best to get along with you too. So I'm sorry for hurting your feelings."

"It's fine. I could be less rude, I guess."

He chuckled, then handing you your bookbag. "I'm just asking you to try to get along with me more. If you do that, maybe you won't hate me when this is all over."

You took your bookbag with a grin, "Maybe I won't."

He walked you to your doorstep, and he gave you a nice hug before you walked inside. You were honestly cheesed up when you got through that door, but to see your birthgiver sitting right on the couch and looking at you made you freeze.

"Sit. I need to hear about this young colonizer."

When you got to film class the next day, you and Eren actually made a little bit of positive progress on the project, but you two did more talking than working. He spent most of the time making sure you would be at his track meet later that day.

And to the track meet you went. You walked in probably 3 events in, holding an icee that you bought from concessions in your hand as you walked over to your school's section.

You heard the aluminum stairs clanging with fast footsteps as you walked over, and you chuckled as you watched Ashyra speed down the steps towards you. "Y/N!"

She jumped on you in a hug, "Hey Shy. I told you I was coming."

"I didn't think you really meant it. Oh my gosh, the hermit really left her Hello Kitty room! I'm so proud!"

"Tch, girl." You began walking up the stairs, "When's your race?"

"I gotta go down there in like 5 minutes. I was 'bout ready to shit myself getting ready for this 200 but you popping out made me feel better."

You laughed, and as you walked up the steps, a handsome buzzcut boy called out your name and walked over to you from his row. "Hey pretty, what's up? I rarely see you come out and support."

He gave you a side hug, and it shocked you and flattered you altogether. "I come out sometimes to see Shy, but I usually leave after she's finished."

"You gonna stay the whole thing today?"

"Yeah, she will." A masculine voice that you've grown fond of called. You were looking for Eren as you walked up, but so many people came to see you before you could see him. So he came to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a hug. "You really came."

"I did. I didn't wanna find out what your annoying ass would do to me if I didn't." You told him as you hugged his torso in return.

He chuckled, "Come on. Sit with me."

He led you up the stairs, and you two were sitting in a row behind a bunch of a boys on the team. They would occasionally turn around and look at you both, and while Eren was talking to you, you couldn't even pay attention to him.

You beckoned him closer with your hand, and he brought his head closer to yours so you could whisper to him. "Why do your homeboys keep turning around and looking at us?"

"Why do you think they're looking at us?" He asked at a normal volume as he pulled away from you.

You shrugged, "I don't know. That's why I asked you."

He chuckled, "Probably just because I'm sitting with one of the prettiest girls in this school."

You tried to hide your incoming smirk by drinking from your icee. "What events do you have today?"

"Just long jump and pole vault today. 12'6 is the highest."

"Oh? Twelve feet is high."

"Yeah. You think I got it?"

You smirked, "You know I gotta see what you 'bout, first."

"Mmhmm, you'll see what I'm about."

"Why you not doing any running today?"

"I do not feel like doing any bullshit races. Pole vault is already not for the weak."

"Yeah, you got it, though."

He smiled, "Why you think so? You haven't even seen what I can do yet."

With him wearing his track uniform, his strong, muscular arms showed with the sleeveless shirt he wore. And these shorts were pretty tight. They gripped onto his strong thighs and something else that you liked to see.

You didn't even catch yourself looking him up and down. "No reason. Just predicting."

He clearly saw you checking him out, and it made him laugh. You were gonna ask him why he was laughing, but Ashyra came and gave you a hug, "Wish me luck! I'm about to go down to the field."

You turned around and gave her a full hug, wishing her the luck she asked for even though she didn't need it. Shy was the type of girl to tell the girls next to her at the line that she's nervous, and wish them luck. And then she hits a clean walkover into the blocks.

When that gun went off, Shy was gone. Just about everyone repping your school was stood at the front of the bleachers, leaning on the fence to cheer her on.

After they got past the curve, there was only one girl in front of her. The walk-down that Ashyra gave her probably made her feel wind as she flew by. The race felt like it went by so fast, because Shy made it past that finish line in what had to be a record.

When Shy came back up, she received daps and hugs from all over. Then she came up and sat by you as you sat alone. "Eren went to the field already?"

"Yeah, only like five minutes ago."

She looked through the field for him, and she pointed to him standing by a tent and stretching with some guy from a different school to the side of him who he was chatting with. "There he go right there. I bet I can tell you what his ass is saying right now."

"What?" You asked.

"Girl, he be going down there and telling the people he goes up against that he's new and it's his first year doing this. He is sick."

You laughed at that information, "Are you kidding? So he's good?"

"Bitch, he's great. He grunt like a bear when he run. That's how you know it's serious. Hold on, come close." She lowered her tone as she pointed towards a ginger boy who was sitting a few rows in front of you two. "You see him?"

"That's Floch, right? I can't stand his ass, and he kept turning around and looking at me and Eren."

"Girl, when Eren chooses not to do the 4-by-4, that leprechaun motherfucker right there is the reason we don't make the podium."

"Just taking up space." You were trying to make sure your laughs wouldn't be too loud, in case he would turn around and look at you again. But Ashyra didn't tone shit down, and he looked at y'all anyway.

That's when Shy cocked her neck at him. "Hello? Fuck are you looking at, Floch?"

He turned his ass back around, and you had to turn away as you laughed so hard that no sound came out of your throat until 20 seconds later.

When it got time for the pole vault, you, Shy, and many other people went up to the fence, leaning on it as you all watched Eren's event. When it was his turn, he did the 10' and the 10'6" like it wasn't there, only a few other guys struggling with that one. On his first 11'6", he knocked the pole down, and then he went clean over it on the next attempt.

Once it got higher you all could see that the first few guys who went for the 12' must've been having a bad day. Multiple knocked the pole down on their first attempt, then some doing better on the next attempts. One guy broke the bar and his pole in his attempts. The guy who went right before Eren was pretty good, barely grazing the pole when he went over it on the 12'.

When it got to the 12', Eren was doing high knee stretches before he picked up his pole. On the first attempt, he knocked the pole down, and when he was on the mat, you all could see him cursing as he stood back up.

"You got it, Eren!" A girl who was standing on the other side of you yelled. Others clapped and cheered him on too, but you stayed quiet and just clapped.

With his second attempt, everybody could just feel inside of them that it was gonna be better. Connie was standing to the side of the pole vault lane, watching up close as he and others waited for the men's 4-by-4, and he dapped him up and cheered him on.

As he ran with the pole, his form was absolutely beautiful, being completely upside-down when the pole was at it's straightest height, then not even touching the bar when he went over it.

Everyone watching this who was repping the school was clapping and cheering him on, and him and Connie dapped each other up again and again, so hard their hands were probably stinging when they finished.

"Do that shit again, Eren!" Shy shouted.

Now it was the 12'6". The last one and the highest one. You all saw Eren take a deep breath before he started running. His strides were clean and long, and he repeated the same thing that he did on his last attempt. Same lovely form, just going a necessary 9 inches higher.

Everyone was hype, clapping, and cheering after seeing Eren clear out his first attempt on the highest one like that. Your cheeks were hurting from how hard you were smiling as Shy shook you by your shoulders.

In the next 15 minutes, he was at long jump.  If you listened close enough, you could hear Eren's grunts as he ran. He made it look easy, going so damn far when he jumped that people who weren't even repping your school were paying attention as his feet landed only around a foot away from the end of the pit.

"EREN THAT'S A RECORD! THAT'S A FUCKING RECORD!" Eren instantly jumped up from the sand pit, hype as fuck and matching Connie's energy. Your school section was too gassed at Eren eating this meet the hell up.

"He gotta have a lil' nigga in him." Shy said.

"I'm saying!" You proclaimed. Connie was pushing limits staying and watching Eren's events so long like he wasn't the first leg in the 4-by-4 that was about to start very soon. He had to dash to the line and catch his breath with the time he had, but when the gun shot, he was out of those blocks like that gun was being shot straight at him.

"You better run like they coming to send you back to South America, Con!" Shy yelled, and that's exactly what he did. He got around the track before all the other guys, and the hand-off with Floch could've been better, but it wasn't terrible. Floch was in fourth when he got around the second curve, but he was able to walk one guy down by the next hand-off.

"Okay, leprechaun didn't do terrible." Ashyra commented. The guy who ran the third leg got your school back to second, by the fourth leg, this tall boy who you knew to be called Berthdolt was going stride for stride with a guy from another school.

"RUN LIKE A NIGGA FINNA SHOOT YOU IN YOUR FOOT, BERT!" The whole crowd was loud as everybody cheered for their school. You knew that Berthdolt was quiet, but when it came to sports, he would be locked the fuck in. And that's why with the last 100 meters, he absolutely dusted the guy who he was running against.

That 400 knocks motherfuckers out. After Berthdolt got past the line, he fell off to the side and laid down on the grass next to where Connie had been since he finished his lap. Your section stayed lit way after the race was over, and a bunch of the runners stayed sprawled out way after the race was over.

"Are those niggas ever gonna get up?" You questioned, seeing Eren squirt water into his teammates' mouths from the second bottle he's had to bring.

"Girl, you don't understand the pain."

When all those boys finally did get up and come back to the bleachers, they were receiving daps and congratulations from all over. You and Shy were sitting back down, and it took so long for Eren to get from the bottom of the steps to where you guys were.

"Good job, best!" Shy said as she dapped him up.

"Thank you, thank you."

"Good job, Eren." You'd been waiting for him to get up to you for so long. For some reason you wanted to say more, but that was the only thing that would make sense at the time.

While he was down there, he had put some sweatpants on. He looked calm and tired as he looked at you, and you were surprised as he pulled you up by your arm and embraced you in a big bear hug, balancing his weight out on you.

Your giggles warmed his heart, "Eren, you're too heavy for this!"

"Just let it happen." He said as he rocked you back and forth, feeling your arms wrap around his torso.

When he let you go, he reached into his sports bag and grabbed some money. "Shy, you want anything from concessions?"

"Can you get me a pickle?"

"Okay. Come on, Y/N."

He walked down the stairs with you, and Connie said, "He's taking our good luck charm away, y'all."

You chuckled in flattery as he said that, but Eren kept looking forward. "You know Connie's feeling you, right?" He told you as you both walked to concessions.

"Yeah I can tell. But I also know another guy who's feeling me too." You teased.

"Really? What's this one like?"

"Well, he's a little annoying. But I found out today that he's really good on the field."

Eren chuckled as you two stood in line, "What do you wanna get?"

"Umm, some nachos."

"Okay. Do you get yours with jalapeños on them?"

"No, not usually."

"Oh. Loser."

You hit him on his arm, "Stop it."

"I'm kidding. I'll get my own, since you don't know what life is about."

"Yeah. I wasn't gonna let your hungry ass share with me anyway."

He scoffed, "Why?"

"Because, after all the events you just did? That tray would be more yours than mine."

"Yeah, I showed you what I'm about. How you feel now?"

"I already told you you did a good job, Eren."

"That's not enough. Were you cheering for me?"

"Well, I was definitely clapping."

"I know you hear all the fangirls I have in those stands. How you gonna outdo them?"

"I'm not your fangirl, Eren."

He was very close to you, and you liked the way he looked at you from above. "What do you wanna be to me, then?"

You didn't say anything, and he saw your shock as your mouth fell open. The lady at the counter called out "Next!" It pulled you two out of your moment, and you two moved up in the line and Eren gave the woman your order.

"Okay. The nachos will be ready in a minute." You and Eren stood off to the side to wait, him holding Shy's pickle, and then a matured but fit man walked up and acknowledged him.

"Jaeger, right?"

You and him both shared some skepticism. "Who's asking?"

The man chuckled, "A guy who's glad he came to this meet today. Look, I'm a recruit from Harvard. The name's Dean Washington."

Eren's eyes widened and he firmly shook the man's hand. "Oh, yeah. I'm Eren Jaeger. Nice to meet you."

"I can't believe this. I mean, we've had our eyes on you since your sophomore year. A tri-athlete that gets better every time he hits any field, and today you broke two of your school's records."

"Wait, I broke a pole vault record too?"

"Hell yeah! You're a force, and you'll definitely hear from Harvard soon. Here, take my card."

Eren took the business card that the recruit handed to him, and with a few more polite exchanges and another handshake, the man was on his way.

"Okay, big shot. Is that the first scholarship you've been offered?"

"Nah. The one's I've been considering have been the full-rides from LSU and Notre Dame."

Your eyes were the size of golf balls, "And those aren't the only ones?"

"No. The other ones haven't pulled me enough. LSU's been begging."

"Well that's a good pick for football."

"Yeah, you're right. But Harvard? This is crazy." He said, picking up his tray of nacho's from the concession counter.

"It gives you a lot to think about." You two began walking back to the seats.

"You're smart. Have you gotten any scholarship offers?"

"Well I've taken a lot of merit scholarships, but I did get a full ride that's gonna take me to a nice tech school."

"Where?"

"Umm, MIT." The only reason you sounded shaky when giving him this answer his because this school was in the same city as Harvard.

He smiled, as you expected him to. "Well that's gonna make me consider Harvard more. You still don't wanna be my fangirl?"

You stopped walking, and he turned around and stopped with you. You looked him in his eyes when you said, "You're the best, Eren."

He held his smile back while he poked his tongue through his cheek, staring at you for a while and looking you in your sultry, adoring eyes. His eyes traveled your body up and down, before he grabbed your free hand and said "Come on."

You two got back up to Shy, and you guys ate your snacks, bantered with each other and others who came over, and watched the remaining races. When it was time for awards to be given at the end of the track meet, Eren and Shy just told you to come down to the field with them.

"The highest score comes from the phenomenal Paradis High! Both of today's MVP's come from this team as well. Ashyra Ross for her performance in the 100 meters, 200 meters, and 4-by-1 races, and Eren Jaeger who broke two of his school's records in long jump and pole vaulting." A commentator announced over the speakers.

Everyone who was still here was clapping as Eren and Shy went up and got their medals, taking the picture that represented the school.

Your mom was the one who dropped you off today, and when you told him that, he took the liberty of commanding you to let him drive you home. "But before that, we're going out to eat."

"Oh, so we're not gonna go over to your house and work on the project anymore?"

"Hell no. We're gonna go to Chipotle and fuck up burritos. Shit, I could eat a quesadilla too."

The next day came, and Eren didn't seem too ecstatic at school for him to have been one of the most-valued D-1 athletes walking through this campus. He didn't seem necessarily sad, but he wasn't smiling as much or being as annoying during film. And he was actually working at some minutes, and then the next minute you would find him with his head in the clouds. You didn't say anything about it, but during homeroom, you called it out.

"Eren, are you good?"

He was on his phone but just staring at it before you said something, and your voice calling his name seemed to pull him out of his trance. "Y-Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, you just seem like you're in your own world. You sure everything's alright?"

He hesitated, but then he answered with, "I'm fine, Y/N. Thanks for asking, though."

You weren't sure he was being complete with you, but you didn't wanna push it. "Okay."

Thursday came, and you didn't see him pop up in first period.

you wya?

mvp sorry i'm busy today

you wow

day before due date too?

mvp you can still come over to my house later tho if it's that serious

you fine then

Your mom pulled off once he let you inside the house. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweat shorts, and his hair was out of it's usual bun, those brown tresses of his grazing his shoulders.

"We're working in my room today."

"Why? The couch has been fine."

"I'm not working on shit if I'm not in my bed."

With proper study skills being considered, that didn't make sense to you, but you didn't wanna question him. His room wasn't bad. It was spacious, and there was a bunch of stylish art, memorable photos, & decor on his dark grey walls. But it was still the room of a teenage boy, so you couldn't help but recognize the unmade bed and the junk food wrappers & empty dishes that were around and on his bed.

"So, where were you today?" You asked him as you opened your laptop while sitting at his desk, him comfy under the blankets of his mattress with his laptop open on his lap.

"I told you. I was busy."

"That's not what I- Nevermind."

About half of a minute passed before he gave you a proper answer. "I was at a dinner."

"Wow. I was listening to Miss Sullivan run her mouth and you were dining away."

"Yeah, lucky me then." His voice was drained of any warmth, and you just decided that it would be best for you to not talk to him unless necessary today.

About 20 minutes passed before you two shared any words. Then, you broke the silence. "When are you gonna add pictures to your slides?"

Looking through the slides, they were good and accurate, proper spelling and capitalization too. That's something you could appreciate in a partner, but the issue with the pictures was the only one you had.

"I'm gonna do it soon."

"Well... Can you do it now? So we can be done."

He sighed, "You're doing it again."

"Doing what, Eren?"

"That control freak in you is coming out." He answered, still nonchalantly scrolling through his phone.

"Well if being a control freak might get you to act like you care then I'll be that."

"It's just like five pictures."

"Exactly. It's just like five pictures. Quick and easy."

"Exactly. That's why you can wait."

"Do you want me to do it for you? Because I'm fine with that since you seem to be in such a bad mood."

"I'll do the goddamn work. Fuck. Just be quiet."

You turned around completely in the chair, "Who the fuck are you talking to? You invited me over here."

"Yeah. We can both probably see why I'm regretting that today."

Your laptop was loud when you slammed it shut, not wasting any time to put it in your bookbag. "Right. So I'll be downstairs waiting for my ride, since you wanna talk to me like you weren't raised right."

"Fuck did you just say to me?" Eren closed his laptop too, moving his comforter and getting out of his bed.

"You wanna talk to me like that, talk to your fucking mama like that, hoe." You would tell that line to any person who got out of line with you, but this seemed to push a button of his.

It took only a few long strides for him to beat you to the door. You had swung your bag over your shoulder, and as you were opening his bedroom door to leave, he was slamming it shut with one hand as he looked down on you.

"My mom's fucking dead, Y/N."

His voice was deep and husky, but it also shook when he said that. Your hard exterior instantly softened, "Eren..."

He took a shuddering breath, and then he turned around and slowly began walking back to his bed. "Why do you think I wasn't there today? I was at a damn memorial dinner."

You put your bag back down, "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." He sat down on his bed, legs spread and arms hung to the sides of them, "You can go now."

You approached him slowly with ease. Sitting down by him on his comfortable mattress, the touch of your hand on him lightened his temper. You ran your hand through his hair, showing his face to you more.

"You're sad. Why would you make time for me if you're feeling like this today?"

"I've been sad for a while. Nothing new."

Your hand traveled down to the back of his neck, rubbing his nape soothingly. "What's wrong today, then?"

He took a second, and then he ran his own hand through his hair before he answered you. "Today makes seven years. It's just different."

"I'm sorry, again."

"No reason to be. You're not Lupus."

"I was giving you a hard time. That's why I'm sorry."

You just wanted to be there for him, especially after being so rude earlier. He turned to look at you, and his eyes were glossy and flooded, and that made your eyes fill up with tears too.

Sad boy or not, he was still strong as hell. So when he wrapped his arm around your torso and pulled you in for a hug, your whole body shifted over to him, and you straddled his lap to be comfortable.

"It's okay. It's your thing to give me a hard time."

You kept running your nails through his hair, and he adored the feeling. He stayed with his face buried in your chest, loving the feeling, loving the smell, loving the care, loving the comfort.

He lifted his face up, his chin nuzzled in your chest as he looked up at you. "I did really good at the track meet the other day."

You saw the damp tracks of his salty tears spread under his eyes. You placed both hands on the sides of his face, "You did."

"Guess who else reached out."

You tilted your head, softly asking, "Who?"

"UCLA."

"Oh. Another D-1?"

A meek close-lipped grin showed as he nodded. You used each thumb to wipe his tears. "I told you you're the best."

He gave you a real grin this time, then laying the side of his face on your chest. "She can't see it, though."

You began rubbing his head again. "You think she's not watching you?"

"I want her to be there watching me. I wish she could— I just—"

You quietly shushed him, holding him close. "She would be proud of you, baby."

He looked up at you. "You think so?"

"I know so... If it helps, I'm proud of you."

His lips were slightly parted as he looked at you, and then he was only looking at your lips. The next thing he knew, his lips were on yours. Slow, soft. He didn't wanna stop. He couldn't be off of you.

He was so gentle, just as you were with him. Your body curved into his, and his hand trailed under your hoodie, slowly running his palm up the middle of your back and keeping you close to him while you subconsciously grinded down on him.

When he pulled his lips away, his hand was unbuckling your bra as you felt him growing under you. "Eren."

His lips were occupied kissing your neck, but he put in the effort to answer you. "What?"

"Are you sure this is what you need right now?"

"I'm sure that what I need right now is you."

He kissed your lips again, and a string of saliva connected between your lips and his when he pulled away. Picking you up so easy, he changed your positions, you being laid on your back as he hovered over you now. "Can I have you?"

"Are you gonna even take no for an answer?"

He smirked, and then he shook his head no.

"Then you already got me, baby."

Your hoodie was off. His hoodie was off. His shorts were getting pulled down. Your jeans were on the floor. The door was locked. His hair was tied up. Your glasses were on the nightstand.

All you saw was his chiseled abs, his defined V-line, and that huge print showing through his briefs, and all he saw was your pretty half-naked self laying on his sheets under him.

You lifted your arms up so he could take your bra off, and then your pretty tits jiggled as they laid out under him. He whispered a curse as he threw your bra to the side. He leaned down and kissed your neck, and you felt shivers trickle up your thighs as his fingers met the sensations in the middle.

"You came here wearing a matching set for me." He grazed his fingers past the pink lace that made the panties of this matching set.

"I didn't think this was gonna happen." Every word coming from your overachieving mouth would be soft and shy, shyer than he knew you to be. He liked that he made you get like this as your pussy twitched under his fingers.

"Mmm, you were ready for me though." He slid your panties to the side, and your back arched off the bed when he drove his fingers in you. You let out a shriek that would've been a moan if you didn't hold back.

It sounded like ocean sounds were playing as he filled you up with his two digits, pulling them out, then jutting them back in again and again. His lips were wrapped around your chocolate areola, his tongue swirling around it like the delectable desert that it was to him.

Your back was arching off the bed, and he just kept hitting a spot deep inside that would turn your moans into whines. He looked up into your eyes from where he lay, and you were looking down at his hand going in and out of you at a dangerous speed. He pulled his mouth away and hovered over your face, and he began guiding you through your high.

"Like that, baby?"

"Yeah, like that."

"You look so damn pretty. So pretty when you're cumming on my fucking fingers."

You wrapped an arm around his neck, holding onto him tight and your back hovering off the bed as he hit that spot again, and again, and one more time before—

"Fuck! Eren!" You flooded his fingers and his wrist, and your hips kept grinding onto his hand as you rode out your high.

"That's it, pretty girl. Keep cumming for me."

When he pulled his hand out, you fell down onto the mattress. Your legs instantly closed, just like your eyelids as you caught your breath with the back of your forehead. He kissed your jawline and rubbed his hand up and down your body, taking your panties off then bringing his kisses down low and reopening your legs, kissing on the warm wetness of your clit.

"Eren." You cooed, and you called his name again but more hastily when he slid a broad lick across your sensitive slit.

He changed positions but left you where you were, now propped up in between your legs and his hands reopening them. He pulled you by your thighs closer to him, leaning to the side to reach in his nightstand and pull out a condom.

Your fat pussy was pressed up against his thick, clothed bulge. He whipped it out, and your shock was evident when seeing his long dick out of the clothes. "Oh."

He laid it on you as he unwrapped the condom, and the tip went all the way to your belly button. "You okay?"

You sat up partially to get a better view of this monster that he was planning on putting inside of you. "Y-Yeah."

He breathed out a laugh at your nerves, sliding the rubber onto his hard length. "You think you got it?"

"Umm, we'll see."

He aligned his tip with your hole, slapping it on your clit a few times. You and him both watched as he began to slowly push inside of you, until you couldn't watch anymore. Your eyes filled with tears and you had to squeeze them shut as you cursed.

"Fuck, are you a virgin? You're tight as hell."

"No, you're just big!"

You could cry and whine all you wanted. Unless you said something, he was gonna do his best to fit his thick cock in your tight hole. He grabbed the ankle of one of your legs that were thrown over his shoulder, rubbing it and pecking it with kisses as he slid inside of you.

"Relax, mama. I need this pussy to stop squeezing me so tight."

You had your toes curled and one hand gripping his sheets, the other holding your breast like it was a stress ball. When he kept pushing inch after inch in, you let your head fall back on the sheets. You hadn't fucked in a while. It hurt, but it hurt so good.

"There you go, gorgeous. I know you can take me." It wasn't all of him. There was about an inch of his shaft that couldn't go in anymore, but his tip was pressed in as deep as it could go.

You let out the cutest, shuddering moan when he started thrusting slowly in and out of you. Everytime that he would go in, he could see the imprint of his dick poking through the pudge of your stomach.

You were leaving a creamy layer of your juices on the condom as he fucked your sweet hole, "All this 's for me, right baby?"

"Yesss. It's all yours."

He held your face in his hand, "Open those pretty eyes and look at me."

You did as he said, caressing his hand with yours and leaning into him. Looking into his green eyes so innocently, yet he knew you were far from that by the way you were taking him. You were so smart. Smart enough to recognize that when you moaned the way that you did, needily called his name the way you did, grinded your hips onto his cock the way you did, that you had him wrapped around your finger.

Your lips parted more as he jutted his hips in deep. A guttural moan from your throat came out as he hit your spot purposely rougher this time. You couldn't help it, especially with the way that he looked so sexy when he looked down at you like this. His thick brows were furrowed, hanging over desiring dark eyes that were hazy with lust. His skin was damp with sweat. His soft lips were hanging open, letting his groans out as your pussy milked him.

"Eren, come closer baby. I need to feel you." You were spiraling with passion, and he was entwining in pleasure from finally satisfying his craving that was you. He leaned down and kissed you, enjoying how sloppy and erotic it was.

"You wanna feel me even more than you already are?"

"I needed..."

Your hand was roaming, holding him close by rubbing at his nape. "Your skin..."

Then his shoulder, "I wanted it on me." then his arm, squeezing him tight with your nails digging into his arm.

"Shit." The low growl that came from him as you left your marks made your whole body shiver. You just repeated the coo of the word "Baby" over and over again, the speed of it mounting as he kept going.

"I know, ma. I know. I'm... Close... Too."

You came first, you releasing a high-pitched moan with your juices that wet him up as his thrusts got more sporadic, yet still giving all his force.

"Ah, fuck." You felt his breath on your face as he pushed out his last few movements of his hips. You both were breathing gently on each other, him holding your face in his hand while you ran your hands through his hair, giving each other wet, soft kisses on each other's lips.

When he lifted up, the condom was filled with a fat heap of his nut before he pulled it off, tying it up and taking a tired walk to the trash can to throw it away.

You were still laying down when he got back over, just propped up on your elbows as you watched him.

He stood in front of you, rubbing your legs. "Were you just looking at my ass?"

You were feeling extremely relaxed, and your laugh represented that. "I was looking at everything, baby."

Even the fresh scars you left on his shoulders and arms. The way his body flexed with every movement, a different muscle being highlighted with every step. His sexy mannerisms, like the way he walked, the way he ran his hands through his hair, or the way he would look back at you. Damn. He was so fine for you.

And he was looking at everything you did. Your eyes were on his, so they were watching as he trailed down your body, looking at your full breasts, the texture of your warm brown skin, and the way that your plump ass still was visible even while you were laid down like this.

"You're so damn sexy."

"Mmm." You lifted up, running your hands up his chiseled body until they got to his pecks, "Let me hear that again."

He chuckled, "You're a slut, too. How did I not know that?"

Craning down, he pecked your smirking lips. "Yeah, I wanna hear that again too."

He bagged not just a beautiful genius, but a perfectly lewd freak. He held you by the back of your neck to give you another sweet kiss.

"Do you think your dad heard us?"

"Hmm, if so, it's a hard day. I'm sure he'll understand."

You grinned as you looked up at him, and he did the same as he towered down on you. You both could tell what was going on behind each other's eyes.

"Do you have any more condoms?"

Laid on your side. He would slow it down then speed it up, harassing that pussy like it wronged his whole bloodline. One hand was under your bent knees, and the other hand traveled from your ass to your neck, gripping your throat and holding you steady when he filled you up with the length of his cock.

You were wise, but you learned more and more everyday. Something you observed from Eren is that he's a feen for a fat ass. That's why the third condom you two were on broke when he was hitting it from the back.

And something that he learned about you was that you craved the feeling of his touch and his warm skin on your own. So when he slowed his pace down with the next trial from the back, he pulled you by your neck closer to him, your back centimeters away from his chest in this steamy room as he caressed your breasts and kissed your shoulders.

And when you slutted him out while riding? He was trying to match your energy first, bucking his hips up while you were slamming yours down. The headboard was rocking into the wall so much that one time it might've been his dad knocking on the door to make sure you two were okay.

He couldn't hear that though, especially over your moans and his combining in harmony. His moans were dragging out of him, exhausted rambles leaving his mouth as he held you close, his face rubbing against your titties as you went up and down on him, leaving a creamy mess between you two.

The last nut from the night didn't need a condom. You were hovered over his face, but then he just pulled you down and put that tongue to work as he jerked himself off, receiving help from you when you could move your body accordingly to your mind, which was almost broken with the persistence of Eren eating you out.

He kept going on for what was probably a whole hour. You weren't sure. He just said that you weren't moving until he was done eating, but when he freed you from his hold, you laid your ass down.

You woke up in a haze in this dark room, a ringing sound filling your ears. Eren was laid on your ass like it was a cushion, and you could hear his soft snoring.

"Fuck, what time is it?"

You had to put your glasses on, and you saw that his digital clock read 1:37. Your phone was ringing, and it was your mom.

"Shit, shit, shit."

Eren was waking up, but his head plopped onto the mattress when you — his human pillow — hastily moved.

"Hey baby. You alright? I've been calling you, it's late."

"Y-Yeah. I'm sorry mama. I just fell asleep." Eren tapped back into consciousness when you turned his lamp on as you talked on the phone and hastily tried to collect your clothes at the same time.

"It's okay if you were doing unspeakable things, honey. As long as you were being responsible."

You sighed, "I love you, mom. Thank you for being chill."

"Yeah, I'm chill, but I'm still a worried mother. I'm parked outside of his house. Get down here, because I'm not letting you go to school in the same clothes two days in a row or a boy's. Bye."

She hung up the phone, so you put it down as you kept getting changed. He rubbed his eyes and sat up on the bed and watched you.

"That's my sock."

You cursed, almost having a white and a black sock on.

"The hoodie's inside out."

You sighed, pulling it off and reversing it.

He got up and put his briefs on, covering his dick up in time to catch your next mistake.

"Jeans on and no panties? Fuck, just stop moving. Calm down."

He helped you get your jeans back off, picking up your panties and allowing you to step into them. Then he helped you jump into your jeans, slapping your ass when you finished that task.

"Stop." You slapped his hand away from your butt.

"Uptight again like you weren't about to break my dick off like three, four hours ago. Okay."

"Quit it." You slid into your crocs and picked up your bag, "Okay, I'll finish the last few details of the slideshow. I'll see you tomorrow— I mean, today, okay?"

"Mmhmm." Despite this tired response that you expected to be the end of the interaction, he grabbed you by your hood and spun you back around, planting a warm kiss on your lips that almost paused all of your panic.

And when you pulled away, it almost came back, until he started talking. "I'll finish the slideshow right now, okay? Go home and lay down, you overachiever."

You breathed in through your nose, "Okay. Make it look pretty, alright?"

"I will, baby."

One more kiss, before you turned around and walked out of the door.

"See you later." He told you.

"Yeah, see you later, love."

You tried to get downstairs quietly, not sure if Mr. Grisha would be down there or not. When you thought you were in the clear, you were proved wrong.

"Have a nice night, Y/N." He was sitting in a living chair, and you couldn't tell how you didn't see him. He shot you a warm smile as he looked up from the book he was reading, and the one you gave him back was probably crooked.

"You too, Mr. J."

You cursed at yourself in your head as you turned away from him and rushed your way out.

In the morning, Eren did most of the presenting since you were the main worker. The presentation was actually fun. Eren kept comically teasing you, but you weren't opposed to it. It actually surprised the people in your class when seeing you smile.

When walking out of the class, Eren held your hand and spun you around for the direction he was walking in. "You told me you have Miss Russé next. She'll be okay if you're a few minutes late."

You grinned and chuckled, "Where you taking me?"

"Just somewhere where I can talk to you." He led you through the front exit passing by the office, just so you two could sit at the empty benches that are out there.

"Do you know how tempted I was to slap your ass when you were sitting back down?"

"Still severely horny, huh?"

Grabbing your jean pocket, he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, "After last night? Of course I am."

He placed his hand on your jaw as he locked his lips with yours, him leading the kiss. When he pulled away, you had your hands on his chest, "Yeah, I actually wanted to talk about that."

His head tilted, eyes narrowing too, "Yeah?"

"Um, I think— I think it was us getting carried away."

The look on his face wasn't neutral, although others might think that if not knowing the context. But you saw his jaw clench as he swallowed, and his eyebrows slowly furrowing over his darkening green eyes.

"I was in between your legs like, what, nine  hours ago. And now you think it was a mistake?"

"No, no. Not a mistake. I just looked back on it and I was thinking, maybe sex wasn't what you needed at the time."

The way he was looking at you made you feel so small. "Did I not make you feel good? Be honest."

"No, that's not it. You made me feel great."

"I could tell. So what the fuck is the problem?"

"Eren, you heard me. You were very sad and then we just had sex like that fixed everything. That's what's not making me feel good."

He stood up, and at this point you felt like you were buried into the ground, your head being the only thing above the surface so you could look at him. "Why the fuck are you doing this to me?"

"Eren, I'm not doing this to you. I was just saying it! I still adore you."

"Really? I can't tell." He picked his bag up and walked away from you, but not into the building. He walked out into the parking lot, and you walked back in the building before you could see where he was off too.

You didn't cry. No. You just felt like you were crying inside though. This was weird. You haven't thought about boys like this in forever. Then all of a sudden, one charms you on a Monday, and by the end of the week he's rearranged your guts.

At homeroom, you didn't see him. There was a possibility he was just going in his car to cool off earlier, and then there was the possibility that he drove home. He did the latter, and you were kind of relieved. Him ignoring you while being in the same room as you would've made you want to bury yourself in a hole.

Then the day went on. You got home, and you still wanted to sink into the ground. Not because of the reason from earlier. It changed into something else. You were craving him. You didn't care how awkward it would be, or how mad he could get, or how much he would yell at you. You wanted your body on his. You wanted to be around him. You wanted to be laughing with him, cumming with him.

You were obsessed with little shame about it, and that's why he got multiple rings on his doorbell and knocks on his from door at 7 in the evening.

"Wow. You came to see your mistake."

You were wearing another one of your hoodies, and this time a patterned pair of flair pants. Your slides were plush. Probably not the best choice for the rain that was just starting. But you still looked cute to Eren, and that made him even more frustrated.

"I never said that." Your pleading voice was so cute, and he was trying to make sure his dick wouldn't get hard as he looked at your doe brown eyes looking at him.

"Tch, come inside before it starts pouring."

You walked inside, turning around to face him once he closed and locked the door behind him. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black tank top. He had his hands in his pockets, and before looking at his face, you were looking at his toned muscles and the print showing through his pants.

You were looking at him, and he was looking at you. You saw his Adam's Apple bob as he took a deep breath and got ready to talk. "Well, you drove your raggedy ass car to come see me. What do you have to say?"

You were standing with your hands behind your back, and a courage-building inhale preluded your sentence. "I'm sorry. I do mean what I said, but the delivery could've been better. Especially since it made you think that I don't want you, and I do want you. A lot. I was just thinking about it, and I don't regret what we did at all, but what led to it is what I was thinking about.

"But we can't change what was done. And I don't wanna change what was done, at all. I would sound like a hypocrite if I let on that I did, because a lot of the things that I said last night wouldn't elude that. Like when I said you're the best, I meant that. I mean, you're the best I've had, considering I've only had one other perso— Can you accept my apology already?"

He was smiling at you so hard that his cheeks were hurting. "C'mere."

You took the embrace that he was offering, him rocking you side to side as he laughed. You wanted your hands wrapped around him like this as long as possible, along with the feeling of him rocking you back and forth.

"Who was this other guy you fucked?" He asked you in the hug.

You lifted your face from his chest and looked up at him. "You in my business right now?"

"Yeah. You owe me."

"Why?"

"Because, I didn't say I accepted your apology. After how you made me feel earlier, I deserve something generous from you."

"Really?"

"Really." His hands went down to your ass, and you loved the way he touched on you, rubbing and massaging it. "Answer the question. Who took your virginity?"

"It was my boyfriend from sophomore year."

"Oh, yeah. I used to see you walking around with him. He's a loser."

Your mouth fell open, "Eren, be nice. He wasn't bad."

"Mmhmm." His mouth went down to your ear, "This ass isn't for him though, yeah?"

"N-No. It isn't."

"Neither is that pretty pussy though, right?"

"Right, baby."

"Who does it belong to?"

You looked up into his eyes, your hands on his chest. "It belongs to you, Eren."

"That's right. You belong to me. Don't ever try to fucking leave me or pull the shit you pulled earlier again, alright?"

Your lashes batted, but you still looked at him with adoration. "Okay, baby. I won't."

"Good girl." Gripping your ass cheeks, he shook one in his hold before he told you, "Get on your knees."

You did what he said, and he held your locs in his hand as you looked up at him. "What about your dad, though?"

"He's a surgeon. Working overtime tonight. Now, go ahead and pull it out. Let's see how else you can use this overachieving mouth."

He was right. You tried to overachieve in everything that you did. Even sucking dick. When you pulled his already hard dick out of his pants, you kissed the tip, using his drops of pre-cum as an extra layer of lip gloss.

You jerked him off with both hands, using your saliva from the licks you placed up his shaft as lubricant. Your hand ran up his torso, and you only had your eyes on his dick as you kissed it and slapped it against your lips.

When you actually started taking it in your mouth is when he got more vocal. You would hum every time you would slowly bob your head back and forth, taking more and more of his length everytime, until his whole shaft was in your mouth and you had your hand placed on the back of his waist to keep it there.

You pulled away and caught your breath, looking up at his hazy teal orbs that were looking straight back down at you in awe. "How many times have you fucked?"

All you gave to that question was a smirk, caressing his dick in your palm and using your wet lips to kiss and suck his fat balls. You practically gargled them in your spitty mouth while you sped up the pace of pumping his thick dick in your hand.

"Fuuuuuck." His groan was low and raspy as he took your throat as his own personal belonging.

You took his length back into your mouth, and the more of a mess you made increased to how much he was turned on. He felt every time his inches would go past your plump lips into your warm mouth. Your tongue kept licking that big vein that ran down the middle of his cock.

"Shit, I accept your apology. It's okay, it's okay baby. Fuck."

Your eyes shut and you stopped moving after he said that, and you took a deep breath and wiped your mouth. "I didn't— I didn't cum yet."

"I know that. I was paying you back what I owed." You got off of your knees and walked past him, "You were being really mean, though. Now I feel like I'm owed something. Come on."

You scurried up the stairs, and he didn't even tuck his dick back in to follow you. You were ahead of him, but him skipping stairs when he walked helped close the distance.

"I owe you?" He asked when he met you in his bedroom.

"Yeah. You do." He didn't expect it, and that's why it was so easy for you to push him on his bed. He sat up on his elbows as he watched you pull your pants down.

"Hold on, I don't want you to take your panties off y—"

"Eren, you don't get a say right now, baby. I'm sorry to break it to you."

His eyebrow furrowed, him looking like he was in complete disbelief. "What?"

"You heard me." Your juicy pussy was nude and aligned with his wet and hard cock as you took off your hoodie, then your bra, unleashing your yummy breasts right in his face.

But he couldn't touch them, or even lift up and suck them, because after you helped him take his shirt off, you pinned his hands down to the bed with your own, even humming in sadistic satisfaction when you did it. You used one hand to put him inside of you, and you moaned so sexily that he could've came right there.

But he didn't, he tried to push through. Even when you started bouncing that ass up and down on him ruthlessly, clapping sounds filling the room.

"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good." Your pussy was waiting for him, missing him desperately after last night. You didn't waste a second when on top of him.

You watched as his face scrunched up while you were milking the soul out of him through his dick. He was looking to the side, repeating, "Oh my god." with his deep moans.

He should've known you were gonna double back. Two strong-willed people having sex with each other just seems to lead to it lasting all night. But riding him like this right after sucking him so good and not letting him cum was just cruel.

That's why it took less than two minutes for him to give you the warning, forcing out an, "I'm— cumming." You got off of him, and watched as his spurts of cum came out like a fountain. It got all over his chest and yours, mixing in with the hair from his happy trail and dripping down from your tits to your stomach.

Your hand was on the bottom of his shaft, and you were gently pumping him as he came, so you loved the feeling of his dick pulsating as he emptied his balls. Once he was finished, you dragged your hand up his shaft, and he watched as you licked the cum off your fingers.

"Shit, come here."

You laid down on your stomach next to him and kissed him. "You're such a fucking freak." He told you, intertwining his fingers with your soft locs.

"And you aren't?"

"I never said I wasn't. That's why I like fucking you so much."

After a few minutes of you two making out, a struggle for dominance ensued. He quickly won it though, with him gripping your ass helping him get on top of you.

To your surprise, his dick was still hard, and he laid it over your stomach. "You're crazy, y'know? Fucking me like that without a condom."

"It felt better that way. And, I'm on birth control anyway."

"Hmm, good. Because we ran out of condoms last night."

"Oh."

"So, you okay if I fill you up?" He slid inside as he asked you this, and that familiar imprint in your stomach came back. "Make you mine?"

"Y-Yeah. Fill me up baby."

Eren loved hickeys, but not during the school year. He's literally always involved with a sport, so unless it's a winter practice, they're gonna be seen on him. But thankfully, he loved giving them too. So he took the liberty to grab your legs and fold you in half, allowing himself to lean down and kiss you as he gave you those magnificent thrusts. Those kisses went lower, and his mouth stayed in spots on your neck as his groans easily traveled to your ears.

When he sat back up, his pace got brutal, and you felt every last thrust hit so deep inside of you. "It's deep, Eren. So fucking deep."

Your breathy whimpers turned him on so much. He was focused on trying to make your pussy remember his shape fondly down to every last vein, hoping that he could make every one of his eight inches get in there.

He had a goal, and that's why he was being so relentless. You put your hand on his chest, whining and whimpering, but he moved it away. When he moved his hand back, he decided to hold your hands and your legs in his holds together.

"Fuck! Baby, slow downnn."

He was gonna keep plowing into you, even faster now that you said something. "Take it. You got it, ma."

"Eren, Eren! Fuck!" Your eyes were rolling back, and he was glad to see that he could make your eyes roll back in another way than you having sass.

You started repeating a slur of yeses when you were cumming, and as your body shook with your orgasm, you left a milky puddle of your cream under you.

Now is when he slowed down, to ride out his own high. He kept holding you where you were as his eyes shut, groaning and moaning while he filled you up, as he said he would do.

When he pulled out, the creamy concoction that was left on him was falling out of you. "Come here, mama."

He picked you up, and you held onto him tight as he rubbed your back up and down. "You're mine, baby."

You were mindfucked and hazy, but you still responded with, "I'm yours."

"All fucking mine."

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐣. 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

wasnt sure if you wanted smut so if you do just send another req and ill gladly make a pt 2, tysm for the request!

John Murphy - Dropship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ Murphy was always protective of you, so when he thought Jasper sparked an interest in you- he was quick to shut it down. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: sfw, kissing

Being an engineer meant I had to be around Monty and Jasper whether I liked it or not- and I did like it, they were my first two friends on the ground. Other than Murphy.

Murphy and I had been friends on the Ark before we got incriminated, he was my best friend. We always did everything together. Stealing, pranking, once even blasting music through the intercoms. I always smiled at the memories, they were the only good ones I made on the Ark.

I'd like to think Murphy was still my friend, but most of his old self had been glossed over with the new ego of being Bellamy's 'second in command' as they called it. I think Bellamy knows more than half of these people trust Murphy, or well they did. Bellamy could've been easily taken over without the title, now that people were more afraid of Murphy given his recent history.

What happened to 'whatever the hell we want'?

With Murphy playing leader, I was left with Monty and Jasper. I enjoyed their company greatly- as weird as they were. Out of the two, Jasper and I had been the closest, though, I knew nobody could take the 'best friend' title away from Monty. Not that I was shooting for it, anyway. I had my own things to worry about, things most people in this camp couldn't care less about; Murphy.

I was sitting by the campfire next to Jasper and Monty, it was a cold day, the sun was resting behind grey clouds and only peeking through every now and then. Jasper must've noticed how my nose turned color because he unraveled himself from the jacket that was previously hiding his lanky body and wrapped it around my shoulders.

I smiled at his gesture, not knowing a certain someone was looking, "Thanks, Jasp."

Jasper gave me a warm smile in return, "You need it more than me," While the gesture was sweet, he in fact needed it more. The fire didn't look like it was helping anybody.

"Have you guys seen Murphy?" I muttered. I had been meaning to talk with him and catch up on how he's been. I missed our small talks. With him playing leader he's been too 'busy'.

Monty's eyes began trailing something behind me, "Walking into the dropship, why?"

It took me a few seconds to get what he said, the coldness from before melting away as I hurriedly handed Jasper his jacket back and left- leaving them questioning.

My demeanor appeared nervous, I wasn't sure how he viewed me anymore with his new act. We hadn't sat down and talked since we landed, I was sure he had already forgotten about me. But you don't know until you try, right?

Moving past the red tarp we used as a door I saw no sight of Murphy, I was about to give up when I heard a loud slam from the level above. It had to of been Murphy.

I swiftly made my way up the ladder and pushed open the hatch with a loud grunt.

"Murphy?" I asked as I stood up and dusted my hands off.

"Look who it is." A voice came from behind me, his tone was full of annoyance. I wasn't sure if the annoyance was towards me.

"This was a bad idea." I said, heading towards the hatch.

Murphy sighed and threw his head back, "Bored of flirting with Jasper?"

His sentence made me stop in my tracks, no way he thought that, right? He couldn't possibly think me and Jasper were more than friends, no offense Jasper. I felt anger bubbling in my chest as my face conformed to one of confusion as I tried to think of how he could've possibly came to that conclusion.

He took my silence as a sign to explain, "Where's his jacket?" The dots seemed to finally connect, he was jealous of Jasper.

Murphy was jealous of Jasper?!

No offense Jasper.

A wave of relief hit my body as I let out an exaggerated exhale, which only seemed to annoy Murphy further. I was relieved that's the only thing he was frustrated with, I'd never expected to see Murphy jealous over somebody interacting with me. I knew he was protective but I didn't think he was that protective.

"Me and Jasper are just friends, Murph," I said, my shivering hands going unnoticed by me.

"Friends don't sit that close, I see you guys talking like all the time," Murphy expressed, his brows furrowing as his voice grew more stern. He started walking closer to me and I took a few steps back, my back hitting the cold metal wall which sent shivers down my body.

"What're you doing?" I ask, my voice wavering.

"What I should've done a long time ago," Murphy's hands reached for my cheeks, the warmth of his palms engulfing them as his lips met mine.

I was shocked but I wasn't planning on moving away, I swore Murphy could've heard how fast my heart was beating. After a few seconds, my eyes fluttered shut and I leaned into the kiss, bringing my arms up around his neck only pushing him in more.

His body was flat against mine, the closeness brought a nice warmth to my body. His lips felt rough against mine and his nose fit cozy next to my nose.

I didn't have any thoughts, my mind went blank, and the only thing I was thinking about was how good Murphy tasted. My hands ran through his hair and his fingers ran across my jawline. Murphy was the first to pull away, leaving me feeling a sense of loss and emptiness- already missing the way his lips felt.

Murphy smirked almost like he sensed how I felt, he leaned into my neck and began sucking, leaving traces of him all over my neck. I gasped out at the feeling, but I didn't complain, I wanted people to know I was Murphy's.

After a while, Murphy finally felt satisfied with the amount of markings he made, not that I could see.

"Now everyone will know who you belong to," He gave me his classic shit-eating grin, clearly feeling full of himself as he admired the hickeys he left.

"Shut up," I said with a smile.

"Make me," He said, shrugging off his jacket and placing it into my hands, "Next time, just ask."

His fingers trailed along my jawline again, stopping at my chin and swiftly pulling me into another quick kiss, causing me to form a blush on my cheeks.

I was his.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˓ @ taglist. ৎ ᐟ ۫

@yokolesbianism @itzdarling

[thewertsearch]

ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help […] KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science

At this point. Kanaya is Human Sarcasming better than most actual humans.

ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic […] KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science

I think Dave taught Kanaya more about the art of trolling in a single conversation than Eridan could in an entire lifetime.

That guy can troll better than most actual trolls.

ERIDAN: wwhats that thing there KANAYA: The Matriorb KANAYA: I Was About To Go Hatch It In The Core To Restore Our Race ERIDAN: that sounds ERIDAN: hopeful […] ERIDAN: if theres goin to be any sort a hope for our race as the prince of hope i demand to be invvolvved ERIDAN: so dont go anywwhere wwithout me got it […] KANAYA: Fine

I’m all for the construction of neo-Alternia, but I really don't think Eridan should be on the planning committee, unless we also want a neo-hemospectrum.

Honestly, the only trolls I'd really trust to rebuild their society are the bottom half of the hemospectrum, and possibly Gamzee. The other highbloods can go sit in the corner.

ERIDAN: its not magic wwe talked about this kar KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS

I don’t see how Hope translates to a robot-exploding beam, though.

If it was wizards he was blowing up, I’d understand, because it would be consistent with my theory that he's weaponizing his hatred of FRAUDULENT MAGIC. If anything, his Science Wand should strengthen a robot, since it's a product of the TRUEST SCIENCES.

ERIDAN: i had a harder time than anybody wwith this game ERIDAN: it wwas really fuckin unfair wwhat challenges i got saddled wwith ERIDAN: i wwoulda fuckin MURDERED for a land full of a lot a harmless brains and fire ERIDAN: but no ERIDAN: it wwas so lonely ERIDAN: hey guys anybody wwant to come hang out wwith me in the land a wwrath and angels

That sounds cool, though. Angels, I assume, are how Hope is represented in his Land, and I’m sure Eridan synergized well with its wrath. I wonder what physical form it took?

ERIDAN: anybody at all i knoww it isnt anythin like one of your flippin land picnics ERIDAN: anybody please ill evven settle for the kittycat shipper cavve girl

You can't complain about loneliness and then insult your ‘friend’ in the same breath. That's not how any of this works, and the fact that you're unaware of this should tell you everything you need to know about why you're lonely.

So Karkat does know about Nepeta’s little crush. He is a relationship aficionado, after all.

Poor Nepeta.

I sort of figured Karkat didn't reciprocate her feelings. He's preoccupied with plenty of other redrom prospects, and he basically never mentions her.

Karkat’s honestly a little too nice to Eridan. He’s being such a bro here, but what Eridan actually needs is to be brought down to size a little.

Granted, I think Eridan needs a bigger shock to the system than an angry tirade from Karkat. I feel like Terezi could tear him to pieces - but since it's unfair to expect her to put up with him alone, I'd put both the Scourge Sisters on this assignment. >:)

What Karkat is aptly demonstrating here is that there’s a difference between an Eridan kind of asshole and a Karkat kind of asshole.

Let's be real, here - Karkat's a dick. But he's a dick who holds no true malice, knows when he's crossed a line, and is willing to sincerely apologize for his past actions, and make amends.

Eridan possesses none of these qualities, which is why he sat alone in his house for a month while Karkat befriended the entire cast.

[crusty-chronicles]

Stubborn

Synopsis: In which our two favorite demons tend to and scold Reader for being careless during a fight. Separate drabbles btw

Kurama 🦊🦊🦊

The first thought that crosses his mind is one of anger. How dare that feeble demon even think to put it's hands on you. The next is that there's blood. So much blood seeping from the wound on your side. The decision of what to do is made without hesitation. He wasted no time rushing to your side. Lifting up your shirt slightly to heal the wound.

The others would take care of the fleeing demon. For now, his top priority was you. Making sure you'd be okay. But apparently that wasn't how you saw it. Pushing his hands away with the little strength you had.

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. You should go after that thing with the others,” you tried to sway.

As if your life wasn't more important.

Like he didn't cherish you more than anything.

His gaze hardened, maneuvering you on your back to get a proper look at your wound. Summoning his spirit energy in his palm and pressing it firmly against your side.

“You'd think of me so callous as to abandon my injured lover?” He questioned.

His accusation temporarily shocking you.

“No but-” ‘you shouldn't be wasting your time with me.’ you wanted to say. But you were cut off before you could finish.

“Then there's nothing more to discuss. When I'm finished, we'll go right back home. Yusuke and Kuwabara are more than capable of handling this by themselves.”

You once again shifted around, trying to get him to stop. The case came first. It should've come first. Not you. You were hurt, but wouldn't die from it. It was pointless wasting energy on something you could manage with on your own. Kurama shouldn't be focusing on you when there was still an important mission at hand.

He gave you a glare and that was all it took to have you stilling.

“Why must you insist on being difficult? Don't you know that I'll choose you every time? I'll always choose you over any fight, any mission, any person. No matter what, it's always you, so sit still and let me heal you.”

—------

Hiei ⚔️⚔️⚔️

Impulsive, impulsive, impulsive.

He sees red the second your body hits the floor and you struggle to get up. A dark crimson trailing down your forehead.

Damn whoever hurt you, and damn anybody who dared get in his way.

He quickly slays the one responsible for your injury. Not even giving them enough time to process what's happening before it's over. When that's taken care of, he makes his way over to you. Shooing the group of your friends away so he can inspect your injuries himself. Despite the protests from a certain troublesome reaper.

“Let me see.” It's more of an order than a request.

But instead of complying, you turn your head and try to stand. Trying your best not to make a big deal out of nothing. Only for Hiei to shove you back down.

“I'm okay. It's just a scratch.” You brushed off, but he wasn't convinced in the slightest. Moving to wipe off the blood from your forehead.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Don't. It doesn't hurt, so leave it. And anyways, you shouldn't have killed that guy. He needed to be brought in for questioning.”

Your words only further irritating the three eyed demon.

It seems you didn't quite understand the importance you held in his life.

He would have slayed thousands for even looking at you wrong. And here you were defending some cretin who'd committed an offense that was deserving of a fate worse than death. Sometimes he hated that human heart of yours.

“Shut up. You don't get to run your mouth after being so foolish.” He scolded. Moving to heal your injury with his spirit energy. He didn't do it often, but you were always a special case. You were special.

Yet you continued to try and avoid his help.

“I'm fine!”

“Argue any further and I'll put you to sleep myself. You think I care about some low life over you? You must have a concussion if you believe that.”

Then his next words were softer. For your ears only.

“Your life takes priority over anyone and everything, got that? You're mine, and any creature that dares lay a finger on you will have to deal with that consequence.”

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

[arceespinkgun]

I think I've reached my last nerve with how TF fans treat Jazz on here and on AO3, and I feel the need to rant about it. Obligatory "not all Jazz fans" and "not all JazzProwl fans" disclaimer here... if this doesn't sound like it's describing the content you make or enjoy, then it's not. Honestly, I don't think this angry rant is going to convince anybody of anything, but I'm posting it because I want to make it clear that people see this and are aware it's racist.

Never let it be said that racism isn't thriving in the TF fandom on Tumblr and AO3, because so much Jazz fan content is the most blatantly racist shit. And it's nowhere near as bad on other sites that people here usually claim are more racist—I've never seen what I'm about to describe on r/transformers, for example. TF fans on here often claim to love Jazz so much and say he's one of the best, most unhateable TF characters along with Soundwave, but do they ACTUALLY love Jazz?

Tumblr and AO3 users when they see this great, heavily Black-coded hero: We love Jazz! Ooh, what if he was a slave? What if he was hyper-violent? What if he was a disruptive chaos gremlin? What if he was hypersexual? What if he was lazy and never did his work? What if he was a drug addict? What if he was a prostitute? What if he had an evil alter? What if he used to be/was secretly a Decepticon? What if he was a notorious criminal? What if he was literally some kind of bestial monster?

I've actually seen people on Tumblr asking if Jazz being a Decepticon or having an evil alter was ever canon. Well, let this be a PSA: none of this shit is fucking real! I've seen almost all the media Jazz is in, and none of this reflects how he's been portrayed, ever! Apparently people posting links and screenshots and GIFs showing what Jazz has actually been like in canon hasn't caused people to self-reflect, because this shit is still somehow super popular and even filtering doesn't screen even close to all of it! And I've seen in real-time people who are newer to the fandom getting tricked by all this racist fanon and then being drawn into it, thinking it reflects something when it doesn't! That's one of the things that bothers me most!

And then there's the other half of this, which is the immense popularity of JazzProwl. Putting aside how ridiculous it is that a ship between characters who haven't had a positive interaction in fifteen years is somehow the most popular ship in this fandom, half of all the Jazz content I see on sites like Tumblr also stars Prowl, as if Jazz isn't an arguably more prominent character with tons of unexplored stuff of his own going on. But that's the least of it. How the hell do I constantly see people uncritically post shit with this ship like Prowl trying to arrest or pull over a chaotic criminal Jazz? Or shooting at him? Or white savior, copaganda, anti-sex work garbage like Prowl as a cop rescuing prostitute/stripper Jazz from exploitative working conditions (I'm not making this shit up)? (Also, @ people who make content in which Prowl is Jazz's slave—I see you too, and you're not woke. You are still linking Black people to slavery as your first thought and then assuming it's subversive to flip the dynamic you'd expect to see. You're getting off on slavery and still including a Black-coded hero in your shit.)

Even the majority of the much milder content I see is still ridiculously OOC and plays into racist tropes in its own ways. Like how 90% of JazzProwl content shows a lazy, distractible Jazz endlessly trying to get Prowl to relax by disrupting his work or playing pranks or some shit. What media does that come from? Oh yeah, it comes from nowhere, because it's just old fanon that's been endlessly regurgitated by people who aren't realizing how making this up plays into offensive stereotypes about Black men and boys. Hey, if you people love this boring dynamic so much, maybe look at the canon relationships that are similar to it instead of forcing characters who don't fit it whatsoever into these roles without thinking about the implications!

And guess what? I've repeatedly seen literal proof that basically everyone who thinks they like this ship hasn't ever seen the characters interact in canon, too—every so often somebody on here will ask why JazzProwl is popular and ask for fans to share the canon media that made them ship it... and inevitably nobody can share anything, which is hilarious every time. Sometimes people will admit it's all fanon. In fact, the other day I saw a link to a fic from the very early 2000s that claims to be the super-influential, first JazzProwl fic ever making the rounds on Tumblr, and guess what? I looked at it and it was already super fucking racist, with Jazz being described as chaotic and not a hard worker and it had Prowl angrily shooting at him!!!

Jazz is one of my favorite characters and I'm so sick of this shit! Normally I love transformative works and new interpretations of characters, but in this case the fanon is so horrid and has always been horrid, so either try to examine Jazz in canon and portray him based on it, or be a fan of a different character! And fucking REMEMBER that this is a Black-coded hero, damn it! I saw a fic the other day that made me literally choke on my drink because it had Blaster (also a Black-coded hero) describing Jazz as a "spook!" THAT DOES NOT JUST MEAN SPY, THAT'S A RACIST, ANTI-BLACK SLUR!!! And this isn't even getting into how people in fic have Jazz talk! Jazz in all the media I've seen speaks very clearly and rarely has any kind of accent, but I constantly see white people attempting to write his dialogue phonetically in a way that feels straight out of Uncle Tom's Cabin. What the fuck is this?!

Also, petty, but the fans who make and consume this kind of content in my opinion don't then get to relentlessly criticize something like Earthspark, which has a cast and crew of people of color, by claiming it undermined its themes and is racist!