#They weren’t wrong about the first part.

[beloveds-embrace]

(More of designationless reader based on this idea)

You had always been less.

Less noticeable, less intrusive, less of a presence that mattered, and you learned early on that your family didn’t want you too close. Their scents were for each other, their touches were reserved for those who belonged. You were something other, something they tolerated rather than accepted.

It started small- your mother shifting away when you tried to curl up beside her, your father keeping his voice clipped, distant, like warmth was something you hadn’t earned. Then it became something more. You weren’t allowed in the nest, weren’t allowed to linger where they laid together in a comforting tangle of limbs and scents. You could watch from the doorway, but never enter. Could exist near, but never within.

And so, your body adapted to your family- and now it it was adapting to your pack.

Once more, it started with small things.

The way Ghost would stand a little closer than usual, his hulking body looming just within reach. The way Gaz would brush his fingers over your wrist whenever he passed by, lingering like he was trying to confirm something, brows furrowed. The way Soap had developed the sudden habit of hooking his chin over your shoulder, inhaling deeply before he even seemed to realize he was doing it.

You thought nothing of it at first. They were tactile- it wasn’t unusual for them to be close, to press up against you like you had a scent they could bury themselves in. You had never complained about it before, so you assumed it was just… normal.

But then Price had done it.

He wasn’t the type to be overly affectionate- comforting, yes, steady and there,, but not one for unnecessary touches even if sometimes he’d hold you tight and close. And yet, when you had handed him a cup of coffee that morning, he had taken it and your wrist, holding you still for just a moment too long. His fingers had tightened, just slightly, like he was resisting the urge to pull you closer. His nose flared subtly, lips parting before he let you go with a slow exhale.

You frowned at him, but he only took a sip of his coffee and looked away like nothing had happened.

It started escalating after that- after you joined their nest and arms regularly of your own will.

Ghost wasn’t just standing close anymore- he was standing behind you, his chin nearly brushing the crown of your head as if debating whether to bury his nose there. Soap had stopped using pillows entirely, opting instead to just tuck himself against your side, his face pressed somewhere against your shoulder, your throat, your hair. Gaz had taken to curling around you when you were sitting together, nuzzling shamelessly, inhaling against the skin of your neck like he was trying to memorize something.

And the worst part?

You could feel it.

There had always been something missing, something hollow where others had instincts- some part of you that had never quite woken up. You had learned to live without it, learned to ignore the way packs moved around you instead of with you, the way scent markers never quite stuck no matter how much time you spent pressed into someone’s arms. You had long since accepted that whatever part of you was supposed to respond to this kind of attention had simply been burned out of you long ago.

But now-

Now there was something stirring, something faint and new and wrong.

A deep itch beneath your skin, something that made your stomach curl and your head swim every time one of them leaned in close. Something that made the back of your throat tickle whenever you rested with them, calm and content.

It wasn’t a scent, not really- more like the promise of one, something so faint and elusive that even you couldn’t quite catch it.

But they could, because they had noticed before you did.

That much became painfully clear when Ghost backed you into the corner of the common room one evening, pressing close, his head tilting as he breathed deep, slow, deliberate.

“…The hell are you doing?” Your voice came out unsteady, but he didn’t move, only leaned in closer, eyes dark and fixated like he was trying to map something beneath your skin.

“You smell different.” He murmured.

Your heart lurched.

“No, I don’t. I don’t have any smell.”

Ghost just huffed, a sound that was almost a growl, but not quite. Behind him, Soap shifted where he sat, his nose scrunching, his brow furrowed like something was bothering him.

“I noticed it too,” Gaz muttered. “It’s… new. But it’s there.”

Price had been silent up until that point, but when he finally spoke, his voice was careful.

“…It’s not strong.” His gaze pinned you, assessing, like he was searching for something just out of reach. “But it’s there, love.”

Your stomach twisted.

You had lived your whole life thinking you were empty, thinking you had simply been born wrong. And now-

Now they were telling you it had been there the whole time?

You- you couldn’t believe it. You refused to believe it, refused to accept it after everything, but-

That night, you barely got a moment to yourself.

Ghost wasn’t just standing close anymore- he was practically wrapped around you, his face pressed against your throat, his breath hot and deep as he inhaled in his sleep, mouthing at your neck. Soap was sprawled over your stomach, arms locked around your waist, while Gaz had curled up at your side, face tucked into your shoulder. Even John, John, who had never been one for unnecessary indulgence, had you caged, his body curled around the entire mess of you, nose buried in your hair, lips pressed against your temple.

It was suffocating. It was overwhelming.

It was the safest you had ever felt in your life.

Omegaverse Masterlist

[woniedarlin]

XO,I'm Yours

pairing: Jungwon x fem! Reader

genre: XO, Kitty au

synopsis: Having a massive crush on Jungwon is tough. Every time he’s around, your brain malfunctions, and instead of acting normal, you… avoid him. He’s calm, chill, and entirely out of your league (at least, that’s what you tell yourself). Enter Kitty, the matchmaker, determined to make things happen. With her “help,” you find yourself in the most awkward yet heart-racing moments with Jungwon.

The worst part? Jungwon is noticing you now. And it’s making everything so much more complicated. But maybe… Kitty’s plan wasn’t so bad after all.

author's note: This was requested by @firstclassjaylee . Thank you for this idea!!! Please let me know the pronouns for the og XO Kitty characters! I wasn’t sure, so if I got them wrong, I’d happily change them immediately. Apologies in advance for not being able to mention all the characters. Happy reading!

caution: This fic contains extreme secondhand embarrassment and an excessive amount of Jungwon-induced butterflies. Read at your own risk!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

The plan was simple. Avoid Jungwon at all costs.

It wasn’t that he was mean. That was the problem. Jungwon was nice. The kind of nice that made your stomach do flips and made you feel like an idiot for getting so flustered over someone just existing. So, instead of embarrassing yourself, you settled for admiring him from afar. No eye contact. No unnecessary conversations. Easy.

At least, it was easy...until Kitty found out.

“You have a massive crush on him,” Kitty said one afternoon with her arms crossed.

“No, I don’t.” You knew lying was pointless, but still, you had to try.

Kitty gave you a look. “You walked into a door last week because he was standing near it.”

Your face burned. “That was an accident.”

“Sure,” she said unimpressed. “Look, lucky for you, I happen to be amazing at matchmaking. And I happen to have a plan.”

You blinked. “A plan?”

“Step one: Stop avoiding him.”

You immediately shook your head. “Absolutely not.”

“Too bad because I already started.”

Your stomach dropped. “Kitty. What did you do?”

She just grinned. “You’ll see.”

And just like that, your quiet little crush? It was about to become very complicated.

💌

You should have known Kitty wouldn’t waste any time. The very next day, you find yourself in an unavoidable situation.

It started in the Library. You had just settled in your usual corner, buried in a book, when Kitty slid into the seat across from you.

“What are you—”

“Shh.” She put a finger to her lips. “Just act natural.”

That’s when you saw him.

Jungwon.

He was scanning the shelves a few feet away, oblivious to how your entire body tensed at seeing him. Your brain screamed at you to run, but before you could, Kitty leaned in and whispered, “I told him you needed help with your econ homework.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You did what?”

And right on cue, Jungwon turned, eyes landing on you.

“Hey,” he said as he was walking over.

Kitty beamed. “Perfect timing! She was saying how she’s completely lost in econ.”

You snapped your head toward her. Liar. You were literally top of the class.

Jungwon pulled out the chair beside you and sat down without hesitation. “I can help.”

You swallowed. Oh no.

Kitty’s grin was way too smug. “Great! I’ll leave you two to it.” Then, before you could protest, she was gone.

Leaving you. Alone. With Jungwon.

You looked down at your phone, noticing a message from Kitty

“You’re welcome ;)’’

💌

You tried to focus on Jungwon's explanation for the first few minutes. Really, you did.

But how were you supposed to concentrate when he was sitting this close?

He leaned over the table, pointing at your textbook, his voice steady as he explained some economic theory. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but in reality, your brain was short-circuiting.

“Does that make sense?” he asked, turning to look at you.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

Your face heated. “I was! Kind of. Maybe.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re bad at lying.”

You groaned, then covered your face. “This is embarrassing.”

“Why?” He tilted his head. “It’s just me.”

Exactly.

It was just him. Just Jungwon, who you had spent months avoiding because he made you feel like a walking disaster. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed amused.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you blurted out.

He smirked. “So you’ve just been avoiding me for fun?”

You clamped your mouth shut.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, watching you with a knowing look. “Huh.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” His smirk deepened. “You’re interesting.”

Your stomach did a backflip.

Oh, you were so doomed.

Later that night, Kitty found you in your dorm room, looking too pleased with herself.

“So?” she asked, flopping onto your bed. “How did it go?”

You groaned. “I made a fool of myself.”

Kitty laughed. “Define ‘fool.’”

“I blanked out. He caught me staring. I admitted to avoiding him. And he called me interesting.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. He called you interesting?”

You nodded miserably.

Kitty squealed. “That’s huge!”

You frowned. “How is that huge?”

“Because Jungwon doesn’t just call people interesting, my dear hopeless friend. You caught his attention.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You think?”

“I know.” Kitty grinned. “And trust me, this is only the beginning.”

You groaned again, flopping face-first onto your pillow.

Kitty just laughed.

After all, the matchmaking had only just begun.

💌

“Okay,” Kitty clapped her hands, grinning as she stared at you. “Today’s the day we level you up.”

You blinked and were confused. “Level me up?”

“Yes! You like Jungwon, but you get all shy and awkward around him,” she pointed out. “So, if you want him to notice you, we must work on your confidence.”

You groaned, already feeling embarrassed. “Kitty, this is so unnecessary.”

Kitty ignored you and stepped forward. “First lesson: Posture! Stand straight, shoulders back. Confidence comes from the way you carry yourself.”

You hesitated before adjusting yourself, trying to mimic the way she stood. “Like this?”

Kitty nodded. “Good. Now, when you see Jungwon, don’t look away all nervous. Hold eye contact. Make him feel like he’s the only person in the room.”

You gulped. “The only person in the room? Kitty, I can’t even look at him for three seconds without feeling like I’m about to pass out.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re practicing! Here, pretend I’m Jungwon.”

You stared at her. “Kitty, this is weird.”

“Do it!” she urged.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly raised your head, looking her in the eyes. You managed to hold it for two seconds before covering your face. “Nope. I can’t do this.”

Kitty groaned dramatically. “Okay, let’s try something else. Flirting! Sometimes, a little playful teasing can go a long way.”

You hesitated. “Like… what kind of teasing?”

Kitty smirked. “Try complimenting him, but make it sound casual. Like, ‘Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.’”

You cringed. “That doesn’t sound casual at all.”

“It’s all about the tone!” Kitty explained. “Say it naturally, like you’re just making an observation.”

You sighed and cleared your throat, trying to sound confident. “Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.”

Kitty immediately burst into laughter. “Why do you sound like a robot?”

You groaned and covered your face again. “I told you I’m bad at this!”

She patted your shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s try something easier…Oh! What about smiling? When you see him, could you give him a little smile? Not too big, not too small. Just a hint of a smile.”

You nodded and tried it. Kitty examined you for a second before shaking her head. “No. That looks scary.”

“Kitty!!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just—oh wait, Jungwon’s coming!” Kitty suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

Your eyes widened in pure panic. “WHAT?!”

“Relax! Just do what we practiced!” she whispered urgently.

Jungwon walked past, glancing at the two of you. You froze utterly, your mind going blank. Then, at the last second, you remembered Kitty’s advice. You quickly straightened your posture and gave him a small smile… except you accidentally bared your teeth like an awkward grimace instead of a confident smile.

Jungwon slowed down slightly, his brows furrowing. “Uh… are you okay?”

‘’Pfft’’ Kitty covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

You, wholly mortified, quickly turned away. “Yes! Totally fine! Just… stretching my face!”

Jungwon blinked, clearly confused, before nodding slowly and walking off.

The moment he was out of sight, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kitty, I hate this.”

Kitty finally burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t your best moment, but hey! At least you tried!”

“I just embarrassed myself,” you muttered.

Kitty grinned. “Relax. Slow and steady wins the race. You’ll get there.”

You sighed, not entirely convinced, but Kitty’s encouragement made you feel slightly better. Maybe with time—and much more practice—you’d finally get the confidence you needed.

…Hopefully, before you died of embarrassment first.

💌

After your absolute disaster of a confidence practice session with Kitty, you decided there was only one solution.

Avoid Jungwon.

At all costs.

Your already massive crush on him had now turned into full-blown mortification. Every time you so much as thought about how you awkwardly bared your teeth at him, you wanted to disappear into the earth. So, naturally, when you spotted Jungwon walking down the hallway, you did what any logical person would do.

You grabbed the nearest person and used them as a human shield.

“Minho,” you hissed, ducking behind his tall frame.

Minho barely flinched while sipping on his collagen water. “Oi, what’s this then?” he drawled,

You gripped his shoulders. “I need to hide.”

Minho sighed, already used to your antics. “Lemme guess—Jungwon?”

You nodded frantically.

Minho shook his head but didn’t move. “You know, mate, you can’t keep running forever.”

“Yes, I can,” you whispered.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Minho,” Jungwon’s voice suddenly called out, catching your breath.

You peeked over Minho’s shoulder just in time to see Jungwon stopping before him, looking too good for your heart to handle.

Minho, unfazed, nodded in greeting. “Aye, mate. What’s up?”

Jungwon started talking to Minho about something you were too distracted to process. Because while he was addressing Minho, his eyes kept peeking over Minho’s shoulder—straight at you.

You immediately shrank further behind Minho.

Jungwon’s lips twitched slightly. “Hey,” he said, this time directed at you.

Your brain is short-circuited. Oh no. He’s talking to me. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Minho, ever the instigator, casually stepped to the side, exposing you completely.

You had no choice but to face Jungwon. “H-Hi,” you managed weakly.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly. “Are you hiding from me?”

“What? No! Pfft, that’s crazy,” you blurted out and laughed nervously.

Minho smirked and sipped his collagen water. “Yeah, mate, totally crazy.”

You kicked the back of Minho’s shoe.

Jungwon didn’t look entirely convinced but let it slide. “Alright,” he said before flicking his gaze back to Minho.

You thought you were in the clear—until you noticed that Jungwon kept glancing at you even as he continued his conversation with Minho. Every few seconds, his eyes would shift back to you.

It was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.

Then, as Minho made some joke in his relaxed drawl, Jungwon suddenly interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. “You don’t have to hide, you know,” he said softly.

Your heart stopped.

After thoroughly enjoying the situation, Minho took a long sip of his drink. “Oi, look at that, would ya? Some real tension here.”

You kicked him again.

Jungwon only smiled slightly before looking away as if he hadn’t just destroyed your ability to function.

And just like that, your plan to avoid him had backfired entirely.

You were so doomed.

💌

The sound of typing and the flick of pages turning was the soundtrack of your days lately. You had been buried in textbooks for what felt like forever. The stress had accumulated, leaving you exhausted. Your face was pale, and dark bags were under your eyes from the sleepless nights, but you couldn’t stop. You had to push through. A vast project was coming up, and you couldn’t afford to fail.

You propped your head up with one hand, barely able to keep your eyes open as you glanced over your notes. The words blurred, your mind already foggy from overworking. Before you knew it, your head dropped onto the table with a soft thud.

“Ugh…,” you mumbled as you fought to stay awake.

The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of footsteps entering. Kitty’s voice followed soon after. “Hey, are you still at it?”

Jungwon’s calm tone responded, “She’s been studying for hours now. I don’t think she’s taking breaks.”

You groaned, too tired to even lift your head. The sounds of them approaching grew closer until you felt the soft pressure of someone standing beside you. You sighed and tried to sit up, but the weight of your exhaustion made it hard.

As you lifted your head, you saw Kitty’s shocked expression first. She gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh! You look like you haven’t slept in days! Your face… it’s—”

You blinked slowly, too tired to defend yourself. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, attempting to give a smile, but it came out weak and crooked.

Kitty’s eyes softened with concern. “You need to take a break. Look at those bags under your eyes. Are you even eating right?”

Before you could reply, you heard Jungwon’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with your face,” he said unbothered. He bent down to your level. “You’re still pretty, even with all that stress.”

The compliment caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but blush despite how exhausted you were. “W-well, thank you…” you stammered, a little embarrassed.

Kitty rolled her eyes playfully. “See, Jungwon knows what to say! But seriously, you need to rest.” She crossed her arms, and her frown replaced her concern. “This is way too much. You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate.”

Jungwon nodded slightly. “Kitty’s right. You won’t get far if you can’t even stay awake.”

You sighed, both too tired and too embarrassed to argue. “I… I need to finish this.”

Kitty leaned closer and whispered as if sharing a secret, “How about I help you get this done faster? You can relax, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

You blinked slowly, still too drained to think straight. “Are you sure?”

She smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You need to close your eyes for a bit.”

Jungwon shot you a small and reassuring smile. “Take a break, okay? You don’t want to make yourself sick over this.”

You hesitated momentarily before nodding, grateful for their support even if you still felt guilty. You slid down in your chair, resting your head against the backrest and briefly closing your eyes.

Kitty moved to your side, pulling out her phone to check her messages. Jungwon stayed silent nearby, giving you an almost protective glance as you rested.

“Good. Now, take a nap. No more studying for the rest of the day,” Kitty said with a smile as she gave you the space to rest.

You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, hoping the rest would help ease the weight of the world you’d been carrying.

💌

You sat quietly on a chair, Minho beside you, applying your skincare. He had been your skincare mentor for a while, helping you with all the little tricks you needed. “Alright, make sure you really press it in,” Minho said, gently patting the moisturizer into your skin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever do it as well as you,” you murmured. “But thanks for teaching me.”

Minho smiled. “Of course. You’re a fast learner,” he said, dabbing the cream across your cheek. “Maybe you should start your skincare vlog or something.”

You chuckled softly, “I’d probably mess it up on camera.”

Minho shook his head and let out a grin. “You’d be perfect. Trust me.”

You both laughed; the room felt safe. There was no pressure, no expectations, just good company. Then the door creaked open, and you looked up. Jungwon stepped in, looking casual, but something about his presence made the atmosphere feel different…tense, almost.

Minho waved at him, still oblivious to the sudden shift. “Hey, Jungwon! Just helping out with her skincare. You should join us.”

You froze for a moment, catching Jungwon’s eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly looked away, too shy to hold his eyes for long.

Jungwon’s lips twitched in an almost a frown. “I’m good,” he said; his eyes were focused on you and Minho, how you both were laughing and talking comfortably.

Minho, clearly unaware of the undercurrent between the three of you, laughed again. “You sure? I think I’m pretty much a skincare pro now.” He gently patted your cheek again, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

You noticed Jungwon kept looking at your face, then back to Minho’s hand. There was a slight tension in his posture now. His arms were still crossed, and his eyes had narrowed just a little. “I think she’s got it covered,” Jungwon’s voice a little colder. “You’re always helping her with something.”

You looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as his words were uncomfortably in the air. Your heart beat faster than usual, and you were too shy to respond. Why was it that whenever Jungwon was around, you lost all ability to act normal?

Minho didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “What can I say? I’m just a helpful guy,” he replied with a wink.

Jungwon’s eyes flickered between the two of you. He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. “Well, maybe she doesn’t need that much help,” he said, a little irritated. His tone wasn’t even harsh.

You flinched slightly, but you didn’t say anything. You just sat there, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Minho noticed the shift. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop making her feel like a project,” he teased, though it was clear he was a little confused by Jungwon’s sudden change in attitude. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

You bit your lip, feeling the awkward silence settle over the room. Jungwon didn’t respond immediately; they just looked at you for a beat longer than necessary. Then he exhaled and glanced at the door. “You should probably get some rest,” Jungwon said softer now. “It’s late.”

You nodded quickly. Unsure of what to say. “Right, I’ll—uh, I’ll head to bed.”

Minho, still oblivious, smiled. “Get some sleep. We’ll finish up tomorrow.”

You nodded again, glancing briefly at Jungwon as you left. Jungwon’s voice stopped you before you could walk out. “You’re… you’re fine, right?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly while avoiding his gaze.

He nodded, then gave you an unreadable smile. “Okay,” he said before turning back to Minho.

You walked out of the room quickly,

Was that… jealousy?

That’s impossible.

💌

“You have to wear this,” Kitty declared, holding up a dress that made your stomach tense.

“Kitty, no.”

“Kitty, yes.”

You glared at her through the mirror, but she just grinned as she shoved the outfit into your hands. “Trust me,” she said. “Jungwon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

You swallowed hard at the thought. Jungwon. Seeing you. In this.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dressed up before, but this outfit felt… different. More intentional. It's more like you were trying to get his attention.

Which, okay, you were, but still—

Kitty snapped her fingers in front of your face. “No overthinking! Just wear it. Come on, it’s a party! You’re supposed to look hot.”

You groaned but ultimately let her win (not that you ever had a choice).

By the time you were ready, you were nervous to the point that you needed to go to the restroom for a second. Your reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. Kitty had curled your hair and given you subtle but effective makeup; the outfit made you feel… good.

“You look amazing,” Kitty whispered and squeezed your shoulders. “Now go show Jungwon what he’s missing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You felt a little bit braver as you followed her out.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. You weren’t even inside for a full minute before you felt the weight of someone’s eyes on you.

And when you turned—

There he was.

Jungwon.

Standing across the room, eyes locked on you with a similar unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was how his eyes slowly traveled over you before he looked away.

Kitty, standing beside you, definitely noticed.

“Oh,” she whispered and nudged you with her elbow. “He so noticed.”

You felt your face heat up.

Jungwon, however, had turned away, disappearing into the crowd before you could react.

The party was energetic, but you barely registered anything. Kitty had practically forced you into this dress, hyping you up, fixing your hair, and making you promise you wouldn’t shrink away if Jungwon talked to you.

But here he was—talking to you—and you were about two seconds from running.

“You look different.”

You looked up at him with your fingers gripping your cup tighter.

“What?”

His gaze was enough to make you feel self-conscious.

“You don’t usually dress like this,” he said.

You swallowed. “Oh. Yeah. Kitty—”

“Makes sense.”

Your brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Jungwon took a sip of his drink and then met your gaze again.

“It means you look pretty.”

If that makes sense, your brain wholly short-circuited, and you felt like your stomach was twisting again.

You needed to escape.

But the second you tried to move, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t run away,” Jungwon said softly.

You froze.

His grip wasn’t tight or forceful—just enough to hold you there, to make you look at him.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

Your throat went dry.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, “You’re always avoiding me,” he continued, “but then you’re always looking.”

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon let out a chuckle. Then, most casually, like he wasn’t wholly messing with your heart, he said—

“You don’t have to run. I don’t mind if you stay.”

You weren’t used to this—at least not with him.

“Hey,” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You were processing his words slowly. You had been avoiding him for so long, not because you didn’t like him, but because the thought of being close to him made your heart skip beats. And now, here he was, standing so close,

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze anywhere but him. The more you looked at him, the more your stomach flipped.

Jungwon’s hand fell to his side. He gave you a little space, but not enough to make you feel like he was giving up. You could tell that he wasn’t the type to give up easily. “I didn’t mean to crowd you,” he continued, understanding. “I… wanted to hang out, y’know?”

You nodded slowly, still unsure how to move past the awkward tension that had settled between you two. It was strange, feeling so seen yet so exposed. “Okay.” You took a deep breath. “I… I’m not good with all of this yet.”

Jungwon smiled at that. He didn’t push, didn’t pressure. Instead, he took a small step back, keeping a respectful distance but maintaining that comforting presence. “I get it,” he said. “But if you ever want to talk or hang out, I’m here. No rush.” He let the words hang in the air. He is willing to wait until you are ready.

You finally allowed your eyes to meet his, “Thanks,” you whispered, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t just from the proximity but from the simple kindness he showed you. He wasn’t asking for more than your comfort, making everything more manageable.

“You know,” Jungwon added, “you don’t have to hide behind Minho all the time.”

You stiffened at that, but he didn’t look at you teasingly. He was stating a fact.

Your heart fluttered.

“Well, he’s taller than me,” you mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

Jungwon chuckled.

And for once, the thought of being close to Jungwon didn’t make your heart race in fear. It made it race in something else.

Something a little more hopeful.

💌

The group had decided to take a little break from basically everything that happened, and everyone was now scattered across the dorm’s common area. Kitty and Minho were sitting on the couch, though something was different. Minho had his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa, and Kitty leaned slightly toward him, her attention entirely on whatever they were discussing.

You couldn’t help but watch, caught up in the dynamic between them. It was so apparent that they were getting close. Too close, really. You glanced at them for a few seconds longer than you probably should have, a little uncomfortable with how natural they looked together, especially considering the little tension between them.

You shook your head and sighed. “Those two should just get together already,” you muttered. “It’s painful to watch.” You didn’t even realize you had said it aloud until Jungwon, standing nearby, chuckled softly.

“You seem to be invested in their situation. ”

You froze and blushed immediately. “What? No! I—” You stammered. “It’s awkward, you know? With everything going on with Yuri and all that. It’d be easier if they just figured it out.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Sounds like you’re a little too invested,” his smirk growing.

You looked away quickly. “I’m not. I think… it’s obvious, don’t you think?”

Jungwon leaned back. “Hm. Interesting. You know, Kitty might take that as a challenge. She likes playing matchmaker.” He paused, glancing at the two on the couch before returning to you. “But then again, maybe it’s you who should be matched with someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot a look at him, trying to keep your cool. “What are you talking about?” You weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever joke or comment he was about to make.

With a shrug. “I don’t know… It’d be painful to watch you and me, right?”

You were trying to make sense of his words. Was he joking? Was he serious?

Before you could respond, Jungwon gave you a playful smile. “Well, maybe not. We’re not so bad, right?” His eyes seemed to challenge you to call him out on it.

You couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that escaped your lips. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” you said quickly. Your thoughts felt muddled, and your stomach flipped in a way you weren’t quite ready to admit.

Jungwon leaned closer just a little. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s happening between you and… well, someone, someday.”

The way he said that last part made your heart flutter, and before you could think too much about it, you quickly stood up, awkwardly brushing past him to talk to Dae. You couldn’t handle being near him anymore, not with his strange comment.

💌

It had been one of those nights where everything felt like it was building up to something. The group had decided to sneak out, and of course, Kitty had the whole thing planned out. Again. She was determined to get you and Jungwon alone for a little confession moment, even if it meant dragging everyone else into a mini adventure. The plan was simple: sneak out to the park for a midnight stroll.

The group managed to sneak out without much trouble, or so they thought. Kitty was already ahead, while Minho, Q, Dae, and Yuri followed, all too eager to escape their studies. You padded behind them. But suddenly, just as you were about to turn the corner toward the door, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

“Someone’s coming!” you hissed and panic started rising in your chest. You froze, unsure of what to do, until a pair of warm hands quickly grabbed you from behind, pulling you into the nearest room and closing the door softly.

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there. His gaze was serious momentarily before it softened into that usual mischievous smile. “Close call,” he whispered.

You sighed in relief but your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to sneak out,” you muttered.

Jungwon stepped closer, and the space between you grew smaller. “Kitty really knows how to get us into trouble, doesn’t she?” he smiled gently.

You laughed nervously. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I don’t know how she does it.” You couldn’t help but glance down. “I should probably—” you began to mumble but Jungwon interrupted you

“You don’t have to run away this time,” he murmured and you felt his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You can stay with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, and before you could even process their whole meaning, Jungwon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most gentle kiss you’d ever experienced. The world seemed to stop for a moment.

You stood there, frozen, your eyes wide in shock as Jungwon pulled back slightly, but only enough to look at you with a tender look, “You were going to say something, right?” Jungwon whispered

You were unable to form words. You couldn’t find anything to say except for the obvious truth that had been sitting in your chest for so long. “I… I’ve liked you for a while,” you finally admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t think you’d… feel the same.”

Jungwon smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. “I feel the same,” he said softly. “I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you… but I guess this is as good a time as any.”

You smiled as you leaned into him, both chuckling in silence. For the first time, it felt like the weight had been lifted, and everything had finally fallen into place.

💌

The next day, you and Jungwon walked through campus hand in hand. You didn’t care about the curious glances or whispers around you. Everything felt so natural now. Jungwon’s thumb gently brushed against your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small but significant change in your relationship.

As you turned the corner, you spotted Kitty and Q sitting at their usual spot by the fountain. They looked up at you two simultaneously, eyes widening in shock as they saw your hands intertwined. Kitty’s face immediately broke into a smile, while Q’s jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god!” Kitty squealed with her voice a few octaves higher than usual as she stood up quickly. “It’s official! You two are—?”

You giggled and nodded. “Yep, it’s real. Took us a while, but we finally figured it out.”

Q was still in shock and blinked a few times before recovering. “Wait, is this the part where you two act all coy about it?” he teased.

Jungwon chuckled and shrugged slightly as he looked down at you with an affectionate gaze. “Guess so,” he said casually. “But it feels good. Finally.”

Kitty, her excitement never waning, jumped up and clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect for each other. I mean, come on, how could you not be?”

You smiled as you felt a little shy under all their attention. “Yeah, well, it’s thanks to Kitty here,” you said, turning toward her with a grateful look. “She practically forced us to get our act together.”

Kitty just shrugged. “Hey, someone had to step in. You two were taking forever.”

You then decided to have a little fun with Q. Turning to him with a smirk; you said, “Oh, and by the way, Q, now that we’re all on the same page… maybe it’s time you and Jin finally get together.”

Kitty gasped, and Q’s face immediately turned beet red. “I—what? No! That’s—no!” he sputtered

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve noticed that too. You and Jin make a good pair,” he said honestly.

Q looked like he was about to explode, “I hate him!” he said. “You better not tell Jin I said that.”

You chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t say a thing… for now.”

Still practically bouncing with excitement, Kitty turned to Jungwon with a warm smile. “Okay, I’ll take the credit for this one,” she said with a wink. “But I’m happy you two finally figured it out.”

Jungwon gave Kitty a genuine look, squeezing your hand as he thanked her. “Honestly, thank you, Kitty. You really did help us get here.”

Kitty’s face softened and she laughed lightly. “Of course! I’m just happy to see you two so happy together.”

At that moment, everything felt perfect. You were with Jungwon and were surrounded by friends who were happy for you. It felt like the start of something new and beautiful, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything that had led up to this moment. “Alright, alright,” you said, leaning into Jungwon as you all settled back down to enjoy the rest of the day. “Let’s just say that Kitty’s matchmaking skills are unmatched.”

Kitty shot you a wink. “Told you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

[rizzanon]

Batdad brainrot

a bruce wayne and daughter! reader oneshot | m.list

Summary: your estranged father tries to connect with you in ways you didn’t expect him to

The argument had started as something small.

Bruce didn’t even remember what it was about. A minor disagreement, an offhand comment, something inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. It shouldn’t have escalated.

But it had.

And now, you weren’t speaking to him.

Well—not exactly. You weren’t avoiding him outright. You still responded when necessary, still showed up when he called, still acknowledged his presence. But it was different.

It was distant.

Mechanical.

Gone were the casual conversations, the random observations you used to share just to fill the silence. Gone were the moments when you’d tell him about something you found interesting, even when you knew he probably wouldn’t have much to say in response. Gone were the little efforts you made to connect—because no matter how much he had failed to meet you halfway, you had always tried.

And now you weren’t.

At first, Bruce Wayne had told himself it didn’t matter. That it was fine. He wasn’t someone who needed constant conversation, who thrived on interaction. He was used to silence. Preferred it, even.

But this wasn’t silence.

This was absence.

And it made something in him itch with discomfort.

Because suddenly, the manor felt empty in a way it never had before.

Bruce had never been good at fixing things that weren’t tangible.

A broken bone could be set. A wound could be stitched. A case could be solved, an enemy could be defeated, a mission could be completed. But this? This was different. There was no direct solution, no simple fix.

And he hated that.

Because every time Bruce saw you, he saw the way your shoulders stiffened. The way your expression remained carefully neutral, the way you answered only when necessary. The way you no longer sought him out, no longer attempted to start conversations, no longer tried—and the worst part was knowing that it was his fault.

He had spent so much time thinking he was protecting you by keeping his distance, by not indulging in sentimentality, by maintaining the walls he had built so carefully over the years. But all he had done was push you away.

And now, he was left with nothing but silence.

He thought about it more than he wanted to admit.

During patrol, during Justice League meetings, even when reviewing case files in the Batcave, his mind kept drifting back to the argument. Kept replaying it over and over, picking apart every word, every moment, trying to pinpoint the exact second he had gone wrong.

Bruce had always believed himself to be a man who thrived in silence. It was in silence that he observed, that he planned, that he found control.

But now, this silence—your silence—was unbearable.

He hadn’t realized just how much you filled the manor with your presence until it was gone. The absent chatter, the missing quips at the dinner table, the lack of commentary whenever you sat next to him in the Batcave, pretending to work while obviously keeping him company. You were avoiding him. Not just in passing, but with intent. And Bruce wasn’t used to that.

Bruce Wayne was many things, but when it came to being a father, he was painfully aware that he wasn’t the best. And now, that awareness was staring him in the face every time you walked past him without a word.

He didn’t realize how lost in thought he was until he felt someone watching him.

Bruce glanced up from the Batcomputer, already knowing who it was before he saw him.

Dick was leaning against the cave’s stone wall, arms crossed, brow raised. He had that look on his face—the one that meant he had been standing there for a while, the one that meant he was waiting for Bruce to acknowledge him first.

Bruce exhaled slowly. “Something you need?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Dick said, pushing off the wall and walking toward him. “You’ve been staring at the same screen for the past twenty minutes. Either you’re trying to solve the world’s hardest crime, or you’re brooding.”

Bruce frowned. “I don’t brood.”

Dick snorted. “Right. And Gotham is a peaceful city with low crime rates.”

Bruce ignored that.

There was a beat of silence before Dick leaned against the Batcomputer, tilting his head slightly. “So? What’s up?”

Bruce hesitated.

For a moment, he considered brushing it off. Telling him it was nothing. That he was just tired, or distracted, or caught up in work. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew Dick wouldn’t buy it.

And… maybe a part of him didn’t want to brush it off.

So, with some reluctance, he told him.

And by the time he was done, Dick was looking at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dick said, arms crossed as he leaned against the Batcomputer. “You and (Name) got into an argument. She’s now giving you the silent treatment. And you’re freaking out.”

Bruce gave him a look. “I’m not—”

“Bruce,” he said slowly, “do you hear yourself right now?”

Bruce frowned. “…Yes?”

Dick exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re overthinking this.”

“I’m aware that’s what I do.”

“Yeah, with cases. Not with your daughter.”

Bruce didn’t respond, but the way his jaw tightened must have said enough, because Dick sighed and shook his head.

“There you go again,” he muttered. “Overanalyzing, scrutinizing, looking for some grand strategy when there isn’t one. She’s not you, Bruce. She doesn’t think like you, doesn’t work like you. So stop putting on the whole ‘Bruce Wayne’ act and trying to figure this out like it’s just another mission. Instead of thinking about how you would approach this, think about how she would.”

Bruce went still.

And just like that, his mind started turning again.

But this time, it wasn’t in the way he usually did.

This time, he wasn’t analyzing things from his own perspective—he was trying to see it from yours.

And that… changed things.

Over the next few days, Bruce found himself researching in a way he never had before.

He had read entire psychological profiles on some of the most complex minds in history. He had deciphered alien languages. He had cracked codes that entire intelligence agencies had failed to solve.

And yet nothing—nothing—prepared him for this.

It started with subtle observations. He paid closer attention to the things you watched, the things you laughed at, the things you scrolled through on your phone. He noted the words and phrases you used, the memes you sent in group chats (not that he snooped—he just happened to see them in passing), the trends you occasionally mentioned in conversation with your brothers and sister.

Then came the actual research.

Bruce Wayne was a detective. A strategist. A man who could crack the most encrypted codes, uncover the deepest secrets, solve the most impossible mysteries.

So surely, surely, understanding Gen Z slang couldn’t be that difficult.

He was wrong.

At first, it was just simple terminology. He started with the basics—words like “rizz,” “mid,” “slay,” and “delulu.” But then he found himself spiraling into deeper territory, encountering phrases that made absolutely no logical sense. “Ate and left no crumbs”? “Touching grass”? “Gyatt”?

What the hell was a “skibidi toilet”? Why was “no cap” a thing? Why did “mid” sound like an insult? What was the difference between “based” and “cringe”? Why did some of these phrases feel like they were meant to be grammatically incorrect?

He had never felt older in his entire life.

But Bruce wasn’t deterred. If anything, the confusion only made him more determined.

So, he studied. He took notes. He tried to analyze sentence structures, context, and usage patterns. He even ventured onto TikTok, only to be immediately bombarded with an overwhelming amount of fast-paced videos, most of which he did not understand.

But he persisted.

His first attempt at incorporating this newfound knowledge into conversation came during dinner.

The table was mostly silent—just the occasional clink of silverware, the occasional page turn from Tim’s book, the occasional soft exhale from Cassandra.

You were sitting across from Bruce, scrolling through your phone, expression unreadable.

And Bruce, in a desperate attempt to bridge the gap that had grown between you, cleared his throat and said, “So… I hear that a lot of things are… bussin’ nowadays.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Tim looked up from his book, squinting in suspicion. Damian paused mid-bite, staring as if Bruce had grown a second head.

And you?

You just slowly lifted your eyes from your phone, staring at your father with the most deadpan, unreadable expression he had ever seen.

“…What?” you asked flatly.

Bruce maintained his composure. “I was simply acknowledging that many things these days are… as you would say, based….?”

Your stare somehow became more bewildered.

“Father,” Damian said, voice wary. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Tim looked vaguely concerned. “Did you hit your head during patrol?”

Bruce frowned. “No. I—”

But before he could even attempt to recover, you sighed, shook your head, and went right back to your phone.

Bruce realized, then and there, that his first attempt had been a complete failure

So, he regrouped.

His second attempt happened in the Batcave.

You had come downstairs to grab something, and that’s when you saw it—Bruce sitting at the Batcomputer, scrolling.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Until you got closer.

And realized that your father was—oh god—scrolling through TikTok.

“…Dad.” you said slowly.

Bruce stiffened.

When he turned, there was a brief moment where he looked like he was debating whether or not to close the tab. But then, after a second of hesitation, he exhaled and faced you fully.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” he said seriously.

You raised a brow. “Okay?”

Bruce turned back to the screen.

“Why,” he starts, “do so many of these… influencers believe that Batman is an alpha male?”

You blinked.

He gestured toward the screen, where a video was paused on some random guy in sunglasses talking about “how Batman embodies the peak sigma mindset.”

“They claim that I—he—operates on some kind of grindset mentality,” Bruce continued, sounding vaguely irritated. “That the reason Batman fights crime is due to some misguided sense of superiority rather than a moral obligation. Some of them even say he ‘gives off major red pill energy.’”

You cringed.

Bruce’s frown deepened. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “B, please stop scrolling on that side of TikTok.”

“I didn’t intend to,” Bruce said. “It just happened to appear on my feed while I was doing research.”

“…Research?”

“For… communication purposes.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What kind of communication purposes?”

Bruce hesitated.

And then, in what was possibly the most botched attempt at Gen Z slang to ever exist, he slowly said, “I’m just trying to… get that W… and not be an L father. No cap.”

Silence.

Pure, unfiltered, incomprehensible silence.

You stared at him, utterly speechless.

Bruce held your gaze, waiting.

Tim, who had just entered the cave, immediately turned around and left.

It took a full ten seconds for you to finally find your voice.

“…What the actual fuck did you just say?”

“Language.”

You were baffled. Was your father hearing what he was saying??

Before you could respond, an alert suddenly blared through the Batcomputer, signaling an Arkham breakout.

And just like that, he was saved by the bell.

Bruce quickly turned back to the screen, scanning the situation, already shifting into mission mode. But before he left, he spared you one last glance.

And, in what was perhaps his most disastrous attempt yet, he said,

“Stay woke.”

Then, without another word, he swept out of the cave.

Leaving you standing there, completely and utterly at a loss for words.

You had no idea what the hell just happened.

And honestly? You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

But the next day, Bruce made one last attempt.

Bruce Wayne had faced some of the most dangerous criminals in the world. He had been thrown through walls, stabbed, shot at, and even died once (technically). He had outmaneuvered gods, masterminds, and creatures of the night.

And yet, standing outside your bedroom door, debating whether or not to knock, he found himself hesitating.

This was ridiculous.

He shouldn’t feel hesitant about this. He was your father. He had faced literal apocalypses without flinching—why was it so difficult to face you?

Was it because of his failed attempts at getting through to you these past few days?

Probably.

But he had committed to this. He wasn’t going to back down now.

So he took a deep breath, steeled himself, and knocked on your door.

A pause.

Then—“Come in.”

He opened the door, stepping inside with careful, measured movements. His eyes swept over the room instinctively, cataloging every detail—your posture, your expression, the way your fingers curled slightly where they rested on your crossed arms.

You were stiff, but not defensive. Guarded, but not hostile.

Not angry. Not anymore.

But you were distant. And that was worse.

Bruce had always relied on presence—on being there, on the sheer weight of existence as a means of maintaining connection. But now he understood that presence wasn’t the same as attention.

He hadn’t given you that. Not the way you had given it to him. Not the way you deserved.

Bruce cleared his throat, trying to find the words. “I…. would like to formally apologize for being the… goat of bad parenting. That was not very…. rizz of me.”

You blinked.

What?

A slow, deliberate blink, your expression frozen in something between shock and utter disbelief.

Bruce noted the way your brows twitched slightly, the way your lips parted just enough to indicate that you had words but were currently incapable of forming them.

Good. That meant you were listening.

He continued, tone steady. “I have, in fact, been caught in 4K being a cringe father. And that’s on me. Major L.”

The silence that followed was excruciating.

You tilted your head ever so slightly, like you were trying to determine if this was some elaborate joke.

Maybe it did seem like that to you.

Bruce pressed forward. “No cap, I have been acting incredibly mid. Probably even giga-mid.”

Still silence.

The twitch in your eye was microscopic but noticeable. The corner of your mouth jerked—barely, almost imperceptibly, but Bruce caught it.

He nodded, as if steeling himself, mentally adjusting his approach. “This whole situation has been, dare I say… a ratio.”

That was what did it.

You snorted.

A small sound, abrupt, barely audible—but it was real.

Encouraging. He could work with this.

“I have realized,” he said solemnly, “that I have been lacking fatherly rizz. A skill issue, if you will.”

Your entire body curled inward as you let out a strangled, disbelieving laugh, hands flying to cover your face as if that would somehow make this entire situation less insane.

Bruce analyzed every detail—the way your shoulders shook, the way your hands trembled slightly as you pressed them against your face, the way you leaned just a fraction forward, no longer so closed off.

Progress.

Finally, gasping for breath, you looked at him with pure horror. “Dad. Please tell me you’re not serious.”

“I am always serious,” Bruce said gravely. “This is an earnest attempt at slayful parenting.”

You made a sound that could only be described as a dying gremlin noise.

Bruce noted the way you hunched further over, like your body was physically rejecting what was happening, and yet—you were still laughing.

You peeked up again, eyes shining with barely restrained mirth. “Dad, what the hell are you saying?”

He furrowed his brows. “Am I not eating right now?”

You lost it again.

Bruce waited patiently as you continued to laugh into your hands.

Finally, wiping at your eyes, you shook your head. “Oh my god, Dad. What is this. Did Alfred put you up to this?”

“No,” Bruce said. “This was all Dick’s idea, somewhat.”

“Of course it was,” you groaned, still grinning. “I knew he was behind this somehow.”

Bruce hesitated, then walked over, sitting at the edge of your bed.

He saw it in the way you met his eyes, in the way your posture was looser, in the way you were actually looking at him now, rather than through him.

“I’m sorry.”

Your smile dimmed, just slightly. “…For what?”

“For the argument, for not listening. And for not being as emotionally available as I should be.”

You searched his face.

Bruce let you.

You studied him, guarded again. But then—softer, you asked, “Why are you trying now?”

“Because you tried first,” Bruce admitted. “And I never met you halfway.”

That got you.

He saw it in the flicker of your expression, in the way your fingers twitched slightly, in the way your gaze softened just enough for him to catch it.

Then, after a long moment, you huffed. “…Is that why you were acting so weird these past few days?”

Bruce nodded. “I will admit… it was incredibly painful.”

You laughed again, but it was softer now. Easier.

Bruce felt something in his chest loosen.

You sighed, stretching your arms behind your head. “…Fine. I forgive you. But please—never say fatherly rizz again.”

Bruce placed a hand on his chest. “I make no promises.”

You groaned dramatically, flopping onto your bed.

But you were smiling.

And for Bruce, that was more than enough.

literally based off my parents trying to act like they understand gen z slang infront of me and my sister LOL 😭 hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality @shirp-collector-of-fixations @gneepgnorpsneepsnorp @skerbablo | ask to be added <3

[rollingeevee]

good god your bite post has invaded my mind and it hasn't left since i read it, it's spinning in my brain like in a microwave

all i can think about is shadow milk's little (prey) lover running away and getting somewhat far, thinking they're actually getting away with it until the bite's effects kick in and suddenly it's so hard to think and move and where were they going anyway? what if they just sat down and stared into space for a while? that would feel nice, right?

the magic oozing from the bite squeezing their brain and soul, making everything feel heavy and fuzzy until shadow milk just strolls by, clicks his tongue, teases them a little for trying to leave and goes to pick them up and bring them back

there's no kicking and screaming, they cannot muster up the mental strength to do it, just slight bitter resignation on their part as they can do nothing but accept their fate and perhaps try again at a later date but there's a little voice at the back of their head that doesn't understand why they were running away in the first place, a voice that urges them to melt into their captor's touch (totally not shadow milk's doing guys no it's all you)

mental and magical manipulation? it's more likely than you think!

bonus points if the bite mark's pain gets duller/softer when they behave for their beast

anyway thank you for sharing your thoughts your writing is amazing and if you have more ideas related to the bites i am begging i am on my knees-

AAAAAA I’m so glad to hear you liked it so much! 😭 /VVVPOS

Ooooooo! I quite like this! I can definitely see smth similar happening! Personally tho, I see Shadow Milk taking a more manipulative approach to when he finds his lil runaway darling again. I wrote a lil blurb below to showcase :)

The further you got from the Spire, the more relief you felt. By the Witches… you’d done it! You were free!

You suddenly let out a choked gasp as you feel an incredibly painful tightening sensation in your chest. You fall to your knees, clutching at your heart. Your mind is empty as your body feels like it is being squeezed, your breath continuously escaping, despite your desperation to pull in air.

“Oh, goodness!” You hear his voice exclaim. “What happened to you, doll?”

What happened? What happened?! What… what did happen…? You were running… Yes, you were running from the Spire! But… why…?

Shadow Milk Cookie tuts sympathetically as he gently scoops you into his arms. “Oh, poor dear… Did you get lost? I told Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie to keep an eye on you and ensure your safety!” He cradles you close to his chest as he makes his way back to the Spire. “Don’t worry, dollface~ Your darling jester, Shadow Milk Cookie, has arrived to save the day! I’ll make sure to get you back home where you belong in no time!” He finishes his declaration with a sweet kiss to your neck, where you can faintly detect a throbbing pain that seems to ease in response to his affection.

Where you belong…? Yes… Yes, right back where you belong… That’s a nice thought…

So why is your heart crying out that something is wrong…?

WEEEEEE! So yes, I can definitely see manipulation being there (it’s Shadow Milk, whaddya expect?), but I can see the magic from the bite invading the mind as it simultaneously attacks the body. You weren’t running for freedom, you just got lost while playing a game. Luckily, your sweet Beast, Shadow Milk Cookie, was able to find you in time before anything terrible could happen to you~! So stay, where it’s safe, and where you’re always within arms reach~

In addition to that, I love the idea of the pain getting duller and duller the more a Beast’s darling behaves for them! I added onto that a lil and made it so that, in addition to that, the only other way for the pain to dull is from direct affection to the bite area by the Beast. This gives further incentive to the darling to be well behaved and compliant for their Beast.

I may try to do lil snippets or one shots for each of the Beasts and their bites going into effect later on, given how much people seemed to like them, but we’ll see! I hope you enjoyed this tho! :D

[fanzou]

I Can Love You

♡ A Valentine’s Special

✗ Pairing: Law Trafalgar x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: You insist that Nico Robin is the right one for him, but he wants to show you why you’re wrong.

✗ Total WC: 6.5K

✗ CW: SMUT! Reader is a little jeeeeelly of Robin and Law’s friendship, reader is also a Straw Hat, LAW HAS A BIG DICK, p in v sex, Law teases too much [let me know if I missed any]

✗ A/N: Enjooooooy!

“You know I was thinking,” you start, and he's ready to rolls his eyes. “Robin and you’d make a great couple.”

Even though he was facing the opposite direction of you, you can tell Law’s face was littered in a scowl.

After spending over 2 weeks with him, he was easier to read. It came with its perks and, well, Law was Law and there wasn’t much else.

“And why’s that?” He feigns interest in what you say, raising his head in your direction while throwing the blood littered gauze pads in the trash can next to the desk. “I think you both would complement each other pretty well. She’s quiet, you’re quiet, she’s pretty wise, you are too.” You pause for a moment, then continue, “She’s also very gorgeous.” You wiggle your eyebrows, with a mischievous look.

“I suggest you take care of those wounds on your body before you worry about who I should or shouldn’t be with.”

Known for your blunt and straightforward manner—he respected it, in truth—pirates weren’t known to talk so formally amongst each other anyways, but this, he would be lying straight out of his teeth had he said he wasn’t taken aback by today’s new invasive question you’d ask him. You’ve said some weird things, never anything about his love life—which was… nonexistent, in your own words.

And yes, you make that very clear to him. A lot.

He looks over to you with your finger to your chin as if deep in thought, like you Straw Hats even had anything to give thought toanyway, and you finally speak, "Yeah... she might be too good for you. Scratch the thought."

He chuckles, “You wound me.”

“But if you had to choose from any woman in your entire life to ever marry, who would you choose?” And he has to remind himself that you are completely and entirely under the influence of painkillers, otherwise he would have mistook you for a 5-year-old with the way the question was structured.

“Definitely not you.”

“Law!” You pout. He makes sure that his back is facing you again so he could sneak in a little smile. “That’s actually a good thing. I’m out of your league.”

He turns around to look at you, hand on his heart, “My heart truly cannot take anymore heartbreak.” He says in the most monotone voice you’ve ever heard from him.

For most, it was weird that you were left behind by your captain, but in this case—and with a whole lot of begging from the Straw hat himself—you were rushed to Law’s medical aid. Mindlessly running into battle to protect your friends from a life or death situation wasn’t so appealing when you had to face the consequences for the next month.

But you insisted that you didn’t regret your decision if it meant that everyone was safe; or in Law’s words, you were just careless and dumb.

Even though Luffy himself had to be pried away from your side by the swordsman and the cook while you were unconscious for the first few days, Law had explained to you that they had to get a move on (In your crews complete and utter reluctance) for the next up and coming battle when you came to. And when you found out, you were a bit upset to be parted away from them, but quickly found comfort in Law's presence while you were bed-ridden, cracking jokes about how you’d call him captain until your time was up on his submarine.

He looks over to your bandaged condition, high off your ass, and he almost wants to laugh. Even in your drugged out state, you talk about your friends in such high regard, and try playing wingman with him.

You disrupt the comfortable silence while he looks over some of the stuff on his desk, “You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m feeling much better. Y’think I can go back on my own ship yet?” You’re already stretching your arms out. He calls your name with his signature “-ya” attached to it in a scolding manner, “What did I say about moving?” Damn Straw hat.

You immediately deflate and look down, “You’re not letting me do anything. I feel fine.”

“It feels that way until you move a little too much and start to open your wounds again, give it another week and we’ll see how you’re doing.” He’s looking through some pages on his desk. “We can go on another walk tomorrow if you really wanna move that badly.”

“Thank you, Cap!” You beam at him, he feels his heart jump a little bit.

-

Another week has passed and you’re itching to go back to your found family. It’s been this way for the past three weeks, but as the month goes by, you’d just grow more and more eager.

You made him question why he was even doing this often times.

He was a little offended by your verbalized pleas to get out of here, like he wasn’t helping you. In his own little ways, he tried satiating your boredom by doing things that were almost out of character for someone such as himself. He’d even let you tell him about your fellow crew members to make you a little happier.

You’d talk about Luffy quite often, maybe because he knew him way better than anyone else.

You talked about Robin and Nami as well, about how you felt like they were the sisters you never had growing up, about how close you were to them, about how you each met, he was almost sick of how much you talked about them. But if it meant that you were doing okay then that was all that mattered.

Is that why you said that thing a couple weeks ago? About Nico-ya? There was a sincerity in your voice. Robin was a beautiful woman just as you proclaimed, she was around his age, and all the things you said about her held truth.

Maybe it was true—Nico Robin was the woman perfectly crafted for him. And he couldn’t deny her beauty.

He brushes his hand over his face--maybe out of confusion or frustration, he can't decide. But he hated the conflicting feelings that resided in his mind, they made no sense. He never had an issue with women. He didn't want to.

From the day he met you, his beating heart understood an appeal his mind couldn't, you had an annoying personality. You made dumb decisions. You said things too brutally. You never thought about yourself and it was bound to get you killed one way or another. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been spending extra time with you and getting way too familiar with you, but he’s letting himself enjoy it far too much. And he doesn’t know how he’d feel once you parted your ways. He’s never been this close to a woman before, be it the lack of female subordinates on his ship, or his lack of intimacy with just about everyone, it’s a lot for him.

When he has his arm on your hip to assist you in walking and you have yours on his shoulder, he feels his heart rate picking up a little more.

Sometimes when you get tired you beg him to carry you back to your room, he pretends that he hates it, as he leans over for you to get on his back.

And the first week was hell for him when he had to wash you, because bloodied bath and scars aside, your body was beautiful. Every inch of it. He didn't want to be a pervert. He kept chanting the words; this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship in his head when his mind almost slipped to unholy places. If you weren’t in so much pain at the time you’d probably have teased him for how red he looked.

But right now you seem fine, and you and Law (sometimes Bepo) have been going on walks around the submarine every morning now to get you used to physical activity again, you fall into the routine pretty quickly and you don’t seem as depressed as the first few days you were here.

A day ago the submarine ascended out of the water and met with dry land. He was conflicted in telling you— he didn’t know how you’d react. You’re in a completely different place now, different from where you were almost a month ago, it must've be a little weird to come outside after 3 weeks.

It was something that Chopper was extremely adamant on, only because he knew your tendency to wander and extreme desire to explore anywhere you went. You were quite the adventurous one, which is why the Straw Hat himself was probably so upset over your departure.

He sits next to you in a chair from your bed, mentally preparing himself and thinking on how he’d formulate the way he would go about telling you.

Would you stay by his side? Would you immediately go someplace else, and without him?

You’re sat upright in the bed waiting for what he had to say, “We’ll be getting some stock in this new place and I want you to come with us. Just to see how you do.” Your eyes get wider with every word that comes after the next, and you’re smiling. You hadn’t smiled this hard ever since you got here.

What he doesn’t expect, is you to throw yourself onto him. “Thank you Law! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Your embrace is warm, and easy to get lost in and he refuses to let himself have that pleasure. "Do they have a carnival? Can we go out to eat?"

He rests his hand on your waist in an effort to pull you off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, you just got your stitches off.” And he does well to hide the small smile that starts to form.

-

Law insists that you have to be with him, no questions asked.

If not him, then Bepo—the usual routine. It kinda made you mad, I mean, why not go with the other crew mates? You needed the new faces, but he insisted that he wasn’t as confident in their skills to take care of you versus his. Bepo was far more comfortable to be with given his warm and fuzzy embrace. And you envied the captain for having him be apart of the Heart pirates instead of the Straw hats.

You’re excited to finally go out and enjoy the traditions of this new place, you’re wearing a tight dress that looks almost too good on you.

You made a joke to him earlier and told him you were surprised that he didn’t make you wear one of his jumpsuits the rest of the crew worse, then you’re calling him Captain Law to egg on the joke further. All he does is tsk and roll his eyes, like all the time. But you can tell he’s gotten more comfortable with you, and you appreciated it.

Anyway, the town’s food was delectable, you grab some food to-go and eat it while taking a stroll through the busy streets, the smell of more food, presumably some fresh-baked bread met your nostrils and you sighed out of pure satisfaction.

Your partner, on the other hand, all but scowled.

Which gave you an idea.

“Law, let’s go try some bread. I bet they have it freshly baked the way it smells so good.” You hang off of his arm to try and get him to come with you. And he swears the close proximity shouldn’t make him feel weird. He’s been much closer and he’s seen you in much more vulnerable circumstances, but this was different.

He kinda regrets telling you about the bread thing.

“C’moooonnn, you’re a liar if you say you hate bread.” You’re pulling him by his arm now, insisting on getting him into the bakery to try some sweet bread. “I never said I hated it, I said I didn’t like the taste.” This is practically a push and pull game now, “People are looking at us. We’re keeping a low profile, remember?”

You pull away from him in complete and utter defeat and tuck your hands over your chest.

He doesn’t want to miss your touch, but once again, his heart betrays him. “You’re no fun.”

He doesn’t have to miss the skinship for long, almost instantly you’re body is hanging back off of his bicep, talking about the next subject of your absolute fascination, which now happened to be a huge teddy bear plushy that was on display at a ‘convenience’ store. Not only are you closer to him but he can feel your breasts pushing onto his arm. He shudders.

And he tries remaining calm and reminding himself to not be a pervert, you always did this. You always touched him, he touched you. You were doing this as a means for support to walk better (even though you’ve been walking fine for a while now). That’s it.

You interrupt the awkward silence between you two before he starts to feel the immense guilt come over him and he thanks you in his head. His very perverted head. “I feel so much better now that we’re on land again, I feel like I haven’t had fresh air my whole life.” You breathe in and breathe a heavy breath out. “You’re exaggerating, you were on deck not too long ago.”

Your next movement makes him tense, you lay your head on top of his tattooed shoulder. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Law.” And give his captured arm a little squeeze, inevitably making him feel your breasts so much more.

He wants to die.

Collecting himself, he clears his through, “You’re making it seem like this is a date. I’m just here to monitor your progress.” He looks at you then looks ahead.

“Why can’t it be a date?” You ask him, still hanging off of his arm.

If you didn’t feel him tense then, it was especially obvious now. And he was trying to mask how weird he felt when you said that, but every part of him felt really hot, and he prayed that his cheeks weren’t tomato red right now.

“Aww! Look at them, young love, huh?”

“Ooooh, they’re an attractive couple…”

“They’re so cute!”

He calls your name a little coldly, “Get off of my shoulder, you’re sending people the wrong message.” He actually didn’t mind it, but he swears he might die if he feels your breast push up on him one more time. “Sorry…” So you withdraw your body completely from his, (which he totally doesn’t regret at all) and you start your walk with him again, minus your body on his this time.

Letting your eyes wander once again and away from Law, you settle on a trinket store, and the idea of buying Usopp a little gift pops into your head immediately. Just because.

You walk into the store full of weird things galore. You settle on a super shiny thing first and when you pick it up, the salesmen is immediately by your side, “This is a one of a kind (doo-hicky) which can only be found on this here island! (you saw this thing at the convenience store as well) Usual price would be 20,000 berries, but for your pretty little self, I’ll make it 19!”

“Yeah, no.” He immediately deflates.

You continue your walk through the store and not shortly after you land on something that you immediately found more intriguing than the last.

“Law look at this! You would love this!” You turn around,

But there’s just one problem.

Law isn’t with you anymore.

Oh.

And when you wave the salesmen off empty-handed, he seems a little angered but bids his goodbye and fake come again! as well. You look towards the street and it seems like it’s gotten busier.

“Law’s going to kill me!”

You try fishing through the crowd and scanning for a white spotted hat, or fuzzy white fur, but everyone looks plain and simple. Which makes you think about how you guys kinda stick out like sore thumbs… anyway.

You search and search until you find that signature hat you’re looking for, excuse yourself in between what felt like hundreds of strangers and you catch up to him. You grab his hand in excitement, “Law!” Only for it to be quickly taken back, it was a stranger, with eyes that you’re sure could burn holes into you. You say your little sorry and resume your search.

After a long period of searching you’re drained, physically and mentally. You’re sure that if he found you he’d probably strap you down to your bed and not let you leave.

Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.

You’re defeated, extremely, entirely. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been outside like this for what felt like forever, maybe it was the fact that the sun was setting now, or even maybe it was ‘cause you needed Law with you the most right now. You find a near bench and just sit.

And maybe that exhaustion finally got the better of you, because you swore you could see his big muscular tattooed figure paired with Bepo's white fur walking towards you as you dose off into a really, really nice sleep.

-

The sound of one—no, two muffled voices wake you from your slumber, your vision is blurry, and if you were right about him saving you, you could hear what you assume to be Law’s medical instruments clacking together. A sound you’ve grown all too familiar with.

“Captain, you don’t think that’s a little harsh?”

“Do you see what she pulled out there?”

Bepo is silent for a bit, then sighs, “If you think it’s best for her.” He leaves the room on his own accord, leaving just you and the very scary man alone.

“I know you’re up.” He calls you with a firmness in his tone.

Much to your unwillingness, you sit up straight, tail between your legs. He looked a bit unkempt, and you couldn't pinpoint if it was because of you or something else. In whatever way, you felt a little guilty.

“Just plain reckless and obnoxious.” He towers over you, “I have a job to complete, and that requires you being taken care of.”

He's pacing around in your room-- the room, of his ship. Not yours. You've never seen him like this. Like he was distressed. He stills and looks at you.

“You’re not coming out the rest of the week. You can wait until Straw Hat comes and picks you up.”

“What am I, a child?" You swing your legs around to meet the floor and pick yourself up.

"With the shit you just pulled, maybe."

With a scoff, "That's low, even for you, Law. It was an honest mistake and you're making it seem like I almost got us killed? You knew what you were getting into when you took me out!" you pinch your nose in a mix of frustration and some previous dizziness. "Sorry I can't be like Robin!"

Huh? Like who?

He immediately looks at you, and sees a little a tiny but of regret in your face. Like you had just got caught with a big secret.

Well maybe, that’s what it was.

“What is your deal with me and your crew mate, huh?”

Your confident demeanor is quick to fade away and if he didn’t know better, he would say that you were almost a bit embarrassed now. He really couldn’t tell what it was. You weren’t angry anymore, that was for certain. You’re not looking at him with those harsh eyes, you’ve been reduced to silence.

It makes him think a bit. He says your name in an attempt to get you to look at him and he succeeds.

“You wouldn’t happen to be…”

“Jealous?”

If there was ever a more dramatic gasp, it certainly couldn’t have topped the one that just came out your mouth. “How dare you! Not one bit!” Suddenly he has this new profound confidence to him, and his frustrations suddenly wiped clean off his mind. He looks at you with his grin all-knowing, and by God you hated when he did that. You wish you could have wiped it off and smacked it off of him.

“So explain to me, what’s the point of mentioning her again?” You don’t realize it, but he’s inching a bit closer while you’re avoiding any and all contact with him, you’re red. Red all over. Cheeks, ears, neck—everywhere. And you don’t know what to do with your hands, you can feel them collect sweat now. You don’t know why. Because his accusation was false.

He’s in front of you now.

“W-What are you doing? Law?” You scan his face because his stare down is relentless and unforgiving, and his hand finds its way up your neck and soon your chin. He’s awfully quiet. It’s unsettling. You put your hands on his chest to hopefully put a halt in the proximity. “Can you please te—”

His mouth is on yours. It’s a little shocking at first but you’re not pulling away.

And you don’t remember closing your eyes and snaking your hands around his neck, and pulling him in, but you do. His own tattooed hands found caressing your body. And the kiss was really, really passionate. He didn’t think it was gonna be this good, but he was wrong.

He was always wrong about you. Wrong about how he didn’t think you were right for him, wrong about your personality, attitude, everything. He really wanted to stay wrong until you would leave and he’d hardly have to see you again. He’s almost pissed he’s letting himself bask in your warmth and intimacy.

But now that he has it, he can’t go without it.

Few words are exchanged, but what he can do is guide you and put you back on your bed with your lips barely still connected trying to reach for each others and you think to yourself, for a man who claims to not have had so much going on in his love life he sure was skilled in whatever this was. He doesn’t want to take them off of yours. He can’t now. Your hands are under his shirt caressing every part of his torso. The feeling of his abs turned you on so much more and you felt your cunt throb a bit. You were aching for his body and he could tell, he takes his lips off yours with a whine from you that follows suit and immediately licks, sucks and kisses your neck, your audible satisfaction letting him know that he’s made you feel great.

“I need you… so bad.” You say in between huffs.

“How can I be so sure you deserve it?” He gets up, and takes his body off of yours, lips glossy. “How do I know that you won’t pass out on me, either?” He disguises his slight worry in a taunting statement, he’d try being as gentle as possible but he couldn’t make any promises.

“I won’t do that, and please Law. It was a mistake, honest. I need you inside. I wanted this so bad. Please!” You tug him by his shirt, urging him to come back down, he doesn’t. He thinks on your words a bit. You wanted this just as much as he did.

“Take your clothes off.”

He laughs at the very quick work you make of taking every single article of clothing, save for your bra and panties, off. There it was, the very image that kept him up for nights, shamefully touching himself to the thought of you on top of him, and him on top of you. Soon he joins, dropping his shirt and jeans and all else except his boxers, to the floor. He returns to your neck, his body on top of yours and you can feel his clothes dick pressing onto your clit ever so slightly, it draws a shaky breath out of you. “Do you know what you do to me?” He slides down your bra to continue his trail of kisses and licks on your nipples. “And you’re worrying about someone else. You’re so pathetic.” You arch impossibly closer into him and start to buck your hips into his crotch.

“Need it sooo bad, put it inside me already, pleaaaaase!” His dick is throbbing in his boxers now. He shakes his head “You’re not prepped.”

“I’m wet enough, please baby. I need you inside of me.” You claw at his chest in an attempt to get what you want.

But he refuses, he can’t. He goes down on you anyways, taking off your panties and the string of wetness that connected from your underwear to your cunt validated your statement. This was straight out of one of his wet dreams; you sprawled out and begging to be filled with his aching cock. He wanted more than anything to make you beg for him like your life depended on it to carry out the fantasy but, he was afraid he was just as desperate as you were right now. He continued and gently presses your legs up, swiping his thumb across your slit to test the waters (literally), your slick gathered onto his thumb and made a great lubricant, but he still wanted to make you feel good.

He licks his thumb clean and settles between your legs and gives your throbbing heat a few lips and sucks on your clit. He can feel you shake underneath him, and he separates your legs by your inner thighs to get a better angle.

The image in front of you made you hot, that’s all you could say about it. It made you hot and shaky and you thought you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you soon, Law hears your pleas, and to temporarily compensate for it, he sticks two fingers into you while he’s practically making out with your clit. You look down with an almost drowsy expression, your moans get so much louder but you don’t even care anymore. He was sexy and he was eating you out. That would be your excuse to anyone who dared to get too close to the door.

His two fingers were pretty big enough to even cause you a bit of trouble alone, and his constant prodding and scissoring made you seethe a bit, but you didn’t care because the pain and the pleasure mixed together made you feel the growing orgasm in your stomach. You shout his name, “I’m gonna— I’m g-gonna cum… mmm~” your whines and moans are breathy.

But he pulls away, and you look to him in shock. He gets up from his position and he’s on his knees in front of you, and he’s threatening the hem of his boxers, you quickly forget about your failed orgasm, knowing the main course was yet to come.

It almost feels like when he pulls down his boxers, time is in slow motion. Maybe because you wanted him extra due to the lack of action you were getting, and your inability to masturbate for the longest time, were you so eager to get him in your pants, nothing prepared you for when he pulled down his underwear.

And now you understood why he wanted to prepare you.

When he pulled them down, his cock shot right up and bounced a little bit before it was like it was staring right at you. You gulp. Because that’s all you could do. And you didn’t even want to look at Law in the eye because you know he was gonna give you some smug and shitty smirk. Like a hypnosis, you get in position and spread your legs further.

“You ready?” He puts one arm next to your head and crouches down a little bit, you can’t even speak. You just hum. You’re expecting him to get it over with, but now he’s just stroking your slit with that absolute beast, “You sure you’re ready?” And now you’re forced to look away from the heavenly scene and into his dumb and beautiful eyes.

“W-What was I saying for like the past 10 minutes? Put it in!” He only chuckles at how you jump at him, demanding him like you have any control. So he slides it in, head only. With your hand on his bicep, digging nails as you’re squeezing him both down there and with your hand that looks for some kind of help in his arm.

He removes his hand that pushes his cock inside and rests in on your chin to bring your eyes up to him, the action was so gentle it could’ve made you forget what was just going down. “Just look at me.” It makes your heart flutter.

And while you do, you feel so much better about the monster that’s sliding into you inch by inch. You furrow your eyebrows at him and chant his name like some sort of ritual. He’s almost all the way in, and the beads of tears in the corner of your eyes make him twitch inside of you with a groan. He looks at you like you hold the answer the all of his problems, like he just wants to be here with you only, and that’s exactly what it was. Like he’d pass away peacefully if it meant he passed away in between your legs.

Once he bottoms out, he stays there a little bit. He gives your lips a quick kiss before he moves into you, elbows on each side of your head. Each thrust is more powerful than the last, and he mentally curses at himself for not removing your bra so that he could see your tits jump freely. You’re on a different planet at this point, nothing has ever felt better. You look into his eyes, then down at what’s connecting you and you swear you could cum right there.

“‘F-Feels… so… good. Hah…” his thrusts find a comfortable pace now, “I feel full and good. Thank yoooouuummmm!” This is what you had been reduced to, thanking him for fucking you.

“Such a fuckin’ slut. Maybe I should keep you all to myself. For good.” His thrusts pick up a little bit now, “Straw Hat’s gonna have to fight me for this.” You whine in response. It took pretty quick for you to start to get cock-drunk off of him. He didn’t take you for the overly sensitive type but here you were, begging him and thanking him for some dick. He would so use that against you later.

He kisses you again, and he’s settled into you a whole lot more. The position changed a little for his body to be closer to yours, and almost in an instant does your skin start slapping against each other. You were a moaning mess, the new position held so much intimacy and so much of him was on you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t stop. I’m almost there, I need it. Need it so bad. Let me have it!”

“Beg a little more.”

“Please, Law! Please! I need you to make me cum! Please, make me cum. Please please please…” and they don’t stop. It looks like his fantasies came to life after all.

He lets you have it because he needs it just as much as you do, the last few thrusts come a little more quick-paced and it’s hitting you in the exact spot you needed to let yourself unfold.

With a loud call to his name, you cum. You came so hard you saw stars. And he just kept fucking you through it.“‘Gonna fill you up.” He grunts and groans in an effort to reach his own moment of bliss and it’s quicker to hit him than he can comprehend, he cums inside of you and shivers a little bit in doing so, finding comfort in the crook of your neck in an effort to cover up how vulnerable he felt in that moment. No women could ever compare. He was a mess for it.

As for his fill inside of you, he’d just use his devil-fruit power to remove it, but right now he absolutely relished in the way it so effortlessly leaked out of you. You were his, officially.

Collecting his own self, he pushes himself off of you, “You’re not going cold on me, are you?” He gets up off of the comfortable position once again, peering down at your fucked-out state.

“Would you give me a second? I thought you fucked me into another dimension for like half a minute.” You huff. He gives you your time while you catch your breath, he’s rubbing circles on each side of your hips to help alleviate the strain—well that’s the doctor for you. He’ll fuck you into the mattress and then help your muscles de-stress. You couldn’t deny the gentleness and how kind the gesture was and you soften up a bit.

“Get on your hands and knees when you’re ready.” You’re up hilariously quick. And he’s already half hard from waiting for you. Your figure from the back was something he’d think back on for many nights, but getting to see your face was beyond compare.

You whimper, “I’m ready, c’mon!” You comedically and desperately wiggle your ass in front of him, he wants to laugh but it was really fucking sexy, the way you yearned for him, and he holds your hip with one hand, lining himself up once again. The hard part wasn’t so difficult this time around, and he pushes himself inside of you a little too eagerly, almost giving away his own very need. He starts to thrust into you again, and being inside of you was like heaven on earth. Though it wasn’t even 2 minutes that he was fucking you before, he was sensitive this time around, and he had to go slower to start.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” You hum a moan in a little more than approval. He’s sliding into you, watching how his cock disappears into you.

The best thing about this position is how you wouldn’t be able to see his face, how pussy-whipped he looked. If he went any faster he could cum, so he needed to start slow.

You were far past the sensual and slowness. You needed it fast and hard. “Law, go faster!”

“Don’t call me by my name. What do you call me in this room? On this ship?” Very bold in his proclamation. But he can feel your hesitance.

He smacks your ass, and you jump a bit, clenching around him very tightly. “I said, what do you call me?”

“C-Captain, please… please go faster.”

But he stops. And he swears he might be torturing his own self more, if it meant for how much you begged and whined for it, though, he wasn’t disappointed.

“If you want to go faster so bad, fuck me yourself.”

You almost want to cry from how brutal he sounded, but the vulgarity of his words makes you clench around him again. And so, you start to thrust back into him, fucking him while he watched you.

With the first few thrusts you’re already clutching the sheets below you, and it’s taking more power than you thought it would. You can’t bring yourself to stop, though. The way it felt, it was too good.

“How does it feel?”

“S-So good, Cap.” Your eyes rolled into your skull.

“You gonna make your captain cum?”

“Mhhmm~”

With a breathy voice he says, “Guess this is my reward for taking such good care of you, huh? All paid off. I don’t usually get this special treatment from my usual patients.”

“I’m n-not a usual… patient.” You hardly breathe out.

He grips both sides of your hips to make you stop in your movement and he shuffles a bit, not long after is he asking you, “Are you gonna be good from now on?”. You say yes, a thousand times over. He moves like he did before, only just picking up his thrusts quicker and quicker. The sound of his skin meeting yours makes its return only louder. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Couldn’t possibly be. You’re too special. Made just for me.”

“Yes *thrust* Captain! *thrust*”

His leg is raised to the side to get a better angle into your cunt and he feels a second orgasm quickly approaching. He’s so sweaty, drenched. His hair clings onto his forehead and his hands can barely take grip on your skin anymore. Fuck, he moans. He’s getting dizzy now. This is the best he’s felt in a while.

You, on the other hand, have your face pressed in the sheets with your orgasm on quick approach. You’re sensitive, too sensitive. And you cum with a loud whine, all your liquids spraying onto him like it was comical. He came not so far after you, with his head falling back and a breathy moan.

You both try to catch your breaths before he felt on top of you. He kissed your shoulder as his own little thank you and rolled over on the very much drenched mattress. You lay on top of him while your whole body shook and he quickly wraps his arm around your figure.

You both sit in a comfortable silence go try catching your breaths and try to pace yourselves so you could relax. And surprisingly, Law is the first to speak.

“Never pinned you for the jealous type.”

“Oh would you quit it already? You’re so good at ruining soft moments!” You push him lightly, you roll over on the other side of the mattress and he immediately grabs you back. He was so annoying.

If he asked you to stay with him, would you have done it? No, that was wishful thinking. He’s seen with his own very eyes how much Straw Hat loved you. This is the thing he dread the most about this, he shouldn’t have done it. He brought you into his own sick and dark fantasy of keeping you here just for him and now he regrets it completely. It was wishful thinking on his end, all of it.

“‘This a one time thing?” He asks to try and ground himself.

But you’re quick, “No, better not be!” You get up and sit on the bed, and he doesn’t understand how you’re up. He should be the one to get up. “Unless you declare me your enemy once I leave.” Your fingers are dancing on his chest, tracing the tattoos on his body, “But I’m fine with being with you like this. It can be our little secret anytime we see each other. Especially that captain thing, you freak.”

He laughs, and your words do bring him that relief. He pulls you by your arm for a tender kiss, something you were a bit surprised by.

He was fine with it, he’d take what he can get for now, as long it meant he could be with you.

[ditzydoe444]

Jason finding out his sweet shy girlfriend has nipple piercings and/or a clit piercing

-🪼

a/n: i might have to make a part 2 with smut

“hey sweetheart,” jason whispered softly as you walked into his piercing room, you were a clingy little thing, being his shadow following him everywhere. “what are you doing here?” he snuggled deep into your neck smelling your sweet scent. you beamed, your huge smile displaying your pearly whites were enough to make him weak at the knees.

the two of you were polar opposites, he was the brooding tatted and pierced man who would make anyone walk away if they stared the wrong way at him, and you on the other hand? you were a ray of sunshine. you were too good for him, hence why the two of you haven’t had sex, he didn’t want to scare away the only good thing in his life, he couldn’t afford to.

you nodded, your teeth sank into the bottom of your lips as you undid his belt, “doors locked and receptionist said that you don’t have any more clients so?”

he frowned, grabbing your shoulders as he gently squeezed them. “you want your first time here? at my tattoo parlour?” jason always thought about making it romantic as cheesy as it seemed, you deserved the best and he was going to give you the best.

“i want it here jacey, please, i can’t wait anymore.”

you’ve waited for what felt like ages, you were always a little insecure but after a few months with him jason treated you like the best thing in the world, he was different.

without a warning he slammed his lips on yours, holding the back of your head tightly as he wrapped your hair with his hand. “fuck darlin,” he groaned as he lifted up to to the counter, tugging your skirt off as you lifted your shirt up.

jason’s eyes went wide seeing your nipples pierced, you didn’t seem like the type to have them, god you were scared of getting your cold shot done to the point of tears.

though his shock then turned into jealousy, who pierced you? who got to see you like that?

it didn’t help when you took your panties off, putting your knees up to your chest just for him to see a small piercing on your fucking clit.

“didn’t know you were pierced baby,” he cooed as he gently traced your wet folds, watching as the tips of his fingers glistened with your arousal.

you grinned shyly, “you don’t know a lot of things jacey.”

those things included how you spent the last month with fingers shoved up your cunt thinking it was him, humping your pillows before going to bed.

“who pierced them darlin?” his voice low, if your nipple piercings weren’t enough having some stranger piece your clit? god he was going insane.

“just some piercer down the street from my apart,” you gasped as he inserted a finger, his other hand stroking his cock.

“hm guess i’ll have to have a talk with them.”

[daeniradraconis]

I just read age is just a number and I loved it! I would love to see more with them as y/n meets Luke’s parents and friends and the anxiety that can come with that.

Also seeing y/n in the wag life as she seemed to not know they were NHL players!

❤️

Age Is Just a Number… Right? - Part 2.

Summary: Luke Hughes, 6 years younger, seems like the perfect match—effortless and sweet. But when the reality of family, friends, and public attention creeps in, the simplicity starts to fade, and things get more complicated than expected. Welcome to Part 2 of Age Is Just a Number...Right? Warnings: Implied sexual situations, age gap (6 years), online harassment, bullying Note: Hey Lovelies! So here’s Part 2, and I’m so excited you asked for it! Thank you for requesting! Honestly, writing this was a total blast. This one’s a bit different though—it dives deeper into the challenges of the age gap and all the NHL pressure. It’s definitely not all smooth sailing, but I hope you still enjoy the drama!

Also, I swear I wanted to keep it short... and somehow ended up with 20,056 words. I just can’t do short, can I? 😂

For more fun: masterlist❤️

Six months. It’s almost impossible to believe how quickly time has passed since you first stumbled into Luke’s kitchen, skeptical, unsure of what would come next. Now, here you are—half a year into a relationship with him, and yet, some days, you still can't believe it's real.

Luke is perfect. Maybe too perfect, sometimes. He’s mature beyond his years, grounded in a way you’ve always admired but feared was too good to be true. When you first met, that six-year age gap felt like a huge mountain between you—something that might trip you up before you even got started. You worried there would be moments when he'd act too young, too impulsive, and you'd find yourself questioning whether you had made a mistake or whether he was ready for something serious.

But Luke? He’s proven you wrong over and over again.

His calmness, his commitment, and his quiet strength—it all made you realize that maybe age really is just a number. With him, you’ve never felt rushed, never pressured. It’s like he understands the pace you need to move at. He’s steady and unwavering, always ready to meet you where you are, to take it one step at a time. And that’s exactly what you needed. You weren’t ready to dive headfirst into something this serious until you knew it was real.

So you’ve taken things slow. Six months in, you’re still navigating the early stages of your relationship. You haven’t met his parents yet. You haven’t gone to one of his games—though you’d love to, just to see him in that element, doing what he loves. But you’ve both agreed that when those things happen, when you step into those parts of his world, it will be because you’re both sure of what you have. You’re building something strong and lasting.

And it hasn’t been all easy. There’s Jack, of course. He found out about you and Luke pretty much the moment you tried to sneak out after your first date. The cat was out of the bag before you even had a chance to process it. And naturally, that meant Quinn knew too, because Jack was worse than a tabloid. That boy couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Though you only saw Quinn a handful of times—mostly through FaceTime when you would pop into the background of Luke’s calls—you could always feel his eyes on you, sizing you up, assessing whether you were really what Luke needed.

You never blamed Quinn. You understood the brotherly protectiveness. It was clear from the start that Luke meant a lot to him, and anyone who stepped into his life had to be worth it. But still, you felt that unspoken judgment. That quiet skepticism that weighed on you, even if it was never voiced aloud. Jack reassured you, though. "He’s just protective," he’d say with a grin. "He’ll warm up to you. Trust me." And sure enough, as the months passed, the tension started to melt away.

It took five months before Quinn finally invited you to dinner. Just a simple gathering—Luke, Jack, you, and Quinn—while Quinn was in the city playing with the Rangers. At first, you weren’t sure how it would go. You knew it wasn’t just a dinner; it was a test. A chance for Quinn to see if what you and Luke shared was the real thing.

The moment you sat down at the table, you felt it: Quinn was watching you. Not like Jack did, with his easy humor and teasing grin, but in that calculating, watchful way that only a protective older brother could. You could almost feel his doubts lingering in the air. Was this just a phase for Luke? Something fleeting? Or was it something real?

You didn’t take it personally. It was hard, but you understood. You knew what came with being in Luke’s life. You’d heard enough stories from Jack and Luke to understand the whirlwind of the NHL lifestyle—the crazy girlfriends, the fleeting connections, the messiness. But you were different. You weren’t here for the money, the fame, or the excitement of it all. You saw Luke for who he really was—the person, the man he was becoming. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you were willing to take it slow, to fight for something real.

You held your ground during that dinner. You laughed, you talked, and despite the nerves, you found yourself connecting with Quinn more than you expected. Before long, you were exchanging book recommendations and recipes with him, finding that you shared more in common than you thought. For a moment, the tension eased. You realized you weren’t just some outsider in their world. You were part of it, in your own way.

By the end of the night, Quinn wasn’t just the overprotective older brother anymore. He was someone you could see yourself getting along with, someone you could trust. And he realized it too. What you had with Luke was more than just a passing fling. It was real.

As you looked across the table at Luke during that dinner, his smile so full of pride and warmth, you knew the slow burn of the past months had been worth it. Every carefully measured step, every moment of uncertainty had led to this. The connection you were building with Luke was undeniable, and you were ready for what came next.

With him. For the long haul.

—

The apartment is quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages turning.

You’re curled up on one end of the couch, a book in your hands. At least, it looks like you’re reading, but not a single word has registered in the last fifteen minutes. Across from you, Quinn is stretched out in the armchair, legs casually crossed at the ankle, his own book open in his lap. He’s in town for a game—the Canucks played the Devils last night—but instead of heading straight home for the short break in the season, he decided to stay an extra night. It made sense, with the Michigan trip tomorrow. The four of you—Quinn, Luke, Jack, and you—would be flying out together to celebrate Ellen’s birthday. And since he doesn’t get to see his brothers often, he’s crashing at the apartment for the night.

Unlike you, Quinn actually seems to be reading, his face neutral, focused, like he’s in his own world. Meanwhile, you’re pretty sure you’ve bounced your knee up and down at least twenty times in the last half hour.

Quinn doesn’t even look up when he says, “You’re fidgeting.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

He finally glances at you, raising an eyebrow. “You keep moving. And you’ve been staring at the same page for about ten minutes now.”

You sigh, closing your book with a little more force than necessary. “Didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

Quinn shrugs without breaking his gaze from the page. “Hard not to when you’re sighing like someone just called you for a penalty in overtime.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, but it doesn’t last long. Instead, you stare down at your book again, running your fingers over the creased edges. “I’m just… nervous about tomorrow.”

Quinn doesn’t react immediately, but you can tell he’s listening.

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Meeting Ellen and Jim, the whole Michigan trip. Luke’s friends. It’s a lot.”

“They already know about you,” Quinn points out. “Jack made sure of that.”

You roll your eyes, dragging a hand over your face. "Yeah, because Jack never shuts up. Honestly, I'm surprised it took him seven months to blurt it out on FaceTime."

Quinn chuckles, the sound soft and amused. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the type to keep things to himself.”

You smile faintly but shake your head. Jack could be annoying as hell sometimes, but you'd grown to appreciate his cheeky style—though you’d never let him know that. Giving him the satisfaction would only make him worse.

"Still," you continue, "knowing about me is different from actually meeting me. I don’t know... I guess I just feel like I have to prove myself. Like, I need to show your parents I’m good enough for Luke."

At that, Quinn tilts his head, his expression softening with something you didn’t expect—understanding.

“I get that,” he says quietly.

You glance at him, surprised. “You do?”

You blink, taken aback. Quinn always came across as confident, wise—sometimes quiet, but never unsure.

You’re about to ask him to elaborate when he continues, his voice slower now, more reflective.

"Jack’s always been the effortless one, you know?" he starts, a hint of admiration in his voice. "He walks into a room, and people are just drawn to him—like it’s second nature. That charm, that ease… he’s always had it."

There’s no bitterness in his voice—just truth. And you get it. Even though Jack can be a lot at times, Quinn’s right. He’s got that natural charm that makes it impossible not to like him, even when he’s being the most annoying person on the planet.

“And Luke…” Quinn’s voice falters for a second, but he recovers quickly."Luke’s a phenomenal player—and the kindest person you’ll ever meet. I can still hear Dad saying, ‘Look at him, Quinn. He’s only eight, and he’s already better than you were at that age.’"

You frown, your heart tightening slightly, but Quinn keeps going, his words surprisingly soft.

"I had to work my ass off just to keep up," he admits, his gaze dropping to his lap. "Growing up with brothers like mine... it was impossible not to notice the difference. Jack walks into a room, and people light up—he doesn’t even have to try. Luke picks up a stick, and it’s like the game was made for him. They were special. Everyone saw it. Everyone told them. And me? I was good, but never in the way they were. Never effortless. Never undeniable…So I pushed myself. Skated longer, trained harder, did everything I could to close the gap. Because if I wasn’t a prodigy like Luke or magnetic like Jack, I had to be something. I had to earn my place. Prove I belonged. Not just to everyone else, but to myself."

A tightness settles in your chest as his words sink in, striking a little too close to home. You loved being with Luke—he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. But sometimes, the weight of not feeling special enough to be with him was suffocating.

“It’s easy to get caught up in that,” Quinn adds, looking at you now. “Thinking you have to earn your place, like if you don’t, people will start to see you for what you ‘really’ are—not enough.” He gives you a sharp look, and his voice drops a little, more serious. “It’s good to have that drive in sports, but if you start believing you only deserve love and kindness if you prove it every day, it’ll eat you alive.”

Your throat tightens as you meet his eyes. There’s something in Quinn’s expression that feels like he’s not just talking about you—but about himself, too.

“But it’s bullshit,” Quinn continues, the gentleness in his tone surprising you. “People who matter will love you for who you are. You don’t have to prove yourself. Not to Luke, not to anyone. If they don’t see you for what you’re worth—what you bring to the table—it’s their loss.”

You let his words sink in, the knot in your stomach loosening just a little. You want to believe him.

But before you can say anything, the front door swings open with the usual creak, and Jack’s voice fills the apartment.

The familiar sound of Jack and Luke bickering fills the apartment. You steal a quick glance at Quinn, trying to pack everything you feel into one look. You want to thank him for opening up, for comforting you. You want to say something that might ease whatever’s been weighing on him too—tell him you’re sorry he had to go through all of that, and that if he ever needs someone to talk to, you’ll listen.

Quinn meets your gaze, and for a moment, he just nods, a small but genuine smile crossing his face—one that says more than words ever could. Then, without a word, he turns back to his book, flipping the page as if nothing happened.. 

“Dude, you definitely ate half of my roll!” Jack complains, his voice sharp with outrage as he and Luke walk in.

“I didn’t eat half your roll,” Luke counters, rolling his eyes as he kicks the door shut behind him. “I paid for the sushi, Jack. That means I can eat whatever I want.”

Jack huffs dramatically, holding up the takeout bags as if they’re the most precious thing in the world. “You hear that, Quinn? Our baby brother is robbing me blind. I’m practically starving over here.”

Quinn, still curled up in the armchair, doesn’t even glance up from his book. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Luke grins, completely unfazed by Jack’s theatrics. “Yeah, because that makes total sense. I’m here plotting to steal all of your sushi.”

Jack dramatically sighs, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips despite his best efforts. “Whatever, dude. You owe me a roll. Just keep track of it.”

Luke shrugs, tossing the sushi bags onto the counter as if it’s all water under the bridge. “I’ll pay you back next time. Maybe.”

With that, Luke crosses the room and heads straight for the couch where you're sitting. You glance up just as he sits down next to you, his body naturally leaning into yours. Before you can even process it, his lips brush softly against your temple, the gentle touch making your heart skip a beat.

“Miss me?” Luke asks, his voice light, teasing, but there’s something warm behind his words.

You smile, leaning into him slightly. “You were gone for like five minutes.”

Luke gasps, pretending to be hurt. “Five minutes is a lifetime! You should’ve missed me way more.”

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Maybe. But I’m dramatic because I love you,” he says, his voice turning soft as he tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll never apologize for that.”

You feel your heart soften, the quiet between you settling in. It’s easy with Luke. Too easy, like you’ve always been meant to share moments like this.

Meanwhile, Quinn is still immersed in his book, but you can hear the soft chuckle in his voice when he finally looks up. “You two are ridiculous.”

Luke grins, glancing over at him with a playful spark in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Captain. Did we interrupt your important reading time?”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I have important things to do.”

Luke nudges you gently. “Guess we’ll leave you to your important work then.”

Just as you’re about to respond, the bathroom door flies open, and Jack steps in, fixing Luke with a sharp look. "I swear, you took half my roll, but I’ll let it go—just so you can appreciate what an amazing brother I am."

Luke doesn’t miss a beat, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, thanks for your endless generosity, Jack.”

Jack shakes his head,“You’re impossible. But whatever, I’ll live.” He glances at Quinn. “You guys hungry?”

Quinn looks up from his book and shrugs, a small smirk on his face. “Yeah, alright. Let’s eat.”

Luke’s arm stays comfortably around your shoulders, pulling you in a little closer as Jack starts unpacking the sushi. He hands you a roll, and without hesitation, you take it, offering a piece to Luke, who grins at you.

“You sure you want to give me that? I might eat it all,” he teases, leaning in to take the piece from your fingers.

You roll your eyes but laugh. “It’s yours, baby. I’m just being nice.”

He takes it anyway, his lips brushing your hand for just a moment. “I’ll always accept nice,” he says, his voice warm and low.

Meanwhile, Quinn and Jack are fully engaged in their own conversation across the room.

“Wait, seriously? You're not hooking up with anyone?!” Jack asks, biting into his roll and glancing over at Quinn. His tone is a mix of playful curiosity and teasing challenge.

Quinn furrows his brow, unsure where this is headed. “Jack…I’ve got other things on my mind right now,” he replies, trying to sound casual but ending up a little too defensive.

Jack raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Other things, huh? Like you are too busy brooding about your love life?”

Quinn shoots him a look—part amusement, part mild annoyance—but it’s clear there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m not brooding, Jack.”

Jack leans in, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure about that? You’re the type who could use a little fun, y’know. Just a little something to shake things up.”

Quinn sighs, pushing his sushi aside and leaning back slightly. “I’m having fun, Jack. But I don’t need drama or... random hook-ups like you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jack waves a dismissive hand, grinning. “Hook-ups aren’t drama. They’re just... passing moments. You should try it.”

You glance at Luke, stifling a grin as the brothers bicker. Luke notices and leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Bet you ten bucks Quinn secretly thinks Jack needs a relationship.”

You chuckle softly, meeting his gaze. “You’re probably right.”

Luke shrugs, his grin sly. “He’s a good big brother, always looking out for Jack. But Jack’s more about living in the moment. Quinn doesn’t get that.”

As Jack continues —now full-on teasing about a girl he’s seeing—Quinn leans back, his patience clearly wearing thin but he’s trying to remain composed. “It’s not just about fun, Jack,” he says, his voice steady but earnest. “You need stability. You can’t just hop from one person to the next and think it’s gonna mean anything.”

Jack leans forward, his grin not faltering. “Who said anything about it ‘meaning’ anything? I’m just here for the ride, bro. You should try living in the moment sometime.”

Quinn shakes his head, voice calm but resolute. “Living in the moment is fine, but you can’t run from what really matters forever.”

Jack shrugs again, his smirk widening. “The ‘real thing’? Overrated.”

Luke leans in closer to you, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. “I’ll never be ‘overrated,’ right?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Never,” you reply, your voice light with amusement.

Luke’s fingers brush yours as he takes another piece of sushi, then presses a quick kiss to your cheeks, his breath warm against your skin.  “Good. Because you know, you’re my real thing,” he says, so quietly that only you can hear.

Your heart flutters as you look up at him, the familiar comfort of his presence pulling you away from the noise around you. Jack and Quinn’s voices fade into the background. Everything feels easy and relaxed, like you could just stay in this moment.

You lean back against Luke, resting your hand on his thigh, your fingers moving in soft, slow circles. You let his words sink in, the quiet meaning behind them making you feel warm, sparking something inside you.

Luke’s voice drops again, near a whisper in your ear. “You’re not listening, are you?”

You shake your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Too distracted.”

Luke’s grin widens, his arms tightening around you. “I’m distracting, huh?”

“Definitely,” you reply, the heat of his touch quickening your pulse just a little.

In the background, Jack’s voice rises in exaggerated complaint. “You really need to get a life, Quinn. I’m starting to think you’re allergic to fun.”

Quinn chuckles under his breath, the familiar rhythm of their sibling banter carrying on.

You close your eyes for a brief moment, listening to their back-and-forth, the warmth of Luke’s body beside you, the comfort of silence between you two that feels more intimate than words ever could. This moment—this quiet, easy, perfect moment—feels like something you never want to let go of.

—

Quinn was wrong. Ellen didn’t just dislike you—she made it clear from the start that you weren’t welcome. You still couldn’t figure out why.

You’d arrived in Michigan just a day ago with the boys. Jim, their dad, picked you all up from the airport, and he couldn’t have been kinder. He gave you a big, welcoming hug and even cracked a funny joke about his son. He said he’d always known Luke would end up with an older woman because he was the smartest and most mature of the bunch. Jack and Quinn didn’t seem too thrilled with the comment, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved by Jim’s warmth. He reminded you a lot of Luke—witty, laid-back, and effortlessly easy to talk to.

But when it came to Ellen, it was a completely different story. From the moment she saw you, she made sure you knew you weren’t welcome. Her “kindness” was stiff and calculated. She didn’t ask a single question, didn’t accept your offer to help clean up after dinner, and every time you spoke, she responded with nothing more than the bare minimum. It was so painfully obvious that, by the end of the night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The boys didn’t seem to notice at first, but the tension between you and Ellen only grew, and it soon became obvious to everyone.

After everyone had gone to rest, you sat down on Luke’s childhood bed, the weight of the evening settling heavily on you. Your chest tightened, and you almost couldn’t hold back the tears.

"Hey," Luke said, his voice gentle as he cupped your face. He sat beside you, pulling you into his lap. "I’m so sorry, darling," he murmured, his voice soft with concern. "I don’t get it. I’ve talked about you with her, and she never said anything. I thought this would be easy... but I’ll talk to her. I promise."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into him as his warmth surrounded you.

You nestle into Luke’s chest, letting his warmth pull you in. His arms tighten around you, offering comfort, but a familiar knot forms in your stomach—one you hadn’t expected to feel again. The way Ellen had treated you, the coldness in her eyes—it hit you harder than you wanted to admit. The doubt that had been lurking in the back of your mind since the beginning, started to creep back in. The same insecurity, the same fear you’d been trying to shake off for months.

You swallow hard, but you don’t let your voice shake as you speak. “It’s not your fault, Luke,” you say, your words soft, almost too soft. “It’s just... she made it feel like I don’t belong here, you know? Like I don’t fit with your family.”

Luke brushes his fingers through your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You do belong here. I want you here, always,” he murmurs, his voice steady, but you can hear the underlying concern in it.

You nod, but deep down, you’re questioning everything. Am I really good enough for him? That age gap—the thing that had once seemed so insignificant now feels like an undeniable wall, one you can’t climb over. And if Ellen can see it, if she can feel it, maybe it’s a sign that you don’t truly fit into his world after all.

“Maybe... maybe I’m just not what you need,” you whisper, the thought slipping out before you can catch it. “Maybe it’s just harder for me than I thought.”

Luke freezes for a moment, his breath catching as he pulls back slightly to look at you. His eyes are soft, searching, and he lifts your chin with his fingers so you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“What do you mean by that?” His voice is low, gentle, but there’s an edge of worry in it.

You take a shaky breath, fighting back the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. You can’t explain it without sounding ridiculous, so instead, you focus on the doubt tormenting you. “I just... I don’t know. I keep wondering if I’m enough for you. If the age gap will always be something that... that people notice. Or if your family will ever accept me for who I am, not just because I’m with you.”

Luke’s expression softens even more, and he pulls you close again, this time more firmly. ���Listen to me,” he says, his voice serious but full of tenderness. “I don’t care about the age gap. I don’t care about what people think or what my family thinks. All that matters is us—what we have together. And if they can’t see that, it’s their problem, not ours.”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to absorb his words, but the uncertainty still lingers, tucked into the corners of your mind. Luke’s arms tighten around you again, and you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. He doesn’t say anything more, just lets the silence settle around you, and you let yourself lean into him completely, allowing the weight of everything to fall away—if only for a little while.

“I just want you to know that I’m here,” he adds quietly, his voice almost a whisper now. “No matter what, I’m here. And I’m not letting you go.”

—

The next morning, as the birthday party for Ellen kicks off, the energy in the house is a bit brighter, but your nerves are still on edge. The situation with Ellen hasn’t improved, and you're doing your best to push the unease to the back of your mind. Guests begin to trickle in—family, friends, everyone buzzing around and chatting—but you feel like you're still on the outside, quietly observing.

As soon as Luke’s friends walk in—Ethan, Mark, and Dylan—the room instantly fills with their loud, boisterous energy. You feel a flutter of nerves, but Luke catches your eye, offering you a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. You stand a little taller.

Ethan is the first to notice you, his gaze flickering between you and Luke.Luke gives a quick, casual introduction, but before you can even get a word in, Ethan’s brow arches, and a kind smile spreads across his face.

"Well, look at this," he says, his voice teasing but laced with curiosity. "Didn't think you'd go for someone a little... more seasoned."

Mark grins and nudges Luke’s shoulders playfully. "Of course he would, Ethan! Luke’s always been Mister Serious when it comes to love. But man, you really hit the jackpot here. Didn’t think you had it in you."

You can’t help but blush a little at their teasing, your cheeks warming. “What can I say? He’s got great taste,” you reply with a playful smile, then turn to Luke, your gaze warm. “And sure, he’s younger—but trust me, he’s all man. And he deserves someone who sees that.”

For a moment, the teasing fades. There’s a brief pause as the words settle in. Luke’s expression shifts, his eyes lighting up with something close to pride. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. Without hesitation, he pulls you a little closer, his arm resting around your waist—not for show, not to prove a point, just because it feels right.

Ethan lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I get it. Guess Luke’s not the only one serious about this. You finally found someone who’s in it for real.”

Mark nods, his usual joking tone giving way to something more genuine. “Yeah. Honestly, I wish you could’ve heard all the whining before you two got together.”

“Oh, it was painful,” Dylan adds, shaking his head dramatically. He drops his voice lower, mimicking Luke in an exaggerated, desperate tone. “‘Oh, guys, I just want someone who actually wants something real…’”

Ethan clutches his forehead like he’s in distress. “‘Yeah, all the hot girls only want situationships. It’s terrible. I don’t know how I’ll survive…’”

The group bursts into laughter, and Luke, instead of arguing, just grins wider. He shrugs, completely unfazed. “Laugh all you want,” he says, voice steady. Then he turns to you, his smile softening just a little. “But all the work I put into finding the right person? It was worth it. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His words land like a gentle touch against your heart, a warmth spreading deep in your chest.

The next hour passes in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. You find yourself caught up in wild university stories, each one more ridiculous than the last. The guys tease you, you fire back just as quickly, and before long, you’re all grinning like old friends. You’re relieved they don’t take the whole situation too seriously—it’s a welcome break from the weight of everything else on your mind. And right now, you could use a little lightness.

But after a while, Luke reaches for your wrist, his touch gentle but firm. “Alright, I’m stealing her for a bit,” he announces, giving the guys a pointed look. “Gotta introduce her to some family members.”

Mark groans dramatically. “Ah, yes. The official tour. Good luck.”

"Don’t let Aunt Carol talk your ear off," Dylan smirks before taking a long sip of his beer.

Ethan leans back with a knowing grin. “And watch out for the cousins—there’s like a hundred of them.”

You laugh, but as Luke leads you away, you quickly realize they weren’t exaggerating. The Hughes family is much bigger than you expected.

For the next forty minutes, you meet what feels like an endless stream of aunts, uncles, and cousins, each one greeting you with warmth and curiosity. But what surprises you most isn’t the size of his family—it’s how effortless Luke makes it all feel.

He guides you seamlessly from one introduction to the next, never once leaving your side. He carries the conversations with ease, knowing exactly when to jump in, when to steer the small talk, and when to give you space to speak. Any moment you start to feel overwhelmed, he’s there—a reassuring glance, a hand resting lightly on your back, a quiet squeeze of your fingers. It’s not just about introducing you to them. It’s about making sure you feel comfortable.

And that’s when it truly hits you.

Luke isn’t just proving something to his family and friends. He’s proving it to you.

Every touch, every word, every small moment—it’s all a reminder. A reminder that this isn’t temporary, that you’re not some passing phase in his life. You belong here, with him, in his world, and he wants everyone to know it.

More than that—he wants you to know it.

And as you watch the way he looks at you, the way he proudly keeps you close, the way he makes sure you feel seen, heard, and respected—it’s undeniable.

Luke isn’t just proud to be with you.

He’s protecting this.

Protecting you.

—

After what feels like the hundredth introduction in a row, you realize you need a break. The constant smiling, small talk, and endless new faces are starting to wear on you. Luke has been incredible—steady, attentive, making everything easier—but even with him at your side, you need a moment to breathe.

“I’m just gonna grab some water,” you tell him softly, squeezing his hand.

He studies you for a second, like he knows you’re feeling overwhelmed, but he nods. “Take your time. I’ll be right here.”

Slipping away, you make your way to the kitchen, relieved to find it empty. You lean against the counter, inhaling deeply, trying to shake the exhaustion creeping in. Just a few seconds of quiet. That’s all you need.

But then, voices drift in from the hallway.

Ellen’s voice.

And she doesn’t sound happy.

“I just don’t understand it,” she says, frustration dripping from every word. “What does she even want with him?”

There’s a pause, then another voice—her friend, quieter, hesitant. “Maybe she really does care about him?”

Ellen lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I’m sure she cares. Why wouldn’t she? He’s young, successful, and comes from a good family. But let’s be real—she’s not stupid. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”

Your stomach tightens.

“What do you mean?” her friend asks cautiously.

Ellen huffs. “She’s older. She knows time isn’t on her side. She’s probably already thinking about ways to lock him down before he wakes up and realizes what a mistake this is.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Oh, come on,” her friend murmurs. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” Ellen’s voice sharpens. “You know how these things go. Maybe she’s already hinting at the next step—moving in, getting engaged. And then what? A baby? Accidents happen all the time, don’t they?”

Your heart pounds.

No.

She wouldn’t—she couldn’t think that.

"That’s just the natural progression of a relationship, Ellen," her friend says, though there’s a hint of hesitation in her voice. "And she doesn’t seem like the type who would do that."

Ellen doesn’t hesitate. “Maybe not now. But give it time. She’ll make sure she’s set, one way or another. And then what? Luke’s stuck. Tied down before he’s even had the chance to live his life. He’s too young for this—he should be focused on hockey, his future, not playing house with some woman who’s way older than him.”

Your hands tremble against the counter.

She thinks you’re trapping him. That you’re manipulating him, clinging to him for his money, his name, his future. That you’re selfish enough to take away everything he’s worked for just so you can have stability.

Every ugly thought you’ve ever had about yourself, every insecurity you thought you’d buried, slams into you all at once.

You’re too old for him. He’s too young to know what he really wants. You are holding him back. Maybe one day, he will regret this.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to shove the thoughts away, but they keep coming. The weight of them sits heavy on your chest, suffocating.

It’s unfair. It’s cruel.

Because you know the truth.

You never wanted anything from Luke but him. His love, his presence, the way he makes you feel like you finally belong somewhere. He’s the one who pulled you in, who made you believe this could work.

And yet, here you are, listening to his own mother rip you apart like you’re nothing more than an opportunist.

Tears sting at the back of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

No.

You will not let her do this to you.

You take a shaky breath, lifting your chin.

You could walk out there right now. Confront her. Demand to know how she can say these things when everyone else can see how much you and Luke love each other.

But you won’t. Not yet.

This isn’t the time, and you won’t make a scene—not at Luke’s family gathering, not when he’s worked so hard to make this day special.

Instead, you straighten your shoulders, press your palms against the counter, and take one last deep breath.

You’ll go back to Luke.

Because he is the only thing that matters right now.

But later—when the party is over, when it’s just the two of you—you will talk to Ellen.

One way or another, this conversation is happening.

Because no matter what she thinks, no matter what doubts she tries to plant in your head, there’s one thing you know for sure.

You love Luke, and you're not going anywhere. You won’t let the dark thoughts take over.

—

When the party winds down and the last of the guests have left, the house settles into a peaceful quiet, a soft hum lingering in the air. The only sounds coming from outside are the occasional bursts of laughter from the porch, where Luke and his brothers sit with Jim, sipping their drinks and listening to some old country music.

You were out there with them for a while, curled up next to Luke, letting the warmth of his presence chase away the lingering sting of what you’d overheard. But no matter how much you tried to push it down, it’s still there—Ellen’s words, the accusations, the way she spoke about you like you were some kind of threat to her son’s future.

You can’t let it go.

So you slip inside, your pulse quickening with every step through the quiet house. You find Ellen in the kitchen, wiping down the counters, her expression calm—like she hasn’t just spent the evening making you feel like a complete fraud.

She doesn’t even glance your way, let alone acknowledge you with a hi. So, you’re the one who finally breaks the silence.

“I heard what you said earlier,” you say, your voice quieter this time, but no less firm. “About me. About why you don’t think I belong with Luke.”

Ellen tenses but doesn’t look at you. Not yet. “I assume you didn’t like what you heard.”

You let out a soft, humorless laugh. “No. But I think I get it.” You hesitate for a second before continuing, forcing yourself to push past the knot in your throat. “The truth is, Ellen, I’ve had all of those same fears. Maybe even worse ones.”

That gets her attention. She looks up, eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

You exhale, gripping the back of a chair as you gather your thoughts.

“When I met Luke, I didn’t even know who he was. I didn’t know he was in the NHL, I didn’t know he was 21. Hell, I didn’t even know his last name the first time we talked.” You shake your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. “If I had known? I probably wouldn’t have let myself get close to him. Because I never intended for any of this to happen.”

Ellen watches you carefully, arms crossed, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“I fought it,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much convincing it took for me to even give this a chance. Luke… he saw something in me from the start, something I didn’t even see in myself. He was patient. He never pushed, never made me feel like I had to be anything other than who I was. And when I told him I wasn’t sure? That I was scared? He just waited. He let me take my time.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the back of the chair you’re standing behind. “That’s why we kept it quiet. For seven months, Ellen. Not because we were hiding, but because I needed to be sure. Because I needed to know that this wasn’t just some fleeting thing for him. That it wasn’t just… a phase, or a rebellion, or some naive fantasy. I needed to know that what we had was real before I let myself believe in it.”

Ellen’s expression shifts for the first time, and you catch a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe understanding—but you still can’t read it completely.

But you’re not done yet.

“I never wanted to be some scandal. Some headline. Some… joke to people who think they know our relationship just because they know his name.” Your throat tightens, but you push through it. “I’ve never even been to one of his games. Not once. Because I’m terrified of what people will say about me. About us. About how I’m ‘too old for him’ or ‘using him’ or—” Your voice breaks slightly, but you shake your head, forcing yourself to continue.

“You think I don’t lie awake at night wondering if I’m what’s best for him? If I should just—walk away before the world does everything it can to tear us apart?” You let out a shaky breath. “Because I do.”

Ellen looks at you then, really looks at you. For the first time, she doesn’t seem like an overprotective mother searching for someone to blame.

She just looks like a mother who’s scared.

You exhale, your voice barely above a whisper as you speak, “You’re not the only one scared of me hurting him, Ellen. I’m terrified of it, too.”

Ellen listens, her eyes focused, waiting for you to continue. You swallow hard, your chest tightening as you try to steady your nerves.

“I know the fans don’t even know about me yet, but I can already see it. Once they do, it’ll blow up. All over social media, rumors flying, and people judging him—judging us—just because I’m older. I don’t want him to have to deal with that kind of pressure. Not when he’s already got so much on his plate.”

You run a hand through your hair, the weight of it all sinking in like a stone in your stomach. “And his teammates... What if it makes things weird for him? He’s worked his whole life for this. The last thing I want is to be the thing that complicates his career, or makes him feel like he has to choose between me and them.”

Your eyes meet Ellen’s, filled with doubt, uncertainty. “I just don’t know if he’s ready for all that... for everything this could mean.”

A heavy silence settles between you, not suffocating, but thick with the gravity of your words. Ellen’s gaze drops for a moment, her hands gripping the edge of the counter like she’s trying to hold herself steady, as if your fears have somehow shifted something in her.

Finally, she speaks.

“I—” She stops herself, exhales sharply. When she looks at you again, there’s something different in her eyes. Not quite acceptance, but maybe the beginning of understanding.

“I didn’t know any of that,” she admits with a flat voice.

“No,” you say softly. “You didn’t.”

She presses her lips together, glancing out the window at Luke, who’s still outside with his brothers, laughing, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside. When she turns back to you, her expression is unreadable. “You drink?” she asks, tone even.

You nod without a second thought. “I do now.”

For the first time since you walked in, the corner of her mouth twitches—just a hint of amusement, barely there but enough to notice.

—

​​The tension in the kitchen finally eases, and for the first time tonight, the air feels lighter. Ellen, usually so cold, is now leaning against the counter, sipping her gin and laughing with you. The sharpness in her gaze has softened, replaced with a warmth you never expected to see.

“I’ll tell you something,” she says, her words slightly slurred, “I didn’t expect this to be my night.” She chuckles, a soft, genuine laugh that catches you off guard. “But it’s good to let the walls come down every once in a while, huh?”

You nod, amused by how effortlessly she’s transformed. “Yeah, it’s surprising,” you admit, feeling genuinely relaxed now. “But I think we’re getting somewhere.”

“Oh, we definitely are,” Ellen agrees, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But you wanna hear something really fun? Luke… oh boy, Luke was a mess with his first crush.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Luke? Mr. Charismatic?”

“Oh, yes,” Ellen says, practically grinning. She lowers her voice, leaning in like she’s about to share the juiciest secret. “I remember this girl. He practiced for days in front of the mirror, building up the courage to ask her to the school dance. I’m standing in the hallway, praying for him, and he goes up to her and says, ‘Hi… um… so… would you maybe… like, want to… uh, go with me to the event?’” She mimics his awkward tone, twisting her face in that exact “I’m-so-embarrassed” expression. “The poor kid froze. It was so bad, I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop laughing.”

You try to stifle your laughter, but it escapes in a burst. “No way, Luke? He really did that?”

“Oh, yes,” Ellen confirms, shaking her head with a grin. “That’s my boy. The ‘charismatic’ one.” She takes another sip of her drink, voice dropping even lower. “But wait. There’s more.”

Your eyes widen, knowing you’re in for something worse.

“Oh yeah,” she smirks, clearly loving the moment. “Let’s talk about Luke’s first real kiss. He was about 15, hanging out at a friend’s party. He finally found the courage to kiss this girl he’d been eyeing all night, and everything was going fine. They’re talking, laughing, and then—he goes in for the kiss. And completely misses. Right past her lips, straight into her nose.” She pauses, relishing the buildup. “She’s standing there, totally confused, and Luke? He freaked out and bolted. Literally ran out of the party like a man on fire.”

You burst into laughter, barely able to catch your breath. “No way! He missed the whole thing?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ellen says, not missing a beat. “And then he spent the next hour Googling ‘how to kiss a girl.’ I had to give him a whole lesson on lip placement.” She shakes her head, still grinning. “I thought I was going to die of second-hand embarrassment.”

Just as you think you can’t laugh any harder, the door creaks open.

Jack steps into the kitchen, eyes widening at the sight of the empty bottles and the two of you clearly well into your cups.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Jack asks, a mix of confusion and amusement on his face, though his grin is practically splitting his face in two. You can tell without a doubt that he overheard your conversation with Elle. His eyes flick to Luke, who’s right behind him, his face already bright red. “Wait, you’re telling me that’s actually true? You missed your first kiss?”

Luke freezes, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “I—look, it wasn’t a big deal. I was nervous, alright? Cut me some slack.”

Jack’s grin widens, clearly delighted. “Oh man, this is perfect. Finally, something else embarrassing about Luke I can hold over his head.” He laughs to himself before adding, “I thought I knew all the stories. This one’s gold.”

Before Luke can recover, Ellen jumps in, her voice rising as she relishes the moment. “Oh, we’re not done yet, Jack. Remember when I found Luke’s ‘dating handbook’ when he was 16? A whole book, filled with tips like ‘how to avoid awkward silences’ and ‘perfect first date questions.’” She practically slams her glass down, savoring every second of Luke’s embarrassment.

Luke looks like he’s about to vanish into thin air. His hands are buried in his face, but it’s no use—his brothers are on a roll.

Quinn walks in, laughing, with Jim right behind him, grinning widely. “Wait, what? A book? Oh man, I’m dead.”

Luke tries to defend himself. “Guys, please. I was just… figuring things out.”

Jim gives Luke a dramatic pat on the back, his voice dripping with exaggerated sympathy. “Don’t worry, son. We’ve all been there. I remember when Jack asked me—at 18—how to know when it’s the right time to hold hands.” He pauses for effect, letting the silence hang. “At 18!”

You burst into uncontrollable laughter, practically gasping for air. “Oh my god, Jack?! Mr. ‘I’m your Prince Charming, Flirt King’ himself?”

Jack’s face goes pale, and his expression shifts to pure horror. It’s his turn to turn bright red now. “Dad! You promised it was gonna stay between us!”

The kitchen is filled with laughter, and your cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much.

Ellen takes another sip of her drink, a mischievous glint in her eye as she winks at you. “You think that’s bad? Just wait until I tell you about the time I caught Quinn on his computer, searching for… let’s say, questionable content. I almost had a heart attack. I thought he was watching a documentary on the history of hockey… but nope. Wrong side of the internet.” She smirks, clearly enjoying herself. “And, for the record, I learned something that day. Quinn’s type is definitely Latinas.”

Quinn, who’d been casually sipping his beer while leaning against the kitchen arch, nearly chokes on the drink. His face turns bright red as well. “MOM, STOP!”

The whole room bursts into laughter again.

Ellen, a little tipsy but clearly loving the chaos, glances at you with a softer, more genuine smile. Her voice, though still playful, carries a hint of warmth. “But Luke’s a good kid, you know. A little awkward, a little goofy, but…” She pauses, her eyes softening as she looks at Luke, then back to you. “…but he’s got a heart of gold.”

You take a deep breath, wiping away tears of laughter. “Oh, I know, Ellen. I’m one lucky woman to have him in my life.”

Luke looks at you with so much love in his eyes, his gaze shifting between you and his mother, a soft smile on his face. You can see the relief wash over him.

You wink at him, giving him a silent sign that everything is going to be alright.

Ellen takes another sip, her tone shifting into something more sincere. “I’m sorry for all the tension earlier. Luke is lucky to have you as well.”

Luke meets her eyes and sends a warm, loving smile to his mother. He steps over to you, wrapping his arm around you and planting a short, warm kiss on your forehead. “Thanks for sticking around for this disaster,” he says quietly, whispering in your ear, his voice full of meaning.

“Of course, honey! You can’t get rid of me that easily!”

—

You never imagined you’d miss Michigan that much. But back in Jersey, the difference hit you hard. Life here was faster, louder, and more chaotic. The NHL season was in full swing, and the Devils were struggling. With every loss, the pressure on Luke grew, and so did the distance between you two. His mind was consumed by the game, leaving little room for anything else. You could feel the weight of his career slowly pushing you apart. The whole situation felt like it was constantly testing your ability to balance everything, but you knew you had to figure it out.

So, without thinking too much, you made the decision to move in with Luke and Jack. You didn’t want things to feel so difficult. Luke had already sacrificed so much, supporting you through everything. Now, it was your turn to make the sacrifice—to make it easier for him.

The adjustment wasn’t instant. Between Luke’s demanding schedule and the pressure from the season, there were days when it felt like everything was pulling in different directions. But you found a way to make it work. You took a new job with more flexible hours, something that would allow you to be there for him more consistently. It wasn’t just about giving him space—it was about creating the kind of life together where you could both feel secure and steady, no matter how busy or intense his career became.

Living with Luke and Jack brought its own challenges, but it also gave you the chance to help shoulder some of the burden. You worked from home most days, only going into the office once a week. You kept the apartment tidy, cooked meals, and made sure they always had something warm to come home to. Even Jack, who kept up his usual tough-guy act, showed signs of how much the season was getting to him. You could tell the losses were affecting him too. And though Luke remained a rock for everyone around him, the weight of the season was clearly taking its toll.

Luke insisted on covering everything—rent, utilities, groceries. He wanted to spoil you, but you couldn’t just let that happen. You needed to contribute, to show that you were just as invested in making this work. You wanted to take care of him, take care of them, and make sure they all felt supported during this time of stress. The more you learned about the pressures of his life, the more you were ready to do whatever it took to ease his burden, even if it meant adjusting your own life to make it easier for him.

One evening, not long after you’d moved in, you and Luke were curled up on the couch, watching a game. You didn’t fully understand hockey, but the Leafs were playing, and if you were being honest, they were the other team you secretly enjoyed watching. In fact, if you weren’t so loyal to Luke, you might have even liked them better—something that always made him laugh. You’d deny it every time, swearing your heart belonged to the Devils, but he always saw right through you.

Between plays, Luke glanced at you, his expression turning serious. “I know you want to take things slow and everything,” he started, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your thigh. “But I was thinking… maybe you could come to my game this weekend.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and he must have noticed because he quickly added, “The guys already know about you, so it wouldn’t be a big deal or anything. We don’t have to post anything online, but I don’t want to hide you.” His voice was firm, certain. “I want the world to know you’re mine.”

You hesitated, nerves flickering in your stomach.

“The Devils are playing the Leafs,” he continued, knowing that might tip the scales in his favor. “So, technically, you’ll be seeing both of your favorite teams.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You act like I’m a Leafs fan.”

He smirked. “You are a Leafs fan. You just refuse to admit it.”

A few months ago, the very thought of agreeing to this would have terrified you. The idea of stepping into the spotlight, facing criticism, and becoming visible would have been enough to send you into a spiral. But after everything you had been through with Luke, you knew one thing for sure: you trusted his love.

A slow smile spread across your lips as you nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Luke blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—that’s it?”

You laughed at his shock. “Yep, that’s it.” You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Because I love you, Lukey. You stood by me when I was scared, when I didn’t trust this, when I wasn’t sure I could handle it. You were patient, you fought for us—even when your family made it hard. I want to be there for you too. I want to be the girlfriend in the stands, screaming my lungs out for you.”

His grin was instant, boyish and bright. “God, I love you,” he murmured before pulling you into a deep kiss.

You smirked as you pulled back, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I can’t wait for the weekend,” you teased, watching his lips twitch in amusement as you both turned back to the game. The Leafs were destroying Montreal, and you grinned. “Do you think I can meet Woll?”

Luke groaned, shaking his head. “You’re insane,” he said, but there was nothing but fondness in his tone. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.”

You giggled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m just teasing. But you really are the best, honey. Thanks for offering.”

Luke’s large palm slipped under your pajama top, fingers trailing slow, teasing patterns against your skin. His touch sent a shiver through you, the warmth of his palm settling just below your ribs, dangerously close to your breast. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

“Of course, baby,” he murmured, dipping his head to press open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. “I love seeing you happy.”

His tongue traced light, deliberate circles on the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and a soft whimper slipped from your lips.Your fingers trailed down his chest, moving lower, before wrapping around his cock in a slow, languid stroke. He tensed beneath your touch, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as his head fell against your shoulder.

"If I knew you’d be this grateful just for the chance to meet Woll," he rasped, voice thick with amusement and something darker, "maybe I should set up a whole meet-and-greet."

You chuckled, your touch slow and purposeful. “Oh, let me give you a real taste of my gratitude…”

And just like that, all thoughts of hockey, public appearances, and game-day nerves melted away.

—

The hum of the arena is deafening as you step inside, the rush of energy from the crowd crashing over you like a wave. The lights pulse overhead, casting a bright glow over the ice below. You’re here for Luke, to support him, to cheer him on the way a girlfriend should, but there’s something about this place—the cold air, the flashing cameras, the subtle glances—that makes your nerves spike.

You knew this was going to be hard.

Dating someone like Luke—someone young, rising, and constantly in the public eye—was never going to be easy. The moment your relationship became public, you knew the scrutiny would follow. You had braced yourself for it, told yourself that the people who mattered—Luke, his family, his friends—knew your heart. But now, standing in the heart of it all, the weight of their eyes on you, the quiet whispers just loud enough to hear, it felt real.

Luke had reassured you before you left. He had watched you fuss over your outfit for way too long, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, reapplying your lip gloss three times, making sure everything was just right. He had only smiled, stepping behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Babe, you look amazing,” he had murmured. “But none of this matters. Just enjoy the night, okay? That’s all I care about.”

You had nodded, comforted by his words, but now? Now, under the luminous glow of the arena, your stomach was twisting.

The energy inside the arena was electric, the kind of buzz that sent chills up your spine. Fans decked out in red and blue roared with excitement as the players hit the ice, their sticks tapping against the boards, the sharp sound cutting through the deafening noise. You should’ve been excited—this was Luke’s big game, your first official game as his girlfriend.

But all you felt was nerves.

You sat with the WAGs, hands folded tightly in your lap as you tried to shake off the anxiety bubbling in your chest. Some of the women were nice—really nice, actually. Reanne, Curtis Lazar’s wife, was a breath of fresh air. From the moment you sat down, she had gone out of her way to make you feel welcome, chatting with you like you’d been friends for years. She had this warmth about her, something easy and kind, and it helped, a little.

But then there were the others.

The ones who barely acknowledged your existence. The ones who offered tight, forced smiles when you caught their eye, then turned away just as quickly. And then there were the ones who didn’t bother hiding their disdain at all.

You tried not to let it get to you. You focused on the game, let Reanne fill in the gaps whenever you looked lost, and even managed to enjoy yourself. For a while, it almost felt normal.

Until you heard them.

“She’s way too old for him... And what’s with those thighs? She could crush him with those things.”

The words were whispered but loud enough to make your stomach sink.

“I know, right? She looks like she’s been spending all her time in the gym, but not in a good way. It’s like, too much muscle, too little femininity.” Another voice scoffed, clearly enjoying the cruelty.

You clenched your fists, refusing to look at them, keeping your focus locked on the ice.

You knew you were strong, and you had worked hard for the body you had. You’d been a big runner—the kind of runner who had thick thighs and a solid ass from hours on the pavement.

You used to take pride in it. It was why you crossed the finish line of that half marathon when no one thought you could.

But now, their words—those cutting comments—had you questioning everything you’d once felt proud of.

Reanne’s body stiffened beside you, her hand gripping her drink so hard you thought it might shatter. You could feel her holding back, ready to snap. But before she could, another voice joined in, the laugh sharp and cruel.

“Seriously, she has to be in it for the money. Why else would someone her age be with a kid fresh out of college?”

Laughter. Actual laughter.

Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms.

You shouldn’t care. You knew this would happen. You knew people would judge. But knowing didn’t make it easier.

And then you saw it.

A few rows ahead, a girl had her phone out, camera angled just right.

She was recording.

Your breath caught in your throat.

She wasn’t recording the game.

She was recording them. Recording their words. Recording you.

Your chest felt tight, your pulse hammering in your ears. You wanted to look away, to pretend it wasn’t happening, but you couldn’t. You were frozen, caught in this horrible moment, trapped between humiliation and the overwhelming desire to disappear.

The rest of the game passed in a blur. You barely saw Luke on the ice. You barely heard the cheers, the commentary, the final buzzer signaling the end of the third period. By the time you snapped out of it, everyone around you was standing, gathering their things, filing out toward the exits.

Reanne touched your arm gently. “Hey,” she murmured, her voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, just tired.” It was a lie, but you said it anyway.

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t let their words get to you. Luke loves you, and that’s all that matters.”

You walked out of the arena, blending into the sea of fans, trying not to let it show—trying not to let the weight of their words sink too deep.

And you almost made it.

But then, later that night, the video surfaced.

You saw it before Luke did. Before anyone did.

A clip, grainy but clear enough. Voices sneering, words like knives. The comments were already rolling in, tearing you apart.

"Imagine being this insecure 💀"

"She looks so uncomfortable, lol. Like she knows she doesn’t belong."

"Luke deserves WAY better than this. Yikes."

"She’s literally just a glorified babysitter at this point 😂"

"Does she think having a nose that big makes her look sophisticated? Girl, it’s giving witch vibes."

"Her thighs look like they belong in a bodybuilding competition, not on a woman supposedly ‘dating’ someone half her age. 🚩"

"She’s trying so hard to act unbothered, but it’s actually embarrassing to watch."

"Granny’s out here desperately trying to keep up with the younger crowd. It’s kinda sad, tbh. 👵"

"What does Luke even see in her? It’s definitely not her looks. 😬"

"Her whole vibe is just ‘clinging to relevance.’ She’s obviously using him for attention."

These were the milder ones. The others were worse—full of venom, wishing harm on you, calling you a slut, and throwing out every vile insult they could think of.

The comments made you feel sick, a weight settling in your chest that you didn’t know how to shake. You’d never felt this insecure before—not like this. You’d had your struggles when you were younger, moments of doubt about your body, but you grew past them. You were strong, healthy, confident. But now? Now, their words crawled under your skin, making you question everything. And worst of all, you didn’t know how to make it stop.

But you didn’t tell Luke.

You couldn’t bring yourself to. He was always so strong for you, always there when you needed him. You wanted to do the same for him—be there on his game day, support him, and not add to the weight he was already carrying.

So you swallowed it down.

You went home with him, pretended everything was fine, let him kiss you, let him hold you. And only when he grabbed his book and started reading, you slipped into the shower.

You strip off your clothes, the chill of the bathroom air prickling your skin. As you step into the shower, the scalding water rushes over you, its heat wrapping around you, though it does little to quiet the chaos inside. The cold porcelain presses against your back, a sharp contrast that should bring you back to the present—but even that isn’t enough. You feel trapped. The cruel words from earlier echo in your mind, the judgment, the harshness, circling you like a storm you can’t outrun.

You’re ashamed of yourself for feeling weak. For letting it get to you. But despite your best efforts to keep it together, the tears come. And this time, you don’t fight them.

They fall freely, hot and relentless, and for the first time tonight, you allow yourself to feel the weight of it all. You spend what feels like hours under the running water, each tear that falls stripping away a little more of the armor you’ve been wearing all day.

Luke knocks gently on the door after a while. His voice is soft, just outside the bathroom. “Hey, are you okay in there?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and force a shaky breath, brushing the wet strands of your hair away from your face. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, your voice betraying you. “Just wanted to wash my hair.”

Eventually, you rinse the last of the tears away, the water now lukewarm against your skin. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to steady your hands as you turn off the shower. The silence in the bathroom is almost suffocating, but it’s better than the weight of the words still lingering in your mind.

You wrap a towel around yourself, trying to gather your thoughts. You take a moment to compose yourself before stepping out, the cold air hitting you once more. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person looking back.

With a final, shaky breath, you step out of the bathroom, the cool air hitting your damp skin. Your heart feels heavy, the weight of the night still pressing down, but with each step toward the bedroom, the tightness in your chest loosens—just a little.

You force a smile onto your face, though it feels more like a mask than anything real. 

Luke is lying on the bed in just his boxers, scrolling through his phone. Your heart skips a beat as you take in his tall, athletic frame. His hair is still damp from his post-game shower.

"Luke, I’m so proud of you tonight," you say, sitting down beside him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "The whole team was amazing. I can’t believe you guys beat the Leafs! You really played your hearts out."

He smiles at you, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. You try to ignore it.

“I’m gonna make us some hot chocolate to celebrate,” you add, standing up. “I know how much you love it after a game.” You try to sound upbeat, like everything is fine, but as you turn toward the door, you feel his hand gently catch yours.

“Hey,” Luke says softly, pulling you back toward the bed. “Why didn’t you talk to me about the video?”

You freeze.

He’s holding you close now, his gaze steady, but there’s a quiet hurt in his eyes. “I saw it online. And I saw the comments as well. I… I don’t want to push you, but I need to know why you didn’t tell me.”

You bite your lip, your heart hammering in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been avoiding. You feel all your walls start to crumble.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know you have so much on your plate—your career, the pressure from the team. And I—I didn’t want to be another thing weighing you down. But when I saw those comments, when I heard what they said tonight… I just—I felt like I didn’t belong. Like I’m too old, too ugly, not thin enough… like…I just—”

Your voice wavers, thick with emotion, but Luke doesn’t rush you. He just waits, patient and steady, his eyes soft with understanding as he gives you the space to let it out.

“I think this was my breaking point,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been fighting from the start—trying to prove myself to everyone. And I know you’ve been fighting too—don’t get me wrong, I know you’ve had my back every step of the way. But first, it was Quinn, questioning if I was really with you for the right reasons. Then your mom, who hated me from the beginning. I know they all love me now, but it wasn’t easy. It’s been so stressful, Lukey.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “And then today at your game... what those girls said about me—it hit hard. I tried to brush it off, but then someone recorded it and posted it online. I felt humiliated, Luke. And when I checked the comments... they were brutal. Nasty, hurtful things. It’s messing with my head, and I don’t know how to ignore it anymore. I’ve never been this insecure. But ever since we’ve been together, all I hear is that I’m not enough. Not pretty enough, not young enough, not enough to be your partner.”

Your voice catches, a quiet sob slipping through before you can stop it. The moment it does, Luke moves. He doesn’t hesitate—he just pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. His hand finds the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your damp hair as he holds you close.

"I just… I wanted today to be about you, not about me." A shaky breath escapes you as you drop your gaze, fingers twisting nervously in your lap. "You played so well tonight, and all I wanted was to celebrate you. But instead, I let this—let them—get to me. And I hate that."

Luke exhales softly, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. When he speaks, his voice is quiet but sure, full of something unshakable.

“You are more than enough,” he murmurs, the words sinking into you like warmth on a cold night. “You always have been. You always will be. You’re everything to me.”

Luke doesn’t let go. His arms stay wrapped around you, his hand resting against the back of your head like he’s trying to shield you from the weight of the world. You don’t realize how tightly you’re clinging to him until he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek.

For a moment, he just studies you, his gaze searching, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your face. Then, without a word, he reaches over to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer. You watch as he hesitates for just a second before pulling something out, something small, something that glints under the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

A ring with a stunning, oversized diamond that catches the light with every movement.

Your breath faltered.

“I need you to listen to me,” Luke says, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—something raw, something real. He holds the ring between his fingers, turning it slightly so the light bounces off the metal. “I’m not asking you anything right now, okay? So don’t freak out.”

You blink, heart hammering in your chest.

He exhales, a quiet laugh escaping, but there’s no nervousness in his expression—only certainty. “I bought this after our first date.” His eyes flicker up to yours, searching for your reaction. “After you left my apartment that night… I just knew. I knew what I wanted. What I wanted with you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out.

Luke swallows hard, his fingers tightening around the ring like it holds the weight of everything he feels for you. His eyes never leave yours, soft yet unwavering, full of a love so deep it steals the breath from your lungs.

“I didn’t buy this because I thought we’d rush into anything,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I bought it because from the moment you walked out of my apartment after our first date, I knew.” He pauses, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, tracing invisible patterns on your skin. “I knew that someday, this is where we’d end up. That no matter how much time passed, no matter what life threw at us, it was always going to be you.”

Your throat tightens, tears pooling in your eyes, but they don’t fall—not yet.

Your breath catches, and Luke lifts your hand, pressing the ring into your palm, letting you feel the solid weight of it.

“You are my safe place,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your skin, warm and reassuring. “No matter what happens in my career—if I have the best season of my life or if I screw up every game—I know I get to come home to you. And that means more to me than anything.”

Your fingers tremble as they curl around the ring, feeling the cool metal press into your skin.

Luke’s lips twitch into a soft, knowing smile, his dimples peeking through. “I’m not asking you to marry me right now. I know you’d think it’s too soon, and I want to do this right—when you're ready. But I need you to know… this is my plan. You are my plan.” His voice drops lower, thick with love, with certainty. “I want to spend my life with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. I want a house filled with love and warmth. And laughter—so much laughter.” His grin widens, eyes sparkling. “Kids' laughter. A lot of kids, running around, driving us crazy, making our house a home.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but you’re smiling, your heart so full it feels like it might burst.

Luke lifts a hand, gently wiping away the tear with his thumb before cupping your face. “I just needed you to know that no matter what anyone says, no matter what doubts creep into your head… you are everything I have ever wanted. And one day, when the time is right, I’m going to put this ring on your finger for real.” Luke’s thumb traces slow, soothing circles against your cheek, his gaze still locked onto yours. “Just promise me one thing,” he murmurs. “Be honest with me. Always. No more hiding when you’re hurting, no more keeping things in because you think you have to protect me. We’re a team, okay? You and me.”

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to look away. You nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Okay,” you whisper. “I promise.”

And then, the words just spill out—because how could you not say them?

“I love you, Luke.” Your voice is full of emotion, thick with everything you feel for him. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes.” A watery laugh escapes as you shake your head. “And I know it sounds ridiculous, but I want this too. The house, the laughter, the kids running around and driving us insane. I want all of it. With you.”

Luke’s smile is so wide, so full of love, that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. But you’re not done. Because it’s not just the big things—it’s the little things too.

“I love how you have to eat the same exact snack after every game because you’re convinced it’s good luck, even though you definitely don’t need it,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “I love the way you belt out the wrong lyrics to every song in the shower like you’re performing at Madison Square Garden.”

Luke lets out a laugh, shaking his head, but you can see the way his ears turn red.

“And I love that you send me the dumbest texts—even when we’re literally in the same apartment,” you add with a grin. “Like, do you really need to text me just to ask if we have ice cream when you could just open the freezer?”

His laugh is full and unguarded, his arms tightening around you as he buries his face in your neck. “Okay, that one’s fair,” he admits, voice muffled against your skin.

You tilt your head back, looking at him, feeling completely at home in his arms. “I love all of you, Luke. The good, the bad, the absolutely ridiculous.” Your voice softens as your fingers trace along his jaw. “And no matter what happens—no matter what anyone says—you’ll always be my favorite thing.”

Luke exhales, his forehead resting against yours, his hands holding you like he never wants to let go. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispers.

You smile, tilting your chin up just enough to brush your lips against his. “I think I do.”And when he kisses you, slow and deep, you know without a doubt—this is it. This is home. He is home.

[dem0batz]

Just Pretend

Caleb x MC // Love and Deepspace

Author's Note: I don't normally update this frequently so please don't expect me to continue to pump out chapters for this au at the pace that I have been. I'm just following the brain worms. Summary: Based on the main story track when MC is staying in Skyhaven with Caleb. You develop a minor cold and accidentally fall asleep the night you were supposed to rescue Kevi, unbeknownst to you that it was very intentional on Caleb's part. 🔞Content Warnings: Dead Dove; Do Not Eat, afab!mc, she/her!mc, yandere!Caleb, pseudocest, drugging MC, stalking (filed under “surveillance”), angst, brief mention of pregnancy and pregnancy loss, noncon, somnophilia, oral (f. rec), masturbation, breeding kink, cream pie Word Count: ~3000 words | read on AO3 | Chapter List

“Maybe you should take tonight to rest instead of meeting up with your friends, pip-squeak. You’ve been coughing all day.”

Caleb phrased it like a suggestion but you took it for what is was. Some things never change and his bossy tendencies was one of them. You had no intention of staying in tonight, cold or not— you promised Kevi you would help him and Zayne was waiting for you to bring the boy to him so he could be smuggled out of Skyhaven before the fleet found him.

As much as you wanted to trust your brother, there was something nagging at you that he was a different Caleb than the one you grew up with. You weren’t sure whose side he would take— yours or theirs should it be found out that you are secretly suspicious of the Farspace Fleet and investigating them.

“You’re probably right,” you say, exaggerating a cough.

“I’m always right,” he teases. “Besides, Skyhaven is under lockdown tonight while the fleet conducts a clean up.”

He disappears further into the apartment and returns a few moments later with two white pills in the center of his palm. You eye the pills warily.

“Cough suppressants,” he reassures.

A weight leaves your chest. You must be feeling especially paranoid with the whole Mia and Kevi situation. You don’t trust the Fleet but Caleb would never put you in danger, despite what his orders were.

You truly believed that. He was just trying to look out for your well-being. Taking the cough suppressants would probably help with the worst of your symptoms tonight anyway.

“Thanks,” you accept the medication. Caleb watches you chase down the pills with a glass of water, a satisfied smile on his face. “Why the need for the lockdown?”

“I see you haven’t gotten any less nosy over the years,” he accuses playfully.

“And you haven’t gotten any less avoidant over the years,” you counter. Still, you continue to probe. “Is it classified?”

Huffing a laugh and shaking his head, Caleb cages you against the counter. His eyes dance playfully across your face, left hand coming up to cup your jaw. You find it a little odd, considering that he was right-handed but you quickly push it from your mind, heart racing at the feeling of his proximity. His thumb strokes your cheek, subtly checking your skin for a rise in heat to ensure you haven’t caught a fever. At least that’s what he tells himself, and it’s partially true, but really he just wanted an excuse to touch you again after nearly a year of missing the feeling.

“No, it’s not classified,” he eventually gives. It wouldn’t hurt to allow you this small bit of information. “A weird fluctuation in the tunnel is riling up the Wanderers. So teams are being sent out tonight to handle it. But it’s nothing you need to worry about because you’ll be resting. Right?”

Thankful for your years of training at the academy, you school your face though guilt wracks through you for the lie you were about to tell. Yes, you believed Caleb would always put your safety first, but you still didn’t know how involved he was in this situation with the kids. You couldn’t risk letting them down. If it turned out you were wrong and the Fleet really had their best interests in mind, then you would tell Caleb the truth once Kevi was out of Skyhaven.

“First of all, I’m a Hunter and eliminating Wanderers is my job. So of course it’s something for me to worry about,” you narrow your eyes defiantly.

The lop-sided smirk on his face only grows in amusement. He always got his entertainment out of picking fights with you and then making it up to you afterward. But things were different now. You were different now. You had to learn to survive without the safety net Caleb provided. He needed to take your job seriously and recognize that you were more than capable.

“Unfortunately though, you happen to be right about me needing to rest and get over this cough. I need to return to work next week and I would hate for a mild cold to keep me from my job.”

At the mention of returning to work, his face drops, lips pursing disapprovingly. Caleb never did like the idea of you going into such a hands-on, dangerous profession but Gran always kept him from interfering with your career too much. Now that she was gone, there wasn’t anyone to bat away the insane thoughts of keeping you locked up at bay. Truth be told, his reaction was less to do with your job now and everything to do with you leaving Skyhaven. Thankfully, those thoughts didn’t win out today as he nods, backing away and changing the subject.

The distance between you was back to feeling cold and empty.

“I need to get ready for my shift. I’ll make sure to say goodnight before I head out. Get some rest, pip-squeak.”

The way he went from hot to cold gave you the worst kind of whiplash. One minute he was playful and fun, and the next he was closed off and felt far away and unreachable, even more so than when he was “dead”.

You swallow down the painful lump in your throat as you watch the back of his white sweater disappear down the hallway to the guest room he had been staying in during your visit since you have been staying in his.

After going through your usual bed time routine so as to not make Caleb suspicious, you crawl into the large soft bed. Rolling over on your side, you cozy up to watch raindrops hit the floor-to-ceiling window as yet another storm dumps on Skyhaven. You had every intention of feigning sleep until Caleb left but somewhere along the way, your eyes grew so heavy that it was impossible to keep them open. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep and when you did, it was like being submerged in a warm, soothing bath that you couldn’t seem to come out of, falling into such a deep sleep that not even dreams or nightmares could touch you.

Many hours later, an exhausted Caleb returns home. He doesn’t even bother shedding his damp uniform, leaving the OTTO unit to clean up the trail of water left behind from his soaked boots. He only has one destination in mind after a long night cleaning up the streets of his city. 

Caleb pushed open his bedroom door a crack. Peering from beneath the bill of his uniform cap, his eyes dart over your sleeping form. He takes a moment to admire the sight of you curled up in his bed, waiting for him to return home from work. It was something he spent his entire adult life dreaming of and now it was a reality, even if wasn’t of your own doing. Very little was when it was left up to him.

He was trained to sus out lies in interrogation rooms and could read you better than a book. After all these years, you still had the same tells though you had gotten better at concealing them. To anyone else, you likely would have been the perfect little liar but he knew your face and your body language better than anyone, despite what your new little boyfriends thought.

Yeah, he knew about them.

It was his job to know things and above everything else, you were always his first priority of business. He had continued to keep a close eye on you after his recovery post-explosion. Even if the professor hadn’t assigned you to his charge as a secret mission, Caleb would have done it regardless. His Colonel rank only gave him more resources to keep tabs on you, even if that meant occasionally having to destroy certain types of evidence to keep you safe. There were some places you went where he wasn’t able to keep watch— the N109 Zone, specifically. But it didn’t take long for the Onychinus leader to show his face in Linkon City.

Sylus may have been wealthy and full of resources competing with his own that kept his identity unknown to most other government and military entities, but he was difficult to ignore when he started showing up everywhere you went in Linkon. Wasn’t exactly subtle in the way he was pursuing you, touching you like you belonged to him.

But he would be dealt with later.

Out of all of your admirers, there was one in particular that set Caleb’s teeth on edge and that was his former best friend.

It was no secret that Gran always pushed you and Zayne together which is why Caleb invited him into your bedroom in the first place. He wanted to make sure that Zayne understood the only way he would ever get to have you was because Caleb allowed it. For years, it would seem that he received that unspoken message, never making a move on you beyond the permission Caleb directed in those intimate moments. It didn’t take long for the doctor to take advantage of your loneliness though, to swoop in and be your shoulder to cry on in his absence.

If any of your boyfriends deserved the Farspace Colonel’s wrath, it was Zayne.

This was personal.

Now that you knew the truth of Caleb’s life, there was no reason to continue to sit back and watch those four continue to take what was his. You didn’t need anyone else when you had him.

Caleb pushed the thoughts of those other men out of his mind, not wanting to spoil this rare moment he had to watch you in person again, comfortable and pliable in his sheets.

Just like when you were younger, the blanket was tossed to the side with one leg in and one leg out like your body couldn’t decide whether it was hot or cold. This gave Caleb a view of your body, his familiar oversized aviation tee that you had stolen years ago covering you. He can’t believe you still had it, and wore it regularly by the look of the thinning material. It rode up your torso, teasing a view of your stomach. The temptation to keep his hands to himself is impossible as a leather gloved finger traces the hem of your sleep shorts.

Caught in his thoughts, he’s thrown back to your sophomore year of college. He was in his last year of pilot training but made the trip from Skyhaven to Linkon as often as he could to see you. One particular weekend, he surprised you with with a visit and you surprised him with a positive pregnancy test. He was over the moon, thinking of the best way to break the news to Gran and trying to convince you to finally let him put a ring on your finger. Not that he needed your permission because he wouldn’t accept no for an answer, but hearing you say yes of your own accord would be ideal.

Yes, you were both young but he’s loved you for as long as he could remember and spending your lives together was always the plan. Not to mention, he’s been looking for a way to convince you to stay out of the Hunter’s Academy for years— a baby was the perfect reason to keep you off of such a dangerous career path. You didn’t need to risk your life when he would always be there to take care of you. Both of you.

That all came crashing down when you miscarried just a few days later.

He was devastated.

You were relieved.

Your relief broke his heart and made him angry, feeling like he was grieving the loss of your baby alone but he would never expect you to carry the burden of his pain so he kept it to himself. Regardless, he hadn’t let go of his plan for your life together; the timeline would merely be pushed back a little. He’d been patient for years at this point. A couple more wouldn’t hurt.

That was, until the explosion that left him dead to the world and confined to a bed during his recovery. For a while, he let go of that silly dream, content to watch you live your life from afar while he kept you safe from the clouds above. But now that you knew the truth and were back in his life, he felt a flicker of hope return.

Pushing the t-shirt further up your body, he hunches over to press a trail of soft wet kisses across the skin, imaging what you’ll look like swollen and heavy with his baby.

“I’m going to put another one inside you one day,” he continues peppering his lips over your stomach then resting his forehead there as his cap rolls off his head to land on the mattress. “This is my vow. As soon as I deal with the professor and we’re both safe, we will finally have the life we were always meant to, pip.”

You begin to stir under his touch, the feeling of his soft damp tendrils brushing your skin, tickling you even so deep in your sleep. The soft gasp of his name on your sleepy lips is enough to make him harden uncomfortably in his uniform pants, the starchy material leaving very little growing room. He can’t help but to bury his face in between your legs, inhaling the familiar scent of you with a shudder. It’s enough to leave the rational part of his mind behind, the last shred of his self-control slipping since your arrival as he pulls your sleep shorts down and tosses them to the side along with his jacket and gloves.

Caleb palms himself through the now unbearably tight pants before unzipping them for some relief. Kneeling back onto the bed, he carefully shoulders his way between your thighs, admiring the sight of your beautiful pussy and inhaling you again, feeling a sense of home for the first time in nearly a year. The temptation was too much to resist.

Just one taste.

That was all he needed to get by until he could convince you that this is where you belonged.

With him.

Knowing you wouldn’t wake up with the pills he fed you earlier, he flicks out his tongue to lightly spread your folds, teasing himself with the hint of your comforting flavor. He hadn’t completely lied about the nature of the pills— they would certainly heal up that cough of yours but would knock you out for a solid 12 hours before you came out of it. They basically put the consumer into a temporary coma to encourage a quickly healing process. The medication was not available for public consumption, reserved only for fleet members who needed a quick recovery but his rank gave him access that most others did not have.

Earlier, he had felt guilty for deceiving you but reminded himself that you were lying about staying in to rest and likely intended to sneak out once he was gone. He couldn’t have you wandering around Skyhaven alone at night without his protection. Not to mention, he never would have been able to do this if he hadn’t pushed you to take the medicine.

Your flavor explodes on the tip of his tongue, causing his hips to jerk into the mattress as he throws your legs over his shoulders to deepen his kiss to your center. Licking through the seam, he seeks out your clit, teasing and sucking it between his lips until you’re swollen and slick, gushing around his mouth with sleepy sighs and moans as you came on his tongue. Even if you wouldn’t remember it, he needed to make you orgasm, missing the feeling of you falling apart beneath him as if a piece of himself had been missing for ten long months.

This was the most alive he’s felt since he died.

Rising to his knees, chest rising and falling in heavy pants with your essence coating his chin, Caleb pulls his hard cock free. His head falls back in ecstasy as his hand cradles his girth. With you lying there and the lack of feeling in his right hand, he could almost pretend you were the one tugging on it, bringing him to the brink.

“Fuck, pretty girl. Missed you so damn much,” he pants, left hand climbing up your soft thigh to thumb your slick clit again. He had always been addicted to touching you, but now it was like going on a bender after getting sober and he couldn’t get enough.

Surprising himself with the quickness of his orgasm, he spurts all over you with a pained groan. Ropes of white coat the inside of your thighs and stomach, and he can’t tear his eyes away. When there’s nothing left to give, he slumps down, admiring the sight of his claim. Heart pounding in his chest, another intrusive thought invades his mind, bouncing off of the walls of his skull until he gives into the compulsion. Scooping the spend up with his fingers, he carefully stuffs you full of it, your pussy sucking them in like it was welcoming him home.

Slicking back his damp hair, Caleb feels like the storm clouds of his mind have been temporarily settled, allowing him to think clearly again. Guilt once again floods him as he thinks about what he’s done, always at war with himself when it came to you. He busies himself with cleaning you up and redressing you, ensuring to leave no tangible evidence of what he had done behind. Only the knowledge that he had left a piece of him behind for you to take back home with you. 

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[wildernessuntothemselves]

Soulmate(s) | Part 2

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: In a world where you get the name of your soulmate tattooed on your skin the night you turn 21, there should be no reason to even think about fucking around with anyone else. Why would you when you know that the perfect person who is made just for you is somewhere out there waiting for you to find them? 

So how the hell did you end up messing around with your two best friends and what are you going to do if neither of them ends up being your soulmate or worse, what if one of them is your soulmate?

Warnings: fem!reader, soulmates au, this is not a light fic, there will be backstabbing and manipulation, sub!soobin, dom!gyu, switch/gyu, handjob, cunnilingus, blowjob, tit-fucking, cumming all over oc lol

____________________________

Beomgyu and Soobin have been trying to convince you to hook up with them again since you’ve last done it, something you’ve been very hesitant to do. You’d only really meant to kiss Soobin. You didn’t mean for Beomgyu to get involved or for things to go this far, but it seems you’ve opened Pandora's box now as the two boys have only become bolder and more insatiable since then–begging and pleading you to join them every time you were alone together. 

Yes, join them, as they clearly have not been waiting for your permission to continue their forbidden rendezvous, and they’re making sure you know. Like right now, you were supposed to have your regular movie night together but none of you were paying any attention to the movie. The two boys are loudly kissing on the couch as Beomgyu’s hand moves under Soobin’s pants– the wet sounds of their kissing and their heavy moans and grunts would make it impossible to hear the movie if you were even trying to. 

But you’re not, and you can’t pretend you are. They can clearly see the stern frown you’re throwing at them, but they don’t care, Beomgyu’s face buried in the older boy’s neck as he jerks him off in his pants. 

Soobin whines your name out, the plea clear in his voice, and it would make you wet if you weren’t already soaked. “Come here, please. I want to kiss you.” 

Ugh, the siren call. It was one thing for Beomgyu to beckon you towards this sin with his smirking face and cocky attitude, but it’s another thing entirely for your good little Soobin to so sweetly, so cunningly, try to break your inhibitions. No, he’s not sweet or innocent. He knows what he’s doing and it’s fucking working. 

Beomgyu lifts his head from Soobin’s wet neck to level you with his heavy gaze as he pulls Soobin’s cock out of his pants. “Come on, baby, look how much he needs you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together. Damn them. Damn them to hell. 

“It doesn’t look like he needs me. Looks like you’re taking care of him all right on your own.” You impress yourself by being able to speak through your completely parched throat. 

“Yeah, but I’m sure he’d like it extra hard if your pretty mouth was on his cock.” At this, he twists his hand around Soobin’s head and the older boy cries out. “Yes, please, please, want it.” 

“Shut up.” You curse him under your breath as your hand finally moves between your legs to soothe the burning need there. You’ve watched them do this way too many times now. It burned you with both need and jealousy because, damn it, you want to be with them too but it’s wrong! You can’t do this. You need to stop it and remain loyal to your destined soulmate. 

But like a vulture, Beomgyu jumps at the first sign of weakness from you. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that.” He tugs on your arm, pulling it away from your pussy, making you almost growl at him. How dare he?! Hasn’t he tortured you enough? 

But you don’t get the chance to chew him out because he pulls you onto his lap, your back facing his front and his very hard cock pressing against your lower back, his large warm hands on your inner thighs and the precum from Soobin’s dick sticking to your skin. 

“Let us take care of you.” He purrs in your ears, his hands massaging your sensitive thighs, so close yet so far from where you need him the most. You try to close your legs but he doesn’t let you, and you can’t fucking think with his hot breath on your skin. “Let us make it stop hurting.” 

“Fucking asshole.”

He laughs at your response, one of his hands getting impossibly close to your pussy. “Is that a yes?” 

“Just get it over with.” 

Now you know Beomgyu would’ve liked a more enthusiastic response than that but you also know that he’ll take what he can get, and after weeks of begging and whoring around, he finally gets to touch you, his long fingers pressing over your covered slit. 

“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He moans, greedily pushing your shorts to the side so he can fully feel how wet you really are, his fingers easily gliding over your wet lips, and you keen, your back arching at the sudden intense stimulation. 

“I hate you.” You still put up your act, but Beomgyu doesn’t care, just focusing on breaking you down on his fingers. And break you do, gushing out even more slick as he alternates between rubbing your clit and sliding his fingers up and down your pussy. 

You almost forget that you’re not the only two people there for a second, too lost in the intense pleasure, until Soobin whines and you see him moving out of the periphery of your vision to take center stage on the floor in front of you. 

“Can I try it now, Beommie?” The older boy’s hands sear your skin as he pushes your thighs further apart and presses his face right between them. You shriek, reflexively attempting to close your legs once again at the embarrassing and exposed position you’ve found yourself in but you stand no chance against the two boys splaying you open for their pleasure. 

“You’re scaring her, idiot.” Beomgyu snaps at Soobin but you can see that the older boy is only half listening, too focused on the way Beomgyu’s fingers continue to play with your pussy. “Should’ve waited a bit.” 

“But I can’t wait any longer!” Soobin whines and you crane your head to try to catch Beomgyu’s eyes. “Wait for what? What are you two shits planning?” 

Beomgyu uses the opportunity of you turning your head towards him to steal a quick kiss from your lips. “Binnie just wanted a taste. He’s been talking about it nonstop. Will you let him have a little taste?” 

Your eyes widen. “You’ve both lost your minds. You really think I’ll let him do that? You’re both perverts!���

Soobin starts loudly whining, attempting to plead his case, attempting to convince you that he–the man with his dick out at your feet and begging to eat you out–is not a pervert. But Beomgyu snaps at him, shutting him up. 

“Forget it. You ruined it. She doesn’t want it.” He hisses at the older boy who amazingly cowers back and shuts up. “Here, this is enough for you.” He takes his hand off your pussy and pushes the wet fingers against Soobin’s pillowy lips. You gasp as the other boy immediately opens up to suck them in, moaning out obscenely as if it’s the tastiest sweet he’s ever had. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, pulling his hand away from Soobin and making them both protest. 

“Why?!” 

“Come on, let him have this.” 

“You’re both disgusting.” 

“What’s disgusting about wanting to taste our lover?” Beomgyu asks, and you shiver at the word–lover. Are you lovers? Why does that word make your heart flutter so much? “You must’ve seen the educational tapes. This is a perfectly normal part of pleasuring your mate, just like if you were to suck his cock.” 

“Oh, I would not do that. No way.” Your face flushes heatedly as you vehemently deny you’d do such a dirty thing. “It wouldn’t even fit…”

You know cunnilingus is a normal sex act but it feels too intimate to share with someone who isn’t your soulmate–with your two fucking best friends. 

“Now you’re just being a tease.” Beomgyu growls, eyes darkening at your choice of words. 

“Please,” Soobin inches closer to you again, his big bunny eyes staring up at you as his plush lips stop centimeters away from your needy pussy, so deprived that even his breath makes you shiver. 

You’ve already done so much together. Would it really be so bad to let him do this? He seems to really want it, and you can’t deny the fact that you want it too. They’ve both teased you way too much already. Why are you teasing yourself? 

“Okay.” 

“Oh, than–” You can’t even hear the rest of his appreciation as it gets smushed against your lower lips. 

“Fuck.” You curse lowly, feeling a strange mixture of awkwardness and pleasure as Soobin finds his way around your pussy–first very clumsily but slowly getting more deliberate, guided by the boy behind you. 

“Slow down.” He tells him when Soobin gets too rowdy, “Flatten your tongue out. Focus here.” He instructs as if he’s done this before and somehow it’s working. You’re slowly but surely feeling your high build up. 

“How the fuck do you know so much?” You grit out, asking Beomgyu. 

“I watch the videos a lot.” He admits easily, referring again to the education videos all of you are provided when you get closer to your 21st birthday so you’d know what to expect when you finally meet your lover. “Wanna make sure my soulmate will be thanking their lucky stars they ended up with me.” 

You roll your eyes. Yeah, right. The pervert probably is just using them to get off every night if what you’ve witnessed of his libido these past few weeks is any indication. “I don’t remember the educational videos containing such filth. Are you sure you haven’t been watching those soulmateless degenerates instead?” You accuse, referring to the taboo tapes sold secretly by some of those who have either never gotten a soulmate or have lost them in one way or another.

In a society such as your own, where almost everyone has a second half, those without their fated partners end up being shunned. They simply freak people out. After all, why don’t they have someone? What is so wrong with them that the universe has chosen to curse them to a life where they’ll never know the touch of true love? 

Even still, not all of them start out totally isolated. After all, they were once just like all of you with loving families and supportive friends before their terrible fates were revealed on the very day that was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives–expecting to be given eternal love and instead finding themselves with a gaping hole in their hearts that is only fated to grow bigger and bigger every passing day.

Their loved ones may try to cheer them up. They may try to convince them that they could still lead a normal life. They try to pretend that nothing has changed, but everything has changed. Their lives could never be the same after that. They know it and everyone around them knows it too. They would never be in love. They would never marry and have a family. They would never know what it’s like to finally feel whole. And it slowly gets to them. The older they grow, the bigger the gap in their heart grows and they begin to resent those around them. They begin to begrudge those who have what they never will. They turn angry and bitter and they start lashing out at the very people who tried to help them. 

They start to seek out the passion that is missing from their lives in other places. Some turn to drugs, some turn to sex and some take on dangerous and risky jobs just to feel alive. They may even come to gain some respect and prominence in society depending on how they choose to chase those thrills. But it would never be enough. They would always have to do more and more to get even a fraction of the natural bliss that comes from finding your soulmate and knowing you’re finally home, and they start losing themselves bit by bit, chasing even riskier and riskier highs until they burn out. 

You shudder at the thought. That is your worst fear. To be left abandoned by the universe. 

You’re thankfully torn out of your gloomy thoughts when Beomgyu unceremoniously pulls your shirt up over your chest to expose your breasts which he cups in his hands and expertly kneads, massaging the soft flesh and pulling at your pebbled nipples. 

Instantly, pleasure floods your brain and drowns out the scary thoughts until all you can think of is how strong and solid he feels against you, how his long sure fingers touch you so well, and how sexy his deep voice sounds in your ear as he continues to instruct Soobin on what to do. 

“Fuck.” You cry, arching into his touch, throwing your legs wider apart and inadvertently pushing your pussy against Soobin’s face, his nose brushing against your clit and causing a spasm to go through your body. “I’m close. Don’t stop.” 

Through blurry eyes you see Beomgyu grab Soobin’s hair and push him even further against your pussy, rubbing his face against you as the older boy excitedly lets his tongue flick between your lower lips, filling the room with an obscene wet noise that rises even louder than the ringing in your ears. 

“Soobinnie, fuck!” You groan and Beomgyu nips at your neck, lightly grazing the skin of your neck with his teeth, careful not to mark you, and pinches your nipples between his fingers, pulling your orgasm right out of you. 

“Yes, yes, I’m cumming!” You scream out, your orgasm ripping through your body as both boys ruthlessly continue playing with you, not letting up until you start tearing up. “Enough, enough, too much.” 

Beomgyu is the first to stop. It takes him pushing Soobin away for the other boy to stop too–whether not caring or not hearing, you don’t know, but when he is detached from your pussy, you see how his entire lower face is now covered in your slick–his pretty lips even bigger and puffier from the activity. 

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath and Beomgyu laughs. 

“He's so good, isn't he baby? Those dirty lips were made just for this.” He pulls Soobin's head back to run his thumb over his wet lips. “He’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy, huh?”

Beomgyu's the one who’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy. Though Soobin has done most of the work, it’s Beomgyu's constant filth in your ears that worked you up so much. It’s like he can get you both to do anything and it scares you. 

What if you end up cursed because you’ve gotten greedy and chose to seek out the pleasure and intimacy that is supposed to only come from your soulmate from someone else? 

“This is so wrong.” You slur and Soobin frowns, pulling your leg down so he can place your foot over his hard cock, blissfully oblivious to the turmoil happening inside your brain. “It would still be wrong after you get us off.” 

You glare at him as Beomgyu bursts out laughing behind you. “Fucker.” 

“He’s right, baby. It’s unfair to say this after we’ve already gotten you off.” He grinds his cock against your ass and you hate how that still makes you burn. “I said it from the start, asshole.” 

“Well then it won’t make a difference if you get us off too.”  

He slips out from under you to stand up in front of you, pushing his shorts down and shamelessly giving his hard cock a few pumps right in front of your face. “Look how hard you got me with your pretty little moans.”

“You're disgusting.” You scoff but Soobin also rushes to his feet, his own cock already out ages ago. 

“Me too. Wanna feel your touch too. Beommie is too mean. He always teases too much.”

At the mention of their previous hookups you get jealous again. They have done so much without you it’s not fair. What if one of them is your soulmate and you’re missing out on all your first experiences together because you won’t join them. You know you like them both, and you know they like you too. Soulmates can feel a connection even before the names are revealed so it’s not unlikely that one of them is destined for you. 

At least that is how you justify to yourself the jealous drive that prompts you to reach out to grab their cocks, one in each hand, jerking them off slowly but firmly. 

“Fuck yeah.” Beomgyu groans, throwing his head back slightly in pleasure but keeping his eyes on you

“Your hands are so small.” Soobin marvels and Beomgyu adds, “And so soft.” 

You blush, feeling shy under their intense gazes. You try to fix your clothes to cover yourself up but they immediately protest. 

“No, why? You look so sexy.” Soobin cries, grabbing your hand and putting it back on his cock. 

“Come on, it will get us off much faster seeing your pretty tits out like this.” Beomgyu spews filthily, and you glare up at him, but he just smirks. “Fuck, you’re even sexy when you’re angry. Wonder how much better you’ll look with your face covered in my cum and your tits covered in Soobin’s.” 

The older boy squeaks at that, pushing his hips forward so the head of his long cock brushes against your nipple, smearing a light sheen of precum over it. 

“Soobin!” You gasp, glaring at him, but Beomgyu cups your face and turns it towards him. “Come on, baby, let him have his fun. He’s been so good to you, hasn’t he? Eaten out that pretty little pussy so well, yeah?” He drawls out, his thumb brushing over your lips. 

You get so pulled in by his heated gaze that you let Soobin do what he wants, rubbing his cock again and again across your tits while Beomgyu pushes his thumb into your mouth. 

“Good girl. You wanna be such a good girl for us, don’t you?” He purrs, completely enchanting you somehow. He uses his thumb in your mouth and his grip on your face to make you nod and you let him. How is he so good at this? And why are you letting him? 

“Wanna try your mouth.” He pleads, taking his thumb out of your mouth and gliding the head of his cock over your lips instead. You feel the wetness smear over them and your tongue instinctively peaks out to clean it up, in the process coming into contact with Beomgyu’s cock and making him gasp out in need. “Please.”

If you had planned to refuse him before, you couldn’t after seeing how weak and desperate just that little touch made him. You’ve been fantasizing about seeing him break again since that last time. He just looks so pretty when he loses it. 

“Just the tip.” You say and he curses. “Fuck, okay, baby, anything. Need it so bad.” 

And he pushes in. Just the tip as promised, but you feel like even that fills up your mouth. You wrap your lips around his head and press your tongue against the slit to lap up his precum like a lollipop. It immediately drives him mad and he throws his head back and cries out like a desperate slut. It makes you want to push him more and more so you intensify your efforts, hollowing out your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the head, watching his whole body shake as you suck and lap at the head of his cock. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it.” 

“Hey, no fair, we promised to share her.” Soobin’s whine jolts you out of the spell Beomgyu cast on you and your turn your head towards him to see him try to push his cock towards your mouth too. 

You take your mouth off Beomgyu, making him growl and snap at Soobin. “What the fuck, man? I was so close!” 

“Beomgyu, play nice.” You scold him, secretly loving the fact that they’re fighting for your attention. Those two have made your life a hot hell for the last few weeks with their little lewd shows. They made you horny and jealous and frustrated and you love giving them just a little bit of that energy back. And secretly you’re happy and relieved that they want you too–that they have not just found each other and abandoned you–that you still have a chance with one of them. 

“Binnie, I thought you wanted to fuck my tits.” You purr, repeating Beomgyu’s choice of words and making the tall boy shudder and his eyes grow heavy. Those boys really are suckers for dirty talk, huh? 

“Yeah but Beomgyu–”

“No buts.” You tighten your hand around his cock and pull him forward, pressing his cock flush against the middle of your chest and shutting him up. “Press my tits together so you can fuck them nice and hard. Don’t want you to stop until they’re covered in your cum.”

Soobin sucks in a sharp breath and rushes to do as you ordered, grabbing your breasts in his big hands and pressing them together before going off at a rough choppy pace. 

You feel a harsh tug at your hair as Beomgyu turns your head back towards him, your eyes meeting his narrowed ones, but as you open your mouth to chastise him for his roughness, he pushes his cock back in your mouth. 

You attempt to say something but with his incessant grip at the back of your head and his sloppy thrusts into your mouth, all that comes out is a wet garbled mess. Soon, you give up, just letting your two best friends use your body to get off, their tall frames looming over you and their filthy gazes eating you up as one fucks your mouth and the other fucks your tits. 

You feel so dirty yet so hot, and in that moment you understand the urge that drives those without soulmates to seek such lurid pleasures. If they end up together and you end up alone, you can see yourself falling victim to these desires. You just love them both so much, it scares you. You want them to be yours, and that terrifies you. Only one of them could be your soulmate. Neither of them could be your soulmate…

“Ah, I’m so close.” You hear Soobin whine. You try to look at him but Beomgyu doesn’t let you. Instead you see him reach out of the corner of your eyes to wrap his hand around Soobin’s cock and jerk him off fast, quickly pushing him over the edge. 

You can’t see it but you know he has cum when you hear the breathy shouts of your and Beomgyu’s names and feel his hot cum splattering across your chest. You whine around Beomgyu’s cock and start resisting the way he’s moving you over his cock as you feel your jaw becoming sore and your lips getting bruised. 

He sighs, letting you pull away a little bit, drool following behind his swollen length out of your mouth and down your chin and his hand as he grabs his cock it with the same hand he used to jerk Soobin off so he can now pump his own cock inches away from your face.  “Ready for it, baby?” 

Your mouth is so numb you can only muster out a little whimper that makes Beomgyu curse under his breath and his grip falter over his cock as he loses it, his cum shooting out in thick, white ropes over your face. You instinctively close your eyes, wincing as the warm sticky substance lands on your face. 

“No, look at me.” Beomgyu growls, tugging at your hair, the sting making your eyelids crack open slightly to lock eyes with Beomgyu and witness the last of his orgasm. “Good girl. Such a good girl.” 

“Fuck, that is so hot.” You hear Soobin mutter and the unmistakable wet sound of his hand moving over his spent cock as he watches Beomgyu treat you like a fucktoy. 

You feel so filthy–sitting there with your shirt pulled up and your shorts pushed to the side, exposed and absolutely covered in both their cums while they stare at you as if they’re not even close to having their fill. 

And you’re not either. God help you but you know that this is just the start. You’ve been pulled in and now you don’t think you can resist them anymore. 

This is bad. This is so bad and you know it won’t end well. 

______________________________

A/N: second chapter here, still not much plot but it will come I swear lol. the fics I have rn are so different, one only plot so far and one only smut. anyway let me know how we're feeling

[lostinlovingrevery]

Whistleblower

Weapon X! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: This is really different from what I usually write but I had this idea and I wanted to get it out there. I MAY make a smutty alt of this lol...

Plot: You're a doctor recruited to work at the research base Lake Alkali, where you eventually become the whistleblower on the immoral experiments used on mutants held inside, one particular man being the reason you finally spilled the secrets....

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, mentions of experiments, descriptions that could be a lil disturbing? reader get attacked (not by Logan teehee), reader is a mutant but no powers mentioned, reader feels bad for Logan lol, more of a plot based fic with some future romance implied?

Word Count: 4k+!

Fingers tapped rhythmically against a stack of papers. Jazz played in the background. A hot cup of tea, slowly cooling off as it becomes forgotten. 

You were sitting in your shabby little broom closet of an office. A ceiling light flickers above you. Filing cabinets stuffed full of documents and manilla folders lined the walls. A laptop sat on your desk, open to an email that you have typed out, attached to the email was files, and pictures.

Lots of pictures.

You looked up, at a shitty motivational picture of a person looking at a landscape of a mountain, and a quote plastered in bold text at the bottom, 

“AN IDEA WITHOUT ACTION IS NOTHING”

You had an idea. 

Whether you were brave enough to take action is the issue.

You’re a doctor. A scientist. Majored in medicine, and went back to grad school for biology, and even dabbled in some psychology. Your name was… controversial. Your studies and research revolved around mutants, and supported mutants. You have been torn down by other scientists, doctors, and even colleagues for your work. You didn’t care.

 A few years later your work got noticed by some higher-up government officials.  Another scientist by the name of William Stryker recruited you into his mission. A top secret base located at the beautiful and scenic lake Alkali. You were told that you would be helping the future of mutants and humans alike.

That was a fucking lie.

Initially, you didn’t know anything. You were moved onto the base, given your own personal quarters, something with a bedroom and bathroom and a space big enough to be a living area. You were given small amounts of clearance. You had weekends off. It was a 1 year contract.

 Your job at first was to check the physicals and health statuses of soldiers, give out flu shots, and occasionally run a physical on a “volunteer” for the experiment programs they ran in the base, experiments you didn’t have clearance on. You didn’t think anything of it at first, everything you saw seemed clean, and people were treated with respect. Time went on and suppose they began to trust your persons, so you moved up the ladder and took part in studies that were more your style. That’s when you began to feel like something was wrong.

Some of the research didn’t feel…ethical. It felt that the mutants were being treated like..animals. They talked about them like animals. At face level, the people who came in were volunteers- participating in studies in the name of science, sometimes a monetary reward was offered. Then you would notice that said volunteers never officially left. 

It was when you did some snooping around that you discovered some horrific truths. You found files, pictures, classified things that weren’t meant for your eyes. You were caught- of course you were caught. This was a top secret government research base. There were eyes everywhere. 

You were taken to Stryker, who gave you a firm lecture- as if he was scolding a child. He then asked you if you were still wanting to stay a part of the research team. He had noticed your wonderful work ethic, and your bright mind. Thought you’d do great to help out. He also implied your inevitable murder if you were to say no.

You said yes.

Not because of the bullshit excuse of “This is for the best of humanity and mutant-kind”. To perform immoral and cruel experiments on mutants in the name of discovery and America. Fuck that. You were smart, you had ambition. You also had empathy and a moral compass, unlike these arrogant pricks. 

They didn’t know you were a mutant too- at least, they never implied they did. Not that it matters. You were raised to be accepting of everyone, to treat people with kindness, to lend a hand. That’s why you became a doctor. You were half tempted to use your powers to create a rebellion, take the place out. There were too many people though, all prepared, they had weapons and tools meant for controlling mutants and subduing them. It would be over before it started. You weren’t exactly a fighter, even though your powers were strong, but you were clever.

You reread the email you have written out for the millionth time. You used a fake email. You had multiple VPNs and several other spyware you installed in an attempt to hide where the email came from. Honestly, though, it probably wouldn’t matter. They’ll know it’s you the second you hit send. They’ll come in, knock you out, and use you for their sick experiments too. 

Perhaps though, if this email goes to the person you’re hoping it does. Maybe it won’t take so long. It won’t be so bad.

You agreed to stay for a reason. For information. For evidence. You had to be careful of your reactions, of your words. They watched your every move. Looking for signs of any infractions against them. It took time but you earned the trust of the staff and the mutants. 

You were kind, you provided comfort to them. You whispered promises that you will help them and that they will be free. All the while you took discreet photos and made copies of files and reports secretly. You’ve been storing them in the vent next to you; you made a secret compartment inside so that when the head of security comes in for their monthly inspections they never find anything. Chief Hanlon. That guy is a huge dick. 

You thought back to the faces you’ve come to know. People with tortured eyes and permanent scars. It tugged at your heart. You felt guilty, for ever taking part in something like this, for ever agreeing to come to this hellish place.

The next face you think of is what pushes you to hit send. 

“Weapon X-” 

Dr. Stryker was walking you down a long, poorly lit, concrete corridor, guarded by men in military gear, holding assault rifles- all of them eyeing you suspiciously. Stryker was walking with a cocky smile and a swagger. It was 2 weeks ago, before you had been pushed to finally compile your evidence and find someone who could help you.

“My biggest achievement in my career.” He continues. You both stopped at the end of the corridor, and he punched a code into the keypad. The metal doors open, and you step into a large room. Surrounded by large machinery, scientists, and guarded personnel, sat a huge glass tube, filled with some kind of substance, and a man who sat suspended inside it. He motioned to the tube, almost like he was presenting it grandly to you. “My pride and joy.” 

It made you sick to your stomach at the sight. He was suspended in the tube- floating in the clear liquid-like substance. He had no clothing on, and you could make out the tense muscles of his body. Despite his burly appearance, he looked unhealthy- his skin was pale, his hair grown out, wild and untamed, from his head, down to his chin, his beard scruffy and long as well. Even his stomach seemed sunken in. 

Are they even feeding him?

 The metal wires that were attached to his skin went in various places, his arms, his chest, his legs, and his head. The Holter monitor at the bottom that sat in front of you reads his heart rate; It was faster than it should be for an average person. You made out dog tags around his neck- the only article of clothing on him. There was a large oxygen mask, covering his nose and mouth. 

His eyes were open- and staring at you. 

“A soldier I met in Vietnam. He’s a mutant- obviously, claw-like appendages that protrude from his fist.” Stryker explains. “He has an extraordinary ability to heal. He can recover from anything- bullets, stabbings, broken bones. He has heightened senses, incredible strength, and a fierce rage, making him the strongest weapon in the world.” He says proudly. “A few years ago, I convinced him to partake in an experiment that bound adamantium metal to his bones. He’s indestructible.” 

You swallowed, not taking your eyes off of him. This poor man, what must he feel? How much pain is he in?

“The machine keeps his body supported and alive, but the substance- something I invented- keeps him frozen in place, which is why the machine is needed. He wouldn’t be able to breathe, no heartbeat or anything. He’s come back from death plenty of times, we’ve researched that- but we rather not risk fully killing him, y’know?” Stryker laughs. You grimaced at him, your eyes turning to look at the man, examining his body - that’s when you saw the twitch of his pinky. 

Didn’t Stryker say he was frozen in place?

“What’s his name?”

“Name?” Stryker says, a bit surprised at your question. “Logan.” 

You were glad to have a name for the face. Calling him Weapon X, felt nothing but wrong.

“What is his…purpose?” You ask, tearing your eyes away, not mentioning the twitch. You knew what Stryker would say. 

“We use him to carry out missions that cannot be failed,” Stryker says. “He’s nearly impossible to control, hence why we keep him in this- and when we send him out, he’s equipped with a helmet that helps us keep track of his whereabouts and sends signals to tell him what to do.”

“Mind control?” You asked. You use him to kill people.

“Kinda.” He says, turning to the computer and typing in a few things. “Your job here will be just to monitor his vitals. We noticed spikes in heart rates and blood pressure lately. Rare moments, but something we’d like to keep an eye on. If it gets worse, you’ll be tasked to come up with a solution. He’s too valuable to lose.” 

You nodded. You could still feel Logan staring at you. 

After Stryker finished explaining everything, you were sent back to your day. Logan's face lingered in your head. The way his eyes stared at you. What was he thinking?

It was that night you began looking for help. Your mind would wrack through people you have met through your years when you remembered someone- someone from when you were in college. A kind man, who approached you regarding your paper of mutant psychology. A paper you wrote in research regarding how mutant lifestyles can be affected by their powers. It was widely controversial, considering mutants weren’t- and still aren’t- quite accepted in your society. Your peers and professors had tried to sway you from writing it, but you refused, not caring about the consequences. Mutants were forever treated as evil people, the news constantly reported the “bad” mutants. Nevermind the fact that there were still plenty out there, living normal lives. 

The man wanted to know more about you, your paper, and what you wanted to do after college. He confided in you that he had a school for mutants and invited you to come see it. At the time, you were too busy- but you always kept his card. You didn’t know how or why- but something about him told you that maybe he could help. You prayed to whatever God was out there, that this man, 

Charles Xavier

Could help you, Logan, and the others who were trapped here. 

After that, you spent the next week discreetly putting together everything to send to Charles. Anxiety wracked your head. What if he can’t help, what if he doesn’t help? Maybe he confided in his secret school of mutants, but what if he was just like Stryker and it was all a sham? 

You were doing your usual responsibilities when you went to check on Logan. It was two weeks ago today that you were in charge of monitoring his health. Your intuition told you that his spiked heart rates, the twitch of his pinky, and the way his eyes watched your movements- even though he shouldn’t be able to move at all, were not a coincidence or a sign of a failing health state. 

It was just you and a few guards that were stationed at the door.  You were observing the latest changes over the last 24 hours. The two guards were silent, and then one of them started talking, bringing up some workplace gossip.

“Hey, y’know, me and Miranda, we got a date Saturday night.” 

“Shit, she said yes to your dumbass?” 

“Man fuck you.” 

They were talking, and distracted. You turned to scowl at them, which they didn’t notice, both facing each other wrapped up in their own conversation. You looked back at the monitor, tapping your fingers on the table when you noticed movement. Your eyes glanced upwards, and you noticed the twitch of his toe. You looked farther up and his eyes were staring down at you. 

You looked back at the guards. Hesitating before silently standing up and moving closer to the tube. Your hand went up to the glass and gently pressed. You looked back at the guards once more, still gossiping and distracted. You looked up at Logan. Staring right into his eyes, and you mouthed to him, 

“I’ll get you out of here”

You’re not even sure if he would have understood you, if he could lipread. The others say his mind was too far gone to understand what’s going on around him, and the helmet is what gives him directions. They called him an animal.

“He’s a man. Not an animal.” You corrected them. They simply stared at you. You could feel their silent judgments. Has everyone lost their humanity here? How could you look at him and not see a person?

The way his eyes moved- staring at you, you felt there was something there, someone there. He was thinking. He was observing. You wanted him to know you were on his side. 

You had no other choice at this point. You were at your wit's end. Who cares about your safety, your own life if you get caught. These people deserved better. 

Now back in your office, you sent the email. Hopefully, Charles is good about checking his email- that he knew what to do, or you and everyone else here is fucked. You went to bed that night, unable to sleep, Logan’s eyes tearing through your mind. 

You walk on eggshells for three days, waiting for the moment someone confronts you, for them to break into your room and stick a bag over your head and throw you into a jail cell where you get to await whatever Stryker thinks you’ll be good for. 

You were starting to wonder if anything was going to happen, while you were sitting at your desk once again in your little office. Filling out various medical files- one on a woman who had snow-like powers. Stryker had ideas to use her against hot and dry environments, turn them frigid cold, in order to incapacitate enemies who were prepared for hot weather. At one point you believed this research wasn’t about warfare, or violence. You thought you would be helping mutants, understanding what made you, you. How you managed to let the wool go over your eyes you didn’t know. 

The blare of the alarm startled you out of your thoughts. Announcements of guards and soldiers to get into position, alerts of intruders coming to the base. 

You thought you were going to puke. 

You got up from your chair, unsure of what to do. Another announcement told staff to stay where they were. You tapped your fingers on the desk behind you as your brain wracked for ideas, should you go out and see what’s happening? Who were these intruders? 

Maybe it had something to do with the whistleblower email you sent several days ago.

You could hear footsteps of soldiers running down the hall past your door. 

What if this is my chance?

You could help them escape the mutants. The soldiers, the security, they were distracted by whoever was attacking - people you hoped were on your side. You knew the codes, you could fight a little bit yourself- even if it wasn’t your preference. You grabbed your lab coat off your chair, making sure your badge was still attached for access, throwing it on and you opened the door, peeking out into the hallway- empty.

Your heels clacked on the floor as you ran down the maze like hallways that you’ve become familiar with the last 6 months towards the elevators. The lights shut off suddenly, leaving you in darkness until emergency lights kicked on. The alarms were off now. The only thing you could hear was faint gunshots happening thankfully far away from you. 

You could barely see, the red lights of the elevators and stairway signs led you to the direction you wanted to be in. You carefully walked towards them, your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you went to the stairway door, pushing it open. 

Soft orange glow lit up the otherwise dark and very cold stairway. You could hear more gunfire. You turned to look back at the hall you came from, searching for any signs of people that may have been around, before going into the stairway, and climbing down the stairs.

With the power off, the captive mutants are likely escaping themselves already, which may explain the occasional gunfire. People fighting back you can only assume. If they’re fighting, you’re going to fight with them. 

You carefully made your way down the stairs, cautious to not trip due to the lack of lighting. You reached the floor that would lead you to the captive mutants. Your mind wandered to Logan. He was a few floors down. Maybe you can help him too?

You chose to go farther down the stairs. You had to do something. How could you not? 

You reached the floor you wanted to reach, and carefully pushed the door open, peeking out into the hall. Only small red emergency lights lit the dark empty halls, but they provided enough light for you to make out multiple bodies strewn across the floor. They were still, unmoving, and against your better judgment, you moved inside into the hall, checking one of the bodies.

It was one of the soldiers that usually stood guard in Logan's room. You kneeled down to check his pulse. No pulse.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, as you carefully walked down the hall, checking each body for pulses. You may have thought everyone who worked here was scum - but you were still a doctor and if there was something you could do, you would do it. 

After the 5th body you could confirm was dead, you quickly walked down the hall to Logan’s room. The door was wide open - and you could see from where you were, the tube that kept Logan immobile and suspended was broken apart. The substance that kept him frozen was leaking into a large puddle on the ground- where you could barely make out several more bodies on the floor. 

He was free

Judging by the state of the soldiers, you’re not sure if that’ll be a good thing for you. 

You took a couple of steps back, only to feel a hand on your shoulder, swinging you around- you felt a sharp punch to your face, knocking you harshly to the ground. Pain radiated from your nose down to your jaw, and you felt blood trickling down your nose over your lip as you brought a hand up to it. Looking up fearfully, you recognized him, the chief of security.

“You bitch.” He hissed, fists clenched at his side. “You fucking did this didn’t you? I told Stryker you couldn’t be trusted. I should have put a bullet in your head when I caught you sneaking around the first time.”

“No-!” You yelped as he reached down, hand against your throat and pinning you to the floor, your head banging against the concrete making you yelp in pain. You clawed at his arm, kicking your legs in an attempt to get free as you felt his fingers tighten against your throat. You looked up at your attacker, his eyes furrowed, as he gritted his teeth, squeezing your throat tighter as you began to gasp for air- your chest growing tight.

In a flash, you heard a scream, and something warm and wet splatter on your. His hand was gone, and you watched in horror as he was lifted into the air, sharp metal points sticking out through his chest, and you saw Logan, holding him up in the air- a sharp snarl escaping him.

You heard a snikt! And you crawled away as the chief's body fell to the ground. Your heart pounding out of your chest, tears fell down your face, as a shaky breath escaped you- looking up at the towering and terrifying presence that now stood above you.

The red light illuminated him, making him look almost devilish. He was hunched, hands in fists, covered in blood, completely naked. There were a few wires hanging haphazardly from his arms and legs - and the helmet, the one you assumed is the one they use to control him. 

They’re not controlling him now, are they?

You waited, waited for him to kill you next. Surely he will?

He straightened himself, a scowl on his face as his nostrils flared, his chest heaving with deep breaths. He stared into your eyes. You swallowed, and pushed yourself up from the ground. Your body was shaking, and you stepped forward towards him, over the body of Hanlon. 

“Logan?” You said his name, your voice hoarse, and cracked. He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. You blinked a few times, and you reached your hands up, they’re shaky and unsteady, but you reached towards him- to the helmet.

He flinched back a moment, before stopping, letting you do whatever you were going to do. His eyes unceasing their hard stare, his nostrils flaring with every breath- making you nervous that those famous claws you’ve heard about - and just seen in action are going to make their appearance and turn you into a shish kebab. 

He didn’t do anything, and you finally made contact with the cold metal. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, as your fingers found bolts and clips, undoing each one until the helmet came loose from his skull. 

You saw relief flood his eyes, his hands reaching up as you slowly moved yours back, returning them to your side shaky as ever, as he pulled the helmet off and dropped it to the ground. 

He blinked a few times, looking around, a small breath of relief escaping him before looking at you again. 

You both stood there, unsure what to do next.

1 Year Later

Your fingers nervously tapped along the files in your lap. Your leg crossed over the other as you sat on the very uncomfortable chair provided to you while you waited. You laid your hands flat across the folder, as anxiety twisted in your gut. 

“Nervous?” 

The voice drew you out of your anxious thoughts as you looked up and smiled.

Logan stood there in front of you, clean, healthy, happy. He wore a clean dress suit, his hair slicked back, and his beard trimmed. He gave you a thin lipped smile, his eyes regarding you with softness. 

It had been a long year to get to where he was, with you there to support him as best as you could.  

It was Charles Xavier's people who came and caused chaos at the base. A group called the X-men, a group of talented and powerful mutants who work in the name of helping mutants- which is right up your alley. You- nor Logan didn’t join right away, but accepted Charles' invitation to stay at his school, alongside other mutants who were rescued, in order to wait for the dust to settle. 

The dust was finally settling. Stryker and his men were on trial before congress. You were the piece to finally put things to rest. The evidence you compiled, the things you witnessed. You were about to go before congress, and speak on the behalf of mutants that had become victims to Stryker. 

You stood up from your chair, hugging your files to your chest. “A little bit.”

“Don’t be, you’ll do great.” He says. “You always stood your ground about things like this. Just cause it’s a bunch of assholes in Washington don’t make it any different.”  

You got to know Logan, who he was. He became someone you admired like no other. He rose up from the trauma and pain he suffered in Alkali, refusing to let it harden him. He was still a bit rough around the edges- but for you he was soft. 

During his time in Lake Alkali, he was waiting for a chance to escape. The scientist said he couldn’t think clearly but it was far from the truth. The only time he went into an animalistic haze was when the helmet was on- it blocked his vision and his senses, made his brain fuzzy. 

When the X-men breached the dam, they were about to let Logan out to wreak havoc on the intruders. They put the helmet on him and he managed to keep himself together that time- escaping and slaughtering guards along the way. It was hard, it set his teeth on edge, it made him confused, unsure of what he was doing.

It was you that kept him from losing himself again. He heard your heartbeat, and your cry when Hanlon punched you. You removing the helmet was the final step for his freedom.

“I just hope it’s enough. You know politicians, how they are. You saw how they treated Jean.” You frowned, your eyebrows furrowing.

“You’ll convince them bub.  Quite worrying.” He says. His hand reached out, placing over your arm, his thumb running across your skin in a soothing motion. You nodded, attempting to let his reassurance calm your nerves. “After this, we’ll get some lunch, yeah?” 

You smiled and nodded, Logan paused, observing you before he stepped closer. It made your breath hitch, his proximity to you, your nerves becoming more worried about him now, instead of the trial. Lately, you and Logan's friendship that has formed over the last year has felt to be turning into something more. You weren’t quite sure what yet, and Logan didn’t seem to know either. 

You had an idea though.

The door behind you opened. 

“Ma’am? They’re ready for you.” A young man greets you and you nodded, looking back at Logan. He smiled supportively, and you quickly leaned up to kiss his cheek, before turning to walk into the room. 

“Wish me luck.” You called after you, before the door shut behind you, leaving Logan alone in the hall, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, thinking about how nice your lips felt on his cheek.

You were led to a desk, where the young man- you believed to be an intern pulled the chair out for you allowing you to sit. You quietly thanked him, smoothing your skirt out and setting the papers you were holding on the desk, you looked up and stared at a room full of men in suits. 

“You are here today to present evidence before congress against Dr. William Stryker, as well as numerous other names in this trial. Do you have that evidence before you?” 

You opened one of the files, and one of the first things you see is a picture of Logan. Weapon X. It made you sick to remember him like that. You looked up, lips pulled tight, eyes filled with determination.

“Yes.”

[jinmindeulle]

vulnerable | k. mingyu, j. wonwoo (1)

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 kim mingyu x fem!reader x jeon wonwoo

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 3.3 k

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 angst, fluff | friends-with-benefits!mingyu, neighbor-and-highschool-crush!wonwoo | you decide! mingyu (pt. 2) or wonwoo (pt.3)

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 mentions about sex i guess?

when mingyu realizes that things are not going like he'd like between you two, he asks for some distance. lucky for you, your high school crush was waiting for you some doors away.

• • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • •

“I don’t wanna fuck tonight”

For how Mingyu plopped himself onto your couch as soon as you opened the door to your apartment, it was pretty clear that he had just come by to spend the night cuddling with you — and you weren’t complaining. You loved being engulfed by your friend’s bulky arms and how he couldn’t get enough of you, even when you were fully clothed and talking about Love Island.

“What’s got you so sulky?” you asked, kissing the top of his head as you walked past him on your way to the kitchen. “You’re lucky I just got started with dinner”

“My boss is a pain in the ass — by the way, those shorts look fire on you” after giving the longest sigh you had ever heard coming from him, the man turned his head your way and winked.

You looked down at your legs and chuckled. Those shorts were the oldest, most worn-out you had in your closet. “I bet they do. Wanna talk about that boss of yours?”

“Nah, work belongs at work. Whatcha cooking?”

“I was craving some japchae.”

“Remind me again, how are you just my fwb?”

A soft giggle escaped your lips, and you just turned around to get started on your dish, not noticing how serious his question had been. The truth was, he was your best friend, with benefits, of course, but that was a line that Mingyu had never wanted to cross when you first started fooling around. 

The first time had been your fault, and Mingyu was always ready to throw that on you whenever he had the chance. You were a little bit drunk, not enough not to remember what happened the next day, but far away from the perfectly reasonable woman you normally were. 

The thing was, even when you were in all your senses and could discern wrong from right, Mingyu had always been an attractive fellow. Aside from his obvious heavenly looks, you felt satisfied and joyful when he favored you over other plans and even other girls. Mingyu looked at you with a softness that you knew only saved for you, and that had gotten into your heart… just a little. 

The pint of beer he treated you that night for helping him set up his new wardrobe made it easier for you to lean a little closer and press your lips to his. 

He looked at you with extremely big eyes but a smirk that you rarely saw while alone with him. “Sorry. You wouldn’t stop rambling” you said, which was partly true. Gyu had just started working as the editor-in-chief of a well-renowned newspaper and liked to tell you all about his new co-workers.

When you took it back to your place, it was obvious that Mingyu was okay with the idea of you kissing him. Now, he was the one bringing his lips to yours after you closed the door behind you. 

“I wanna keep being friends” 

Though it broke your heart a little, you had to admit you were fine with his proposal — just because it meant you gained new rights with the one man you had shared most of your life with. In between hot kisses, you nodded and in a mutual agreement, decided to let it happen. 

“You cannot violate the contract, Gyu” taking the veggies out of the fridge, you reminded him of the spoken agreement you had come to that day. We can kiss, we can have sex. We are not exclusive, we cannot be jealous. We can make it stop when one of us asks to. Keep it private.

“We never said anything about the label” Mingyu got up from the couch and decided to help you out, chopping the carrots you had saved for later.

“What part of ‘We are not exclusive’ equals having a label?” you asked, too concentrated on measuring the right amount of sauce to see the look he gave you.

“But we act as exclusive” 

What was wrong with him today? He had never dared to question whatever thing you got going on after the ‘main event’, so him throwing so many daggers at you regarding your situationship was weird enough to trigger you.

“What’s on your mind? It’s been almost a year of our little fuck-buddies thing and you never asked such dramatic questions”

He sighed and stopped working on the carrots, pressing his left hip to the kitchen counter and leaning on it. After some minutes of silence, he crossed his arms on his chest. “I don’t know. I guess the not-exclusive part but quite literally being exclusive has been on my mind lately. What makes us different from a couple?”

As you finished seasoning the beef, you cleaned your hands and faced him, not sure if you were getting his troubles. “Are you worried that because we are not fucking other people we are becoming ‘a couple’?” 

“Don’t you think so? I mean…” he scratched the back of his head, avoiding your eyes as the thought of you being a couple started to become a reality in his mind. “We act like boyfriend and girlfriend when we are around, we have amazing sex, we-w-we,” he stuttered “We adore each other”

“What I don’t get is,” you came closer to his broad form, looking up to his eyes “Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because I-I” his stutters were not so common on him, and that made you arch an eyebrow. He was not being his usual self “I don’t want us to be a couple” He sentenced.

Bold of you to assume that he was falling in love with you.

Nodding with a lump forming in your throat, you took a step back and dealt with your disappointment as well as you could “What do you suggest, then?”

“Go out with other people. Reject me from time to time, tell me you’ve got plans even when you don’t. Share your bed with another man. Just… don’t let me be the only one around you.”

“Then leave. I’ve got other plans”

. . . . . . . . . .

You hadn’t seen him ever since he left your dorm that eerie evening — over a week ago. He had shot you some texts, but the realization that you were actually feeling things for him beyond what he was willing to offer put a restraint on your replies. They were shorter, emojiless, and a bit bitter. 

Mingyu had wanted to see you two times, Thursday first and Saturday last. I’ve got plans, your default reply to both, and probably to all the invitations that were to come from him. He was getting what he had asked for: no more couple behavior.  

As you finished massaging your night cream with the ‘miraculous’ gua sha onto your jawline, your phone buzzed. An unknown number had sent you a text. 

Hi, Y/N

I know this is weird, but I heard you recently moved

And I think we’re neighbors

What an idiot, this is Jeon Wonwoo

The heat that you felt creeping on your cheeks was not normal, but you were used to it. Jeon Wonwoo had been the crush of your teenage (and not so teenage) years, all the way through high school and even your part-time job at Mrs. Lim’s café right before starting college. 

The seventeen-year-old version of you would be giggling and running around your dorm at just the thought of him and his cute-ass rounded glasses.

Oh my, hi Wonwoo! 

That’s awesome! I moved here a month or so ago, but I never saw you around

I’m at 12A 

Wbu?

As you saved his contact, you thought about how bad in love you had been with him in the past. 

He was the type of guy you had fantasized about for many years, even after meeting Mingyu. Wonwoo was serious at work and even in high school — his responsibilities had always come before anything else and you loved that about him. You just knew he was going to be a successful man in whatever he decided to do in life. And he got all the girls ogling at him, no matter where he went. 

That had been about eight years or so ago. You couldn’t wait to see how handsome he had gotten with time. 

No way

I’m at 16B

You home now?

I’d love to catch up

Just finished preparing some bibimbap

Oh. Dear. Lord.

You entered your closet as fast as you could and discarded the pajama set you had on with the ease that not even Mingyu could master. Your eyes fell on a casual summer dress that was your go-to whenever you needed an easy but cute way out and quickly threw it on.

Before throwing your night skincare routine to the trash with some light makeup, you replied to Wonwoo’s texts.

Sounds yummy! 

Be there in 5

After combing through your (thankfully recently) washed hair, you sprayed your favorite perfume on and took a deep breath. 

“Okay, little Y/N, here we go”

Nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting for you behind the 16B door. 

Jeon Wonwoo was as painfully handsome as he had been as an adolescent. Years had perfectly sat with him and that made your gut relive that tingling sensation you hadn’t felt for a long time. His glasses were still there — a more modern version of his older ones, but they screamed Wonwoo. 

“Oh wow,” he smiled, eagerly blinking, as if he had a blurry vision “I-I didn’t expect you to be quite literally the same as in high school” he smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Should I feel offended by that?” you giggled, looking down at your feet to avoid displaying the same dorky smile you did when around him. 

“Of course not! You were always a sight to see. I-I mean, you look beautiful, Y/N. It’s so nice to see you again”

You couldn’t help but think about how many times you had wished for him to look at you like that. To tell you those sweet things and leave you a blushing mess. After what had happened with Mingyu, having your longest-to-date crush in front of you seemed like you were already using all the luck you had available in life. 

“Come in!” he interrupted your thoughts, moving aside so you could enter his place. 

What came after that felt like a dream. Wonwoo was a dream. 

His apartment was very similar to yours, and what didn’t surprise you at all was how well-kept it looked. Though it was all neatly white and gray, bits of his personality were spread around them. Some artwork hung behind the couch, in front of which stood a very big SmartTV. He had two shelves with a handful of PlayStation games and cutesy plants.  

But what caught your attention the most was a small cat scratcher in the corner of the living room.

“You have a cat?!” You asked, eyes sparkling with anticipation as you turned to face him.

“Well… I’m about to have a cat” he chuckled, signaling you to walk to the kitchen with his head. As you followed suit, he continued “I’m waiting for my brother to bring it home tomorrow”

“Oh my God, it must be the cutest thing ever!” you cried, holding your cheeks with your hands as he showed you a picture of the small creature on his phone “It’s so tiny!” you whined, feeling excitement for what was about to come for Wonwoo “Please invite me over when it arrives” you pleaded, taking his arm to emphasize the importance your request. 

“You will be here, don’t worry”

The security with which he delivered that statement sent shivers down your spine. That confidence was new to you — this Wonwoo was new to you, and you couldn’t wait to explore him.

His bibimbap was delicious, and conversation flowed effortlessly between the two of you. 

Wonwoo had been working as a corporate lawyer for quite some time. Just as you had predicted, he handled big responsibilities like negotiating contracts, dealing with lawsuits, and advising companies on legal matters. He even mentored younger employees and, in his words, was respected but not necessarily liked. 

“I don’t believe that” you shook your head, putting down the chopsticks after finishing the delight he had cooked. 

“That’s me at work. I have a hard time with stupid-ass people”

“Now that I think about it… you did have a hard time with stupid-ass people at the café too”

“See? Not much has changed” He smiled at you, taking the empty plates and putting them into his small dishwasher. “So.. how’s life?”

That was a hard one. Of course, you were not about to rant about how Mingyu, a guy he had never met, had decided to end whatever you had just because he didn’t like commitment. Wonwoo didn’t need to know the hardships of your recently deceased situationship, so you opted to open a door you were now comfortable with opening. 

“26, single, working from Monday to Friday, reading books, and watching reality shows from Saturday to Sunday. A great catch, huh?” the joke-not-so-joke was well-directed because it had the effect you had intended. 

“If you take into account that I’m 28, also single and working from Monday to Friday, playing video games and maybe working out from Saturday to Sunday, I surely think you are an amazing catch” 

But that left you speechless. Wonwoo had never been that direct, even when you had teased him about the long lines of girls drooling on him during high school.

“That job of yours did wonders for your flirting skills, let me tell you” you giggled, feeling the same old tingling sensation on your stomach. 

When it finally hit you that the following day was Monday and the clock was close to 12 sharp, you regretfully made your way to the door. “It was so good to see you again Wonwoo. Thank you for the delicious food”

“I had a blast. Thank you for accepting the last-minute invite. So.. ’ll see you tomorrow?” his gentle smile and glistened eyes made you want to kiss him right then and there. But it felt too rushed, too desperate. And Mingyu was still on your mind, no matter how much you hated him lately. 

“I get home from work at around 7. Sounds good?”

“Do you still like ramen?” 

“Hands down my favorite dish of all time” you nodded eagerly, excitement creeping around you.

“You will taste the best one as of yet”

“Can’t wait”

. . . . . . . . . .

You loved your high-pressure job. As expected when working in finance, your team usually makes big decisions about the company’s mergers, stock trading, and investments. It demanded a lot of strategic thinking, and thankfully you were quite good at it. However, that also meant that you would end up exhausted, literally collapsing on your couch every single day.

But that Monday evening could not be the case.

As soon as you went out of the elevator, you could see his tall frame resting on the wall beside your apartment door, clearly waiting for you. You stood still for a second and considered going down the hall again before he could see you in an attempt to avoid the awkward conversation that was about to happen. But Mingyu was faster and turned around just when the elevator door closed. 

“Are you moving anytime soon?” he crooked his eyebrow, waiting for you to get inside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying to make up with you”

You felt silent as you opened the door, Mingyu’s gaze burning into you, his body too close for your liking. You could smell his manly perfume and that hit in places you would rather not. He had the same effect on you as he always did, and you hated yourself for letting him in so easily.  

“I have to leave soon, so make it short” you discarded your bag and waited for him to speak, hands on your hips. 

Mingyu stood by the door, studying your every move. You could see his brain making mental gymnastics to understand your new demeanor with him because you had never treated him like that. So crude, so direct, so painfully detached. But that was what you wanted him to feel — he had made you want that. 

“When I said that I didn’t want us to be a couple I didn’t mean to stop seeing each other. I suggested you start seeing other people and spending a little less time on our own. But you cut ties altogether” It hurt you to see him looking at you with glistened eyes, and even though he tried to hide it, you noticed how his lower lip trembling. That… you didn’t expect that “I love hanging out with you. I love what we had.”

“I don’t get you,” you shook your head when you finally wrapped your head around what he was saying “You were clear when you said that you wanted us to still fuck around but not all the time. And I understood. So, when I finally comply with your wishes, you tell me you loved what we had?”

“I don’t see what you don’t get” he took a step forward, reaching out to brush your fingers with his “I was happy with how things were going, but I just… I needed to make sure we were following the rules”

The contradiction was so clear to you that your head was about to explode. “You were happy but because we were not following one stupid rule, which you considered to be more important than what we had, you had to ruin it”

Mingyu opened his mouth to respond, but you shook your head and prevented him from saying anything else “You clearly have some shit to reflect on, Gyu. I love you and I had a great time with you, but I just cannot keep on doing this if you are worried about what we are rather than how we feel. Have you stopped to think about why we never slept around with other people? Why we were so comfortable with one another, no matter if we had sex or not?” you pressed your hands to his cheeks, taking in how vulnerable he looked. His eyes were fixated on yours, standing still in his place, listening attentively “The rule was there because we decided to create it at a time when we didn’t know where this was heading. It felt natural because we were transforming a friendship into something else… we thought we were going to stop on a middle ground between friendship and a couple's relationship. But by now you and I know we were exclusive, we were around each other all the time — we just were private.”

“I-I…,” Mingyu mumbled slowly reaching to put his hands on yours, still holding his face “I never realised it” The weakness with which he delivered it made your heart twitch. 

“I know. I think, deep down, we were aware of what we were — putting on the label was the scary part. But, Gyu…,” you smiled a little and decided it was best to end the conversation there “We don’t have to do this. You don’t want commitment, and that’s fine” 

“I don’t know what I want” he closed his eyes, slowly taking a breath. 

“Go home and take your time.” 

It felt like a farewell. You were sure he was not ready to commit with you, or any other woman. You loved him, yes, and you were willing to wait for him to decide, no matter how disadvantageous the situation was for you. But you also knew there was someone else waiting for you in 16B.

So you kissed Mingyu, taking his lips with soft care, sighing when he took you by the waist and pressed you against his hard chest. He hugged your lips with his in a desperate attempt to get all he could from this last one, and hopefully remember how you felt for the nights that he was about to spend all alone, wishing to have you by his side.

“Go” you whispered against his lips, taking him by the arms and pushing him away.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N”

• • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • •

part 1 | you decide... mingyu (2) or wonwoo (3) soon!

please like and reblog!

[tkomptgoedluv]

girl with one eye.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.4

pt.1 here | pt.2 here | pt.3 here | pt.4

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader is finally seeing a therapist, established relationship, they’re so so in love i wanna cry, reader just wants a good night sleep, joost just wants to help, a loootttttt of hurt, maybe too much of comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 2,833.

warnings: very detailed descriptions of SA, very brief allusion to drugging, semi-vague descriptions of a panic attack, rpf.

notes: hello angels! this is veryyyyy overdue but it’s finally here! the ending is a little rushed and i’ve only half-proofread it so please forgive me for any errors. also — this part comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING for those of you that struggle with SA, please do not put yourself at risk by reading if it’s not meant for you!

on a happier note, i’d like to give credits to @spentandpent for drawing that first image of joost in my little header thingy. their fan-art kinda inspired this whole part <3

also i wanna shoutout @howisjoostfanfictionforfree simply because sloane is one of my favourite people on this whole entire app, and she’s been so so supportive of me since my very first fic post. i ♥️ you, sloane my bbyg xx

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

you wanted to kick yourself.

genuinely, you felt a little sick whenever you thought about all those years you’ve wasted by being just a little too stubborn for your own good.

all those sweet, early mornings where the sun would peak through the blinds and you’d wake up to find him still curled all around you, and how you would run from them just because they started to feel a little too real. all those nights where you’d leave him still tangled up in the sheets, breathless and wishing you’d stay just a little while longer whilst you were already halfway out the door.

for years all you did was run, and you’re yet to forgive yourself for it. because this — this was heaven and you could have had it so much sooner if only you hadn’t been such a fucking coward.

you blame it all on those three little flings that you had over the years; those three no-more-than-six-weeks-long ‘relationships’ that still, somehow, almost ruined you. the first was a guy that seemed to love his pills and potions more than you, the second was once the ‘love of your life’ before he stuck his dick in someone else, and the third was nothing more than a few too many bad hookups with a guy you couldn’t quite shake.

they were what did it for you, in the end. what convinced you to avoid anything more than the odd one-night-stand here and there. you just weren’t cut out for the whole ‘dating’ thing, apparently, and that was fine. you were fine with that; happy about it, even. as long as it meant that you wouldn’t have to go through anymore disappointment, you’d live with it. or without it, rather.

so when you found yourself stood outside in the pouring rain, arguing back and forth with joost about something you can’t even remember anymore, you still thought it to be out of the question. you were refusing to believe that you were anything more than a stress-reliever to him, because that’s all you could ever be. all you ever wanted to be.

whatever it was that you and joost had, it was special. you couldn’t explain it, and you certainly weren’t willing to lose it by feeling all the wrong things for him. you had no idea that he was the one who’d fallen down that rabbit hole, the one who’d started feeling all those wrong things first — not until he kissed you that day.

with the rain soaking the two of you down to the bone, tears pooling in both of your eyes. his chest had been heaving and your throat had felt all scratchy from the yelling; still, he had been so gentle with you. even more so than he usually was. he had his hands cupping your face and the way he’d looked at you, still to this day it gives you goosebumps whenever you think about it.

how lucky you are that for the past six months joost has kissed you just like that, every single day.

every morning now, when you wake up to the sun shining through the blinds and joost’s arms still wrapped around you, you don’t dare to move. you wait until you hear that low grumble in your ear that’s always followed by a sweet kiss to the back of your shoulder, and only then do you roll over to return the favour. sometimes it unravels into something more, other times you’re both able to show some restraint.

the afternoons are always a little more unpredictable with joost’s job being what it was. there were days where he’d say his goodbyes before midday and wouldn’t return until the early hours of the next morning. there were the months where you’d be lucky to even get a whole day together at all. but there were also the days where he’d only be out for a few hours, either at the studio or one of the boys’ houses. on those ones, whether it was your place or his, joost would always come home to you with pastries in his hand and some new art of his to show you.

for the first time in all your years of living, things were finally good. you were happy; you were in love. it was only right to assume that with that, everything else was bound to fall into place.

but you just weren’t sleeping.

you drift off for a while, tucked neatly away into joost’s arms as he engulfs you, him always being so insistent on being the big spoon. for a couple hours you’ll sleep like that, tossing and turning until you’re all the way over on the other side of the bed, and it’s there that you wake up struggling to catch your breath, shaking like a leaf.

usually, it’s just bits and pieces of that night all jumbled up that you see. quick ‘flashes’ of his face, the bloodied crack in the bathroom mirror, the feeling of the porcelain sink digging into your stomach as he bent you over it. nothing truly coherent, but enough to still wake you up in a panic at three o’clock in the morning. then it becomes a gamble as to whether or not you’re able to fall back asleep. most of the time, you’re still laying there wide awake when the sun starts to rise, still far too afraid to close your eyes again.

though for whatever reason, tonight’s dream had been particularly awful. you could’ve sworn that you were actually back there this time, relieving the whole thing. you could feel his hand on the back of your neck, squeezing, keeping you pinned down. you could feel your skirt all in a bunch around your waist again and your tights barely hanging on from how he’d ripped them to near shreds.

and now you were here, staring at the ceiling and trying not to cry too loud whilst the clock ticked closer and closer to dawn. it was almost five o’clock in the morning so really, it should’ve felt as though you’d gotten at least a couple hours of good sleep. instead, you were exhausted; wide awake with your heart pounding inside your chest, but exhausted as tears slipped from the corners of your eyes.

this wasn’t what you expected, not when joost had painted such a beautiful picture that therapy was the be all and end all cure for any and every problem. it had you convinced that by the time you were a few months into your sessions, things would’ve gotten at least a little bit easier. perhaps it was your fault for getting your hopes up the way that you did.

you were trying to keep it quiet, your crying. you hadn’t told joost about what had actually happened that night yet, let alone the nightmares about it. he had a habit of carrying other people’s pain so that they wouldn’t have to themselves — you didn’t want to be one of those people.

after a while though, you didn’t have that choice anymore. there was a bang from outside, nothing more than just an old, cheap car backfiring, and you jumped. you made the bedframe shake a little more than it already was and yelped just loud enough to wake joost up from his sleep. you swore underneath your breath as he grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear before looking back over his shoulder at you.

“you heard that too?”

when you didn’t say anything he turned over fully, the sheets rusting and the mattress creaking as he moved.

you heard him whisper your name, just in case you really were still asleep, but even in the dark he could see that your eyes were open and staring blankly at the ceiling. it was a quiet sniffle that gave you away in the end, because the dark did well at hiding the wetness in your eyes. still, it couldn’t conceal the quick wipe of your nose; even in the dark and without his glasses on, joost could still see that.

“hey, are you crying?”

you didn’t mean to flinch when he went to brush a strand of hair out of your eyes, and you didn’t mean to worry him by doing so. it made his eyebrows furrow as he pulled his hand back and sat up slightly, propping himself up on one of his elbows.

“what’s going on?”

“nothing, i just…i’m just being a bit stupid. i’m fine; you can go back to sleep.”

maybe if there wasn’t that waiver in your voice you would’ve gotten away with it. joost would’ve mumbled something of an ‘okay’ and kissed you goodnight before rolling back over. you would’ve been left alone to wait for the sunrise, a cold sweat coating your skin despite the warm summer air that was rolling in through your open windows.

but even if he was half blind without his glasses on, joost’s ears worked just fine. he heard the waiver in your voice as well as the sniffle in your nose, and he knew.

joost wasn’t stupid; he noticed things. noticed the way the bags under your eyes had been growing heavier over the past couple months, and saw how even the smallest things were making you jump out of your skin. he knew what you were like though, knew better than to try and ask you about it. all he could really do was hope that the therapist you had now would be enough.

but he’d found you near-sobbing at five o’clock in the morning now; heard the fear in your voice, saw the tears in your eyes. it didn’t surprise you to see him immediately sit up and reach over, switching on his bedside light before turning back to face you. but it did bring on a wave of sickness to your stomach, the kind that made your hands feel clammy.

“no, you’re not fine. what happened?”

you wiped at your nose again, and then at your eyes. as you spoke you refused to look at him, keeping your gaze fixed on the ceiling because you truly did believe that all of this was stupid. your tears, the heavy beating of your heart — all of it.

“just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

you heard a soft sigh from bedside you and felt gentle fingers in your hair, finally tucking that one strand behind your ear. this time, you didn’t flinch. you leaned into the touch, letting a single tear slip down your cheek as you realised that soon, this might be the last time he’ll ever want to touch you.

“anything i can do?”

you really didn’t want to do this, but you knew you needed to.

“can i…can i talk about it? you know, about what happened that night?”

joost didn’t hesitate, he couldn’t — not when this was such a rarity for you. he nodded and laid back down, his tired eyes watching as you rolled over until your back was facing him. he couldn’t bring himself to ask why you wouldn’t look at him, just listened quietly as you sucked in a deep breath and watched as you curled yourself into a ball.

“the guy, he was nice at first; saw that i was on my own and wanted to know how i ended up there, i guess. he seemed normal, like he just wanted to get to know me.”

your voice was shaking as you spoke, and you were struggling to breathe through your stuffed up nose.

“i should’ve known that something was wrong when i started to feel like, drunk drunk, after only a couple of drinks. maybe he slipped something in one of them, i don’t know, but when he asked if i wanted to do a line with him i didn’t think i could say no.”

a large hand squeezed your hip from over the covers when you paused for a moment, a few tears getting caught in your throat when you tried to swallow them down.

“i uh, i followed him into the bathroom and i let him lock the door behind us, and i did the line he racked up for me. he promised me that it was a gift, that he didn’t want anything for it; he knew i didn’t have any money to pay him and he said it was fine. but when i tried to leave he told me that he’d changed his mind, said i could pay him back another way.”

joost’s hand fell from your hip when you slipped out from underneath it and curled in further on yourself. it meant that all he could do was watch from the other side of the bed as your shoulders began to shake from the small, pathetic sobs that you couldn’t hold back.

“i said no, joost. he got me up against the door, tried to reach underneath my skirt, but i said no. he didn’t like that — didn’t like it when i hit him, either. he…he bent me over the sink, hit my head against the mirror, told me that i owed him for what he’d given me.”

you had to fight to get the words out through all of your blubbering; through each of the hiccups and all of the gagging. you truly were in a bit of a state now, spiralling further and further down into the memory, but you needed to do this. no matter how much it hurt, you just needed to get it out.

“he held me down by my neck and he…he laughed when i told him i couldn’t breathe. i couldn’t move, joost, i couldn’t get him off so i just…”

when you started to trail off, a pair of arms scooped you up and gently pulled you across the bed until you were flat again joost’s chest. you felt him rest his head in the crook of your neck, a dozen salty tears of his own dripping down onto your shoulder. for a while, neither of you said anything else; you’d gotten yourself too worked up to find the rest of your words and quite frankly, joost didn’t need to hear anything else. he had an imagination, he knew what happened next.

you caught him off guard when after a couple minutes, just after the silence had settled, you started to apologise over and over again. like a child too consumed with guilt, you were spewing out desperate ‘i’m so sorry’s one after the other until the words all slurred together.

“hey, hey, hey, stop that. you don’t need to do that.” you felt him kiss the back of your ear, your neck, your shoulder. “i’m never gonna blame you for it, okay? — it’ll never be your fault.”

joost’s grip on you tightened when you began to cry harder, your tears soaking the pale, bare skin of his arm. he nuzzled his face deeper into the dip of your neck, listening to the unsteady beat of your pulse as you breathed in quick, shallow breaths.

“i-i’m sorry.”

“shhh, hey, it’s alright. just focus on breathing, honey. that’s all you need to do.”

it took you until little drops of sun were spilling through the blinds to finally relax enough to breathe right. neither of you had moved an inch, you were both still all wrapped up in each other, only now the tears had dried and your eyes were growing heavier.

carefully, you twisted in his arms until you were facing his chest, and it was there that you curled up again. you felt him leave kisses all along your crown; in your hair and on your forehead. as you hooked a leg over his, he used an arm to pull you closer, only satisfied once you were as close to being under his skin as you could be.

the warm summer air was still blowing in through your bedroom windows. it made the whole room hot and sticky, making you sweat even more than you always were from being so close to joost. beads of sweat were gathering along your hairline as well as his, and the bedsheets were beginning to cling to your skin. it was clammy and uncomfortable — still, you wouldn’t move.

“thank you, by the way.”

it was the sound of your own voice to break the silence again, but it was your words that made joost shift a little, only to tilt his head down to get a better look at you. when he met your eyes he saw that you were already staring up at him with something of a smile tugging at corners of your lips.

“for what, baby?”

“for letting me talk about it…and for not running away afterwards.”

with his eyes drooping and his breathing slow, joost simply scoffed. his hands danced their way up to your jaw and cupped your face, his thumbs gently stroking along the pink blush of your cheeks.

“i could never run away from you.”

[luxcuriousao3]

POST THE PRICE THING PLEASE (oh my god who said that)

Nobody look at me

warnings: fauxcest, Daddy kink, oral (f receiving), dubcon vibes (in the pricesoap part) but tbh soap's into it, hint of virginity kink, not well written or beta read

Thinking about Price x former foster daughter!Reader x Soap…

-

It’s been a bit since she aged out of the system, and while he never officially adopted her, he still treats her like his own.

Except for the urges.

But he doesn’t talk about those, doesn’t even think about them. They’re disgusting, wrong, and while John has never pretended to be overly concerned about scruples, even he has to draw the line somewhere.

But when he hears his little girl moaning his name one night, he finds himself on the other side of it like it was never even there.

He’s drawn to her room like a moth to a flame. The door has been left cracked open, almost like she wants him to hear her. Inside, she’s not alone—fuckin’ Soap is eating his sweet angel out while he ruts his hard cock against her sheets like the overeager mutt that he is. One click of John’s tongue, and he heels, eyes wide and panicked, babbling excuses and apologies through lips still shiny with the evidence of his feast. But John doesn’t care what he has to say—he’s staring at her instead, at the way she doesn’t move to cover up, just looks up at him through long lashes, tempting him. Daring him.

“Do you want to join, Daddy?”

John can’t control himself any longer—he orders Soap to continue pleasing his baby girl, and Soap, good soldier that he is, gets back to work. John walks over to his angel and just strokes her hair as Soap eats her out. He doesn't touch her anywhere else, doesn't pull out his hard cock and slide it past her parted, plush lips and into her warm, wet mouth like he wants to. He just watches.

And after she cums on Soap’s tongue, John grabs Soap by the back of his shirt and drags him back into his bedroom. He throws him down on his bed, then climbs on top of him and grinds his clothed bulge down on Soap’s face, still covered with the evidence of his baby’s arousal.

“You think you can just touch my little girl whenever you want?” John asks, a darkness in his voice. “You were thinking of putting your prick in her, weren’t you? Thinking of fucking that tight little pussy, feel her fall apart from a cock being inside her for the first time? You think you get to be her first? When I’m the one who’s been wanting her for so long?”

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Played

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader (past), Ice Brady x Reader (past)

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Angst, betrayal, emotional distress, mild language

Summary: You thought what you had with Paige was real—until you overhear her and Ice at a party, laughing about the bet they made to see who could pull you first. The betrayal is unbearable.

Credits to @starlighttsv for helping me make the plot better/thicker

Parts 2 & 3 will be out soon...

The music thumped against my chest, loud and pulsing, but my mind was elsewhere. I leaned against the kitchen counter, nursing a barely touched cup of whatever concoction someone had handed me. The party was in full swing, teammates laughing, dancing, and letting loose after a hard-fought win.

I should’ve been enjoying myself.

I was enjoying myself—until I heard them.

Paige’s laugh rang out first, loud and easy, followed by Ice’s deeper chuckle.

“You know I had her first,” Paige said, smugness dripping from her tone.

“Oh, please,” Ice shot back. “You barely beat me. If I had another week, she would’ve been mine.”

My stomach dropped.

No.

They weren’t talking about me. They couldn’t be.

“I mean, come on,” Paige continued. “She was so easy to pull. I almost feel bad.”

Ice snorted. “Almost?”

My breath caught in my throat.

It was me.

I felt frozen, my grip on the counter tightening until my knuckles turned white.

A bet.

That’s all I ever was to them.

I didn’t realize I was shaking until my cup slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The liquid spread across the tile, but I barely noticed. My head was spinning, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

I backed away before they could see me, slipping through the crowd as fast as my legs would carry me. My vision blurred, but whether it was from rage or heartbreak, I couldn’t tell.

I made it outside, the cool night air hitting my face, but it did nothing to ease the burn in my chest.

I sucked in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself, but the betrayal clawed at my throat.

“Y/N!”

I stiffened at the sound of Paige’s voice. I didn’t turn around.

“Wait—what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice closer now. She must’ve seen me leave.

I clenched my fists. “Go back inside, Paige.”

There was a pause. “Talk to me, mamas.”

I laughed. A bitter, humorless sound. “Oh, now you want to talk?” I turned, finally meeting her eyes. “Or are you just checking to see if you won?”

Paige’s face twisted in confusion. “What are you—”

I shook my head. “I heard you. You and Ice.”

Paige paled.

My voice broke. “It was a bet?”

“Y/N—”

“Was it ever real?” My voice cracked, and I hated it. Hated how vulnerable I sounded. How stupid I felt.

Paige took a step forward, reaching for me, but I jerked back.

“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t touch me.”

She flinched, guilt washing over her face.

I shook my head, my vision blurring again. “I thought you cared about me. I thought—” My breath hitched. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” Paige said quickly. “It started as a bet, yeah, but—”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, so I was charity?”

Her eyes widened. “No! It wasn’t like that—”

“Then what was it like, Paige?” My voice was rising, but I didn’t care. “Were you gonna tell me? Or just keep stringing me along?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

And that told me everything.

My chest ached, my stomach twisting in ways that made me want to throw up.

I took a shaky breath, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t forgive you.”

Paige’s face crumpled. “Y/N, please—”

I turned and walked away, ignoring the sound of her calling my name.

She didn’t follow me.

I didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

To be continued...

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[luvfae]

LINES CROSSED, PT 2

part 1

summary: thanos has always had a thing for his best friends girlfriend.

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader (nam-gyu x f!reader)

warnings: smut, alcohol use, cheating, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v

Nam-Gyu’s club was packed, the thick scent of alcohol and sweat hanging in the air. The dim lighting flickered across the dance floor, casting shadows on the sea of bodies lost in their own worlds. The bass-heavy music pulsed, vibrating through your chest, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered tonight was him.

Thanos.

You weren’t a regular at Nam-Gyu’s club. In fact, you’d avoided it for a while, but lately, you’d been doing things you wouldn’t normally do. Things you couldn’t seem to stop. You’d tried to erase the memory of him—the way he’d touched you, the way he made you feel—but the poison lingered. Sweet and addictive.

You leaned against the bar, nursing a drink, lost in thought. But you didn’t need to look up to know he was coming. His presence was like a storm, cutting through the crowd, drawing every eye in the room to him. When his gaze locked with yours, something twisted inside you. A pull. An undeniable hunger. You couldn’t look away, even if you tried.

“You look lonely,” he said, his voice low, teasing, nearly drowned out by the thumping beat. The words slid into your skin, making your heart skip a beat.

You swallowed hard, the familiar rush of guilt seeping in. “I’m not lonely,” you shot back, but even to your own ears, the words were weak.

His smirk deepened. “Come on,” he coaxed, stepping closer, invading your space. He extended his hand, and for a moment, you hesitated. “One dance. Just one, señorita.”

The fight in you was fading, dissolving with every breath you took, and you cursed yourself for being weak. But you still took his hand, unable to resist the pull, even as your mind screamed at you that this was wrong.

The dance floor was alive with the energy of bodies moving, but none of them mattered. Thanos moved through the crowd like he owned the place, effortlessly guiding you into his arms. His body pressed against yours, and every inch of you burned. His hands slid down your sides, low enough to make your breath catch. It wasn’t just a dance. His touch was an electric current that arced between you, igniting everything inside of you.

His breath was hot against your neck, his lips teasing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “You know you want this,” he whispered, his words a dark promise, each syllable sending a thrill down your spine.

You fought the urge to surrender, your body betraying you, but the temptation was too strong. You could feel his desire, pressing into you, making it harder to resist. The music pulsed louder, but it was his words that drowned everything else out.

“He doesn’t have to know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “This can be our dirty little secret.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you stopped fighting. You let him kiss you. Deep, possessive, like he was claiming you right there on the dance floor. His hands roamed with a familiar confidence, making your blood burn hotter with every touch.

When the club began to quiet down, signaling the end of the night, you barely noticed. You were too lost in the haze of lust and alcohol, your mind cloudy with need. Nam-Gyu, blissfully unaware, locked up the club at 4 a.m. as he always did. The weight of what was happening pressed down on you, but Thanos wasn’t done yet. Dancing had been the appetizer.

The walk to Nam-Gyu’s apartment was a blur. The alcohol clouded your mind, and the taste of Thanos lingered on your lips. You tried to steady yourself, to remind yourself that you were here with Nam-Gyu, that you should feel guilty. But all you could think about was the way Thanos had touched you, the way he made you feel like you were his, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Inside the apartment, Thanos didn’t waste any time. He closed the door with a soft click, locking his gaze on you, hunger darkening his eyes. The moment felt like it would break you in two, but you couldn’t look away. You tried to steady yourself as Nam-Gyu walked off to take a shower, but all you could think about was the way Thanos had touched you, the way you’d let him.

“You’re tipsy,” you whispered, your voice shaky, more an invitation than a warning.

He stepped toward you, his grin devilish, his eyes never leaving yours. “So are you,” he said, his voice low, almost dangerous. “Tell me you don’t want it.”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance between you, towering over you. His hand found the back of your neck, fingers tightening just enough to send a thrill through you as he pulled you into a kiss. Deep, raw, desperate. His tongue tangled with yours, a claim, a demand.

Your hands shook as you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, your breath coming in uneven gasps. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more. And before you knew it, his hands were on your body, pushing your dress up your thighs, exposing your bare skin to him. His fingers found the waistband of your panties, and he tugged them down with ease, pulling you closer, kissing you harder.

“Jump,” he commanded, his voice rough, and like a mindless thing, you obeyed, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held you effortlessly. His cock pressed against you, teasing, the promise of what was to come making your pulse quicken.

He slid inside you, groaning as he filled you, and everything in your world exploded. The feel of him, the heat, the weight of what you were doing—it all came crashing in on you. There was no room for hesitation now, no space for guilt. Only the primal, insatiable need that burned between you.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his thrusts steady, powerful, driving into you with unrelenting force. Every inch of him stretched you, filled you, and you couldn’t stop the gasps that escaped your lips.

You tried to hold on, to control yourself, but it was impossible. “Imagine if your boyfriend knew you were fucking yourself on his best friend’s dick,” Thanos growled. “You think he’d be happy?”

The words stung, but in the haze of lust, they only made you want him more. “I love Nam-Gyu,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Thanos’s response was immediate and harsh. He thrust harder, forcing the words out of you. “Don’t talk about him,” he hissed. “Not when I’m the one making you moan.”

His hands gripped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes as he fucked you with relentless intensity. “Say my name,” he demanded.

“Thanos,” you gasped.

His grin was savage. “My real name, pretty.”

You shuddered as the name slipped from your lips, “Su-bong.”

At that, he groaned, his strokes becoming faster, deeper. The pressure in your core built, and before you knew it, you were falling apart around him. Your body shook with the force of your release, your walls clamping around him, and Thanos cursed under his breath, following you into oblivion, releasing deep inside you with a savage growl.

Breathless, he pulled you back to the ground, adjusting your clothes in a blur. You were both scrambling, trying to regain some semblance of control. But the damage had already been done.

Just as you thought you might’ve gotten away with it, Nam-Gyu’s voice cut through the air, sharp and cold. “You guys done?”

Thanos froze, his eyes snapping to the bathroom door. Nam-Gyu stood there, towel still hanging loosely around his waist, his gaze icy. His anger was palpable, the betrayal evident in the harsh lines of his face.

“Get out,” he growled, his voice low and trembling with fury.

You froze, your heart plummeting as reality crashed back in. Nam-Gyu’s eyes flicked to you, and you couldn’t meet his gaze. He threw a picture of the two of you across the room, shattering the silence.

“Get the fuck out, both of you!” Nam-Gyu yelled, his anger a force you couldn’t ignore.

You scrambled for your shoes, your hands shaking as you shoved them on. You wanted to speak, to explain, but there were no words. The guilt was suffocating, your heart a hollow echo of everything you’d just done.

You fled into the night, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as you tried to outrun your own shame. And then Thanos was there, appearing beside you as if summoned by your pain. He pulled you into his arms, his hold tight and possessive, as if he was marking you as his.

“Oh well,” he murmured, his smirk dark and satisfied. “At least you can be mine now.”

[wolfsclothing6]

Hey, love your stories! Could you write one about a guy who hates his body and buys a skin suit to become bigger and hairier? Maybe he doesn’t read the fine print, takes a hot bath, and gets stuck like that forever?

(Oh I like that idea and thank you for taking part of MorphoSkin Industries deluxe service)

Tobias Model #3224.

Package Arrived!

Okay, so I finally did it. After weeks of obsessing over the MorphoSkin Industries site, I pulled the trigger. My Deluxe Identity Series body suit arrived this morning, and let me tell you, the box was way heavier than I expected. They ship it in this sleek, all-black container with "MorphoSkin—A New You Awaits" printed in silver. Fancy.

Ripped it open, and there he was: Tobias Model #3224.

6'3", built like a truck, covered in thick body hair, and rocking a solid dad bod. Exactly what I wanted. Something bigger. Something different. My real self? 5'9", kinda scrawny, patchy facial hair that never grows in right. But Tobias? He’s got that rugged, burly look—hairy chest, thick forearms, the kind of guy who owns a flannel and actually looks good in it.

I found the instruction booklet (didn't read it, let’s be real) and just went straight for the good stuff

The inside of the suit was... weird. Cool to the touch, kind of like putting on damp silk, but it moved when I stretched it. I pulled it over my legs first, feeling them thicken as I stepped in. My thighs ballooned, my calves stretched, and when I flexed my toes, I felt calluses that weren’t mine.

I tugged it up over my stomach, and whoa. Instant gut. It even jiggled when I moved. I gave it a little slap—solid, thick. Damn.

Pulling the arms in was surreal. My fingers got beefier, veins popping under the skin, knuckles bigger, hair covering my forearms. The weight of it felt right, like I’d been in the wrong body my whole life.

And the face?

Lining it up took a second, but once it was on, I felt a sharp tingle from my scalp down my spine. My vision blurred, ears popped, and suddenly… I was Tobias. Deep brown eyes stared back at me in the mirror. A strong, squared-off jaw covered in thick stubble. My neck even felt thicker. I ran my hands through my now wild, unkempt hair and let out a deep, rumbling laugh that wasn’t mine.

"Holy shit."

After pacing around, flexing my new muscles, admiring the way my hairy stomach peeked out under my stretched-out shirt, I decided to celebrate the best way possible:

A long, hot bath.

I turned the water on full blast, watching steam fill the bathroom as I stripped off the last of my clothes. God, everything felt so heavy in the best way. My arms rested on my belly, fingers idly scratching at the coarse hair now covering my chest. This body was made for lounging.

Sinking into the water was heaven. The heat wrapped around me, seeping into my new muscles, making them ache in the most satisfying way. I stretched out, letting my thick fingers drag lazily over the surface of the water, feeling completely at peace.

I lost track of time. The steam, the warmth, the weight of this body settling in—it was perfect.

Eventually, I forced myself to stand, water sloshing off my broad frame. I grabbed a towel, rubbing it over my arms, my chest—except something felt… different.

The suit usually had a slight give to it, almost like a second layer of skin. But now? It wasn’t moving.

I frowned, pressing a hand against my stomach. No shift. No subtle detachment. Just me.

I moved to the mirror, wiping away the condensation. Tobias’ face stared back at me, as expected—but there was no seam, no subtle ridge where my real face should be beneath. I reached up, pressing at my jaw, my cheekbones, even behind my ears.

Nothing.

I tried pinching at my wrist, where I knew the access point was supposed to be. The skin didn’t budge. I dug my nails in harder, trying to find an edge, a weak spot—anything.

My breathing picked up.

"No. No, no, no—this was temporary. Just a temporary malfunction. I just needed to let it cool down, right?"

I paced the bathroom, my heavy footsteps thudding against the tile. My arms swung at my sides, the thick forearms, the hairy knuckles—it all felt too real now.

I snatched up the instruction booklet, my hands trembling slightly as I flipped through the pages. Then, I saw it:

"DO NOT EXPOSE SUIT TO EXTREME HEAT FOR EXTENDED PERIODS. High temperatures may cause permanent fusion with the host."

The booklet slipped from my fingers.

Permanent...

I looked back at the mirror, at the deep brown eyes that were no longer borrowed but mine. My broad shoulders, my thick-fingered hands. Tobias's body.

This was me.

I took a deep breath, watching my massive chest rise and fall. I ran a hand through my thick, unruly hair, scratching at the beard I hadn’t earned but now owned. My voice rumbled out in a nervous chuckle—except it wasn’t nervous.

It was satisfied.

I swallowed hard. Maybe this wasn’t the worst thing. I wanted to be Tobias, didn’t I?