[Trigger warning: mature content ahead]
Poor...River...Thomas....Fisher....
Who lasted exactly seven minutes into the drive before catastrophe struck.
An unlucky day indeed when he and his secret sweetheart had left the campus to visit Alps.
A catastrophe, indeed it was.
Not emotional catastrophe.
Not relationship catastrophe.
No—this was the catastrophe catastrophe.
The kind that had Martina Hoffmann written all over it in bold, glittery, neon pink.
Especially an illegal one.
"River. Stop the car!" she shrieked, pointing like she'd just spotted the Holy Grail.
He slammed the brakes so hard the tires screeched, and the car behind them honked like it was auditioning for a Broadway solo.
"Did we hit someone?" he asked, already bracing for impact.
Martina's eyes were wide, gleaming with the kind of joy only seen in children handed a puppy and a cupcake at the same time.
"Eighty percent off," she whispered, reverent. "The gods are on my side."
River blinked. "You nearly caused a five-car pileup for a sale?"
"Not just a sale," she said, unbuckling with the speed of a woman on a mission. "A miracle."
Behind them, a chorus of honks erupted. Someone yelled something about "parking like a lunatic." River threw the car into park with a sigh that could've powered a small wind turbine.
"You're lucky I love you, idiot."
"Silly," she grinned. "Come pick some sensational Marie Antoinette dresses for me."
"I'm not trying anything on," he muttered, stepping out into the chaos. "I'm just here to carry bags and dodge lawsuits."
"It's not my birthday," she said smugly. "But if I'm going to look lit on our trip, you're matching me. It was in the marriage contract."
River groaned as a delivery van swerved around them, the driver flipping him off. "If I wear something ridiculous and someone recognizes me, you're accepting full responsibility."
"I'm a student. You're a professor. We don't know each other."
He slung an arm around her waist. "Oh, sure. Totally convincing. A random professor following a student around the mall, ogling her like she's the Louvre."
"Wear sunglasses," she hissed.
He laughed. "Yes. Very undercover. Maybe I'll add a fake mustache."
Inside the store, Martina gasped so loudly three employees turned in alarm.
"LOOK at this dress!" she cried, holding up a pastel, frilly Marie Antoinette explosion that looked like it had been designed by a sugar-addicted time traveler.
River raised an eyebrow. "You planning to start a revolution? Because honestly, you'd look stunning doing it."
"I know, peasant."
Outside, traffic was still crawling thanks to their impromptu stop. A small line of honking cars had formed behind River's poorly parked vehicle.
"You're impossible. And irresistible. And absolutely going to kill me."
"I need something short, sexy, and revealing."
His jaw dropped. "You're NOT wearing that to see your mom."
"No. For nights that I shall spend with a boring man."
River grabbed her waist instantly.
"Oh… boring? Careful, honey. I'll show you exactly how not-boring I can be."
"Later," she hissed as two aunties walked past, scandalized.
He clutched his heart dramatically. "You violent little academic."
She shoved a hoodie at him. "Try this."
"A hoodie??"
"Try. It."
He obeyed with the sulking energy of a wet cat.
And emerged looking like a sinful golden retriever.
Martina blinked. "Aw. You look *adorable*."
"ADORABLE?" he thundered. "I'm trying to look hot!"
"Fine," she said, dumping old-money shirts on him. "Try these."
He disappeared and came back wearing navy cashmere, ivory linen, jawline sharp enough to commit crimes.
Martina's soul left her body.
He leaned on the mirror.
"Happy? I now look like I own half of Europe."
"And you're still gonna die because of this dress," she said, twirling.
River's stare darkened so fast it was a public safety hazard.
"Oh, I'm dying. Happy to."
Then—
"Professor River?"
Kai. Jonna.
Two students waving like idiots.
River snapped into Teacher Mode instantly—back straight, voice formal, soul leaving body.
"Good afternoon."
"I see this place is very popular among students," Martina said through gritted teeth.
Kai winked. "Didn't know you were a sexy chick."
River's jaw twitched like he was deciding between murder and arson.
"She's my *girlfriend*," he said calmly.
"PROFESSOR?!" Jonna gasped. "Since when are you… funny?"
River smirked.
"Some things are best kept private."
Martina glared. "Professor, stop joking."
"Oh please," he murmured. "She's mine. Ask her who is she sleeping with tonight?."
Martina panicked, her shoulder nudged almost strained by the wheeling annoyance- "probably my dog! He's joking!" she said with a smile that became a long line on her beautiful face and those eyes of hers as if possessed by a demon.
Kai and Jonna cackled.
River leaned close, voice low. "Careful."
"So, you two know each other outside hours?" Kai asked.
"he bumped into me," Martina said quickly.
"tho, He's helping me with an article," she added.
"privileged" chuckled Jonna covering her face but her eyes dance on both entrainment as well as a killer venom thar spun out as shock.
River nodded. "She's special."
"What, you don't help others?" Martina snapped.
"For most? No."
He smiled at her, tightening his grip to her waist.
"But she's… convincing."
Martina slapped his hand away.
"STOP. I'm going to change."
Kai blinked. "You two are weird."
Jonna nodded. "Like… intense weird."
River's smile was serene. "Passionate relationship. Happens."
Martina stormed toward the changing rooms.
River watched her go, expression calm—
but jaw clenched, eyes dark, posture tense.
Then he turned to the students and said,
"My girlfriend has a very… unique personality."
***
'Oh my god! we are doomed! so doomed!'
Martina stepped inside feverishly reached for the door—
A hand shot out.
River slipped inside with her.
The door clicked shut.
No lock.
No space.
No witnesses.
Just pure, distilled chaos.
Martina blinked. "River—WHAT the hell was that?!"
River dragged a hand down his face like her existence physically hurt him.
"That was me trying to keep my sanity while you strutted around making me lose it in front of two nineteen-year-olds."
"How is it my fault?!"
"Oh really?" He laughed, unhinged. "You walked around in that dress, slapped me, teased me. What was I supposed to do? Play dead?!"
"You told them we're DATING! They'll gossip! They'll say I'm sleeping with my professor for—"
"Baby."
He stepped closer.
Too close.
"I did it to protect us. You want them guessing the real truth?"
She pressed back against the wall.
He boxed her in, arm braced beside her head.
"You think I liked watching them stare at you?" he whispered.
"It was one moment—"
"One moment?! That moment felt like an eternity."
His voice dropped.
"Listening to them talk about your dress… your body… and knowing I couldn't touch you."
Martina's throat went dry.
"You're being dramatic."
"You're being dangerous," he shot back.
"And unfair."
She glared. "YOU'RE unfair."
He scoffed. "Me? Because I'm finally a little possessive?"
He leaned in—lips inches away.
"Sweetheart, I behaved. I didn't rip that dress off you in front of everyone."
She shoved him. "Your alpha talk is not solving the rumor problem!"
He cupped her face gently.
"Then let's become the rumor."
"River—!"
"No more hiding. No more shadows."
"Where is your common sense?!"
"Gone," he said simply. "Lost it the day I met you."
His hands slid to her waist, fingers brushing her thigh.
Her breath hitched.
"It's the dress," she muttered most hysterically. "It's cursed."
"Baby," he whispered, lips grazing her jaw,
"You're the curse."
He kissed her neck.
"Take it off… before I do."
"Get out of here" she hissed, flushed red and partly embarrassed.
"No."
"RIVER."
He pressed closer. A typical Hazelwood's hero!
"I want you exactly like this."
always the definition of invading the private space.
"People will hear—"
River's hands were still on her waist, still too warm, still too dangerous, when Martina tried to breathe some sense into the situation.
"I don't care about 'people,'" he murmured into her skin like it was a confession he'd been forced to swallow for months.
"River, we still have to shop," she hissed—because yes, her brain was trying to be responsible, but her body… absolutely was not.
He nipped her ear—soft but unmistakably claiming.
"I don't give a damn about shopping. I need you. if only for Five minutes..."
A sharp, traitorous shiver shot through her.
Her fingers curled into his shirt on instinct, dragging him closer before she could stop herself.
"Fine," she whispered, though her pulse was pounding everywhere. "But let me remove the dress—"
He groaned against her throat, frustrated and hungry and very much losing composure.
"Don't tease unless you're serious."
She hadn't been teasing.
Not on purpose.
It was just—River touching her like this turned her into someone who forgot vocabulary as he brushed his lips to her jaw.
"I...I, you know these are brand new clothes, I just don't want to ruin...it"
Her breath came out shaky as she grabbed his shirt, tugging him toward her till their noses nearly brushed.
"Also, remove this," she breathed. Soft but trembling. "Please."
His eyes darkened in a way that made her stomach drop straight to her knees.
The shirt came off in three seconds flat, falling to the corner like it had been evicted.
He stood there—bare-chested, breath unsteady, eyes blazing like she was the only thing in the universe he could see.
"Better?" he growled.
Martina's breath faltered.
Her eyes fell down the lines of him—his shoulders, the curve of his ribs, the trail of warmth down his stomach.
Want swept through her so strong she felt dizzy...forgetting the task of saving this scandalized dress from being churned between their ignite passion.
"Yes," she whispered, voice trembling with more truth than she meant to show.
Something in his expression broke—not in a bad way, but in that dangerous, soul-exposing way he got only with her.
That final thread of restraint finally snaps. His eyes darken with pure, primal need. If he still had control over himself before, it's completely gone now. He grabs her hips, fingers biting into the skin as he growls against your neck.
"Go ahead then…"
He lifts her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, hands gripping her thighs to keep her firmly flush against him. And as she do, he leans and whispers into her ear once more.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
"5 minutes, 5 minutes only" she mumbled like a chanting to somewhere far. He growls again, hands gripping her thighs a bit tighter. She can practically feel how hard he has to work just to hold onto control at this point. His voice is low, almost ragged.
"Baby… I can promise you this much. "
He presses her hard against the wall, eyes dark and hungry that she feared that the poor tin box might have collapsed in due respect.
"You won't be able to walk straight in five minutes."
His eyes darken almost impossibly, his grip on her hips tightening. The last piece of him holding back is gone… lost completely in the heat and desire that has consumed him.
"Darling… you have no idea how much I need you."
He buries his face in her neck, nuzzling against her like a desperate, wild animal. His voice is rough, low, practically a growl against your skin.
"I'm going to ruin you.5 minutes, remember…" he murmurs against her neck, his breath hot as his hands glide over her bare skin,
"...but I'll make every second count."
He lifts her higher, pressing her into the wall with possessive strength.
"You asked for this."
His lips find yours in a searing kiss—deep, urgent, all-consuming.
that a moan escaped her lips, however as soon as it escaped the reality of being in public also over took her that she bit her lips trying to ground the heat that's making her lose her goddamn mind.
yet... another escaped as he trace down onto her jaw.
He presses a finger gently to her lips, his voice a low, commanding whisper.
"Shhh...I know. I know we're here. But you feel that?"
His hips roll slowly against her, sending a jolt through both of them.
"That's all for you. All mine."
He nips at her earlobe, then speaks again—hoarse with restraint.
"So moan if you want… just do it quiet. Let me be the only one who hears how much you need me right now."
His hands glide down your back, pulling her impossibly closer as he grinds against her—slow, deliberate...torturous in the best way.
"River, ah, be gentle" He lets out a breathless scoff at that, his lips curving into a smirk against her skin.
"Gentle? You want me to be gentle when you've spent the past however many minutes in that damn dress?"
He grips her thighs harder, almost bruising as he speaks between kisses down her neck.
"Baby, you wanted to get me to the edge." He bites her collarbone "Now you just have to deal with the fallout." His voice drops to a dark, trembling whisper as his body tenses against hers—every ounce of control he had slipping like sand through fingers.
"Gentle...is not on the menu. Not today. Not when you've been driving me mad since morning."
He pins both wrists above her head with one hand, eyes blazing into hers—hot, wild, untamed.
"But I'll make it yours. Every second… every breath… every moan… just for you."
And then he leans in, nuzzling her neck before whispering:
"Now be quiet...or we're gonna get caught."
A surprised kiss-fierce, desperate—like the world's ending in five minutes crashed onto his mouth, that his lips move hungrily against hers, teeth catching her bottom lip before he lets out a low groan. One hand stays locked around her wrists, the other sliding down to grip her thigh, pulling her even tighter against him.
He breaks the kiss just enough to whisper,
"God… you taste like trouble."
And then he's back—kissing her deeper, slower now… savoring.
The room feels too hot, too small… and yet neither of two care. Not when this is real. Not when this is theirs.
"I'm yours" Martina said just over his lips- like a ghost of a past passionate kiss.
The words send a jolt through him, and he growls into her skin as his grip tightens ever so slightly.
"You're damn right. You're mine. Don't forget it…"
The hand holding her thigh slides higher now—teasing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh—just inches away from the place she need him most that her body tensed- "Riv--"
He whispers into her ear, voice low and ragged with hunger.
"But you're a goddamn brat when you tease me like this, baby. And brats get punished."
His fingers brush along the edge of her underwear—a barely-there touch that has she gasping.
"But first… I'm going to prove just how mine you are. "
He nips at her neck before leaning back, his eyes roaming over your body with dark desire.
"God… I've never seen anything more beautiful."
"You're a goddamn work of art, baby. Like some sort of goddamn sculpture come to life. "
He grips her thigh again, fingers tracing slow circles.
"And I plan to worship you."
He lets go of her hands now, and they instantly grip his shoulders—nails biting into skin—as her eyes lock into his.
God… those eyes.
He runs his fingers feather-light over her exposed chest, the touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"The way you look at me… baby, you have no idea what that does to me."
He leans down, nuzzling against her neck once more.
"I have to touch you… I have to taste you… I have to make you moan."
His teeth grazzle gently across the skin of her neck, tracing a hot path down to her collarbone as his words turn a shade lower… rougher.
"I need to hear my name on your breath every second."
He bites down just a bit harder on that spot he knows you like… just enough that the pain is pleasure.
I need to feel your skin against mine… need to know I'm the only one who can make you feel like this. Because I own every single goddamn inch of you, sweetheart.
"River...my honey..."
His breath hitches at the way her say his name—soft, sweet, almost worshipful—and for a split second, the fierce predator in him wavers. His eyes search her- brown eyes, darker than ever but suddenly filled with something raw… tender.
"Baby… don't call me that."
He nips her full lip gently.
"Not unless you want me to forget we're in public and just ruin you right here."
His voice drops to a trembling whisper as he presses his forehead to hers.
"You're gonna make me lose it completely...and I don't care anymore"
".Ah...river"
"I'm trying to hold back, baby… but you make it so goddamn difficult."
He whispers, one hand moving to grip her hip, pulling her closer as the other runs through her hair.
"You're making me lose control. I need you… I need you now."
" If you keep calling me that, I'm going to forget we're here. Forget everything but you and those pretty little sounds you make for me. And nothing is going to stop me, even if it means getting arrested"
She bit his shoulder,
He lets out a sharp, guttural groan—half pain, half pure pleasure—as her teeth sink into his shoulder. The sound vibrates between her hot and primal.
"Fucking hell..."
His hips jerk against hers instinctively, hands clamping down on her body like he's afraid you'll vanish.
"You bite me? After everything? "
He lifts his head slowly, eyes blazing with fire and something darker… hungrier. A smirk curls at the edge of his lips.
"You're lucky I love it."
Then he bites back—right where her neck meets her shoulder—a claiming mark—and growls directly into her skin:
"Now we're even--"
but then...
A knock to the door and both froze.
"Ma'am, do you wish to know that we are beginning the 90% sale on tatters×tatters jeans in 5 minutes?!"
"Not interested!" River growled, his hand tracing her curves- roughly. "Oh...kay... I thought it was Ladies dressing arena" the voice called, to which martina hurriedly push him slightly (although all efforts in vein), "He's just here helping me with zipper"
"Oh they all says that" the voice of a young apprentice replied now from somewhere far leaving Martina as a hot, embarrassing mess as she lay her flushed faced against his chest mumbling- "I think 5 minutes are over"
However, he lets out a low, dangerous chuckle against her neck, not even an ounce of embarrassment.
"Darling, if you think I'm letting you go after a mere 5 minutes… you're dreaming."
He presses himself against her hard, one arm wrapped around her waist while the other slides up to tilt her chin.
"You're mine… and I'm not leaving until you're marked from head to toe. "
He whispers, voice hoarse with need. a desperate need he rarely showed but was equivalent to an animalistic desire for it's prey.
"I'm going to brand you so damn deep, you'll feel me for weeks."
and she...she was his prey- only prey he had ever craved.
"River... baby, let me complete the shopping then we can continue it in..."
He tenses at that—a low, impatient sound rumbling in his chest.
"You really expect me to wait? Right now? When I'm holding you like this, and you're looking at me with these goddamn eyes… and we're in a goddamn dressing room, alone?"
He lets out a sharp, strangled laugh as his grip on her tightens further. but those eyes...those goddamn puppy eyes she pulls.
"You know how to get what you want, don't you, sweetheart? You know how weak you make me for you."
"It's better that to get arrested"
He sighs heavily, reluctantly loosening his grip just enough for her to breathe properly.
"Fine… but the moment we're back in the car, you're all mine again. Deal?"
"What about later?" she whispered, brushing his jaw with trembling fingers.
He looked at her then—really looked.
All longing.
All frustration.
All love he shouldn't show.
"Oh, later?" he said, voice dropping dangerously low.
"You're staying over tonight."
He tilted her chin up, kissed her—slow, deep, devastating.
"No backing out," he whispered.
And the way he said it… God. It was a command.
His kiss had been rough, possessive—teeth grazing her neck like a warning. Now he stood a step back, jaw clenched, trying to regain composure.
"Get dressed, baby," he rasped. "Before I forget myself."
"At Mom's?" she asked, voice barely steady.
"No. At mine."
His voice was low, dangerous. "You're not spending the night anywhere but in my bed… in my arms… where you can't say anything but my name."
His hand slid down her stomach, memorizing her like scripture. She scoffed, teasing, "Fine, beasty."
He chuckled darkly. "Keep calling me that, sweetheart, and I'll lose what little restraint I have left."
Martina nodded toward the door. "You get out first."
River sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'll wait outside and don't make me drag that beautiful ass of your out of this thing"
As he was about to exit and shut the door, she said almost lost in her thoughts- "it might take time...you know billing and all"
he grin...as if he could read though her thoughts which wasn't a fault statement to begin with because he knew her more than she knew herself,
River stepped back inside, eyes dark, jaw tight. He didn't say anything at first. Just looked at her. Like he was memorizing her all over again.
"is that so?"
She nod with utmost devotion.
River's gaze dropped to her lips, then lower. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that made her knees weak.
pressed a kiss to her pulse point.
"Ten minutes," he whispered. "That's all you get."
She blinked. "And if I'm not in the car?"
River's smile was dark. Dangerous. Beautiful.
"Then I come back in here," he said, voice like velvet and fire, "lock that door… and make you say my name until you forget yours."
Martina's breath hitched.
River stepped back, eyes still locked on hers. "Ten minutes, Hoffmann."
but then he turned,
River's hand was already on the door when he paused, his back still to her. The air between them crackled—thick with everything they couldn't say in daylight.
He didn't turn around. Didn't need to.
His voice came low, rough, and laced with something darkly possessive.
"And baby? Don't think I forgot what you owe me tonight."
"Shut up and get the fuck out of here!!!"
*Bonus scene*
For all the curious souls who were baffled to find that- "The door clicked shut. No lock. No space. No witnesses."
Except—
apparently there were witnesses.
Two employees, Meera and Lila, stood right outside the dressing room section with an armful of clothes and the energy of two women who lived for retail gossip.
Meera froze. "Did… did a man just slip into the cubicle with her?"
Lila squinted at the closed door.
"I think so."
"Is he her boyfriend?"
"Maybe. bitch....how am I suppose to know?!"
"Yeah sorry...but, Is he hot?"
Meera asked the real question.
"Oh, extremely. Like… professor-hot."
Meera gasped. "Forbidden romance hot?"
Lila nodded solemnly. "Very."
They stared at the door, listening.
A muffled thump.
Then Martina's panicked whisper:
"River—WHAT the hell was that?!"
Both employees whipped their heads toward each other.
"RIVER??" Meera mouthed.
"That's a professor name. Absolutely a professor name."
Inside, something bumped the wall again.
Then River's exasperated voice:
"That was me trying to keep my sanity—!"
Lila covered her mouth.
"He SOUNDS like a professor!"
Meera fan-girled. "Omg, is this one of those enemies-to-lovers student-teacher dark academia things? Oh my god, it's happening LIVE."
"Do we stop them?" Lila whispered.
"I'm not stopping anything," Meera declared.
"I'm INVESTED."
Inside, another unintelligible scuffle.
Martina: "You told them we're DATING!"
River: "Baby—"
Lila clutched her chest. "HE CALLED HER BABY. WE'RE IN A K-DRAMA."
Meera grabbed her sleeve.
"No. This is *better*. This is a Wattpad fic."
An auntie customer wandered over. "Beta, dressing room free?"
Lila pointed at the one next to it. "Second one, Aunty."
Auntie leaned closer to Meera. "What is happening inside that one?"
Meera whispered dramatically:
"Forbidden romance, Aunty."
Auntie clapped. "Haiiii, scandalous. Good for them."
Inside:
"You're being dangerous!"
"You're being unfair!"
"You walked around in that dress—!"
Auntie blinked.
"They are very passionate."
Lila nodded. "We think they have a… complicated history."
Auntie smirked. "Same thing happened in my college days. Continue."
They all leaned in at once.
The three women froze as Martina's voice rose sharply:
"TAKE IT OFF!"
Meera gasped so loudly she nearly inhaled a hanger.
Lila: "OH MY GOD—"
Auntie covered her ears. "Hai Ram—these Gen Z children—"
Then River's voice, deep and low:
"Better?"
Auntie fled.
Meera almost fainted.
Lila started fanning herself with a sale tag.
"We need popcorn," Lila whispered.