#no one is more disappointed in me than me

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 18 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: You find out why you have been feeling so sick lately. Some things are good. Some things are bad. And other things are straight-up cruel.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy issues/abortion, kidney failure, poisoning, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The voices were so soft that you barely even heard them, but you knew they were there.

You were probably dreaming. But what were you dreaming about? What had you dreamed? Were you already fully awake – awake enough to forget what you had been dreaming about?

A sharp pain in your arm made your eyes flutter open and you glanced around in panic. It suddenly all came back again, quick and unyielding.

The blood. He had to be dead. But, God, why was he dead? And why had he followed you?

Your gaze flew around the room, helplessly trying to recognize where the hell you were, when it suddenly dawned on you. You weren’t home.

Maybe you were indeed still dreaming.

Or maybe it was a nightmare you were caught in.

You gasped loudly and tried to sit up, only to feel a pair of gentle, yet firm hands, push you back down.

“Stop, I- What-“

“Shh.” He kept you gently pressed against the bed and regarded you with a look so tender and concerned, it immediately increased your panic. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re in the hospital. You’re alright.”

You glanced around, only to then realize it. The white walls, the neon lights, the rustling and the people around you. One looked like a doctor, another one like a nurse, but she left quickly.

It slowly came back to you. The wardrobe. The dizziness. The god-awful amount of blood. Your first impulse was to ask him what had happened, but you kept quiet. Everything was just too much – and his expression was by far the worst about it. His brows were furrowed in concern and his eyes were soft and cautious, as if he expected you to pass out again any moment.

He hadn’t even managed to get properly changed. You still saw the faint traces of blood on his shirt, right under his jacket. And even his hands had that light, red glow of someone who had just butchered a lamb.

The faint cut right above his eyebrow was new. And it made your heart clench.

“What happened?” You whispered hoarsely. “How long was I-“

“The doctor was just about to explain.” He said as he gently squeezed one of your hands in his both. “I told him that you don’t speak Korean. He’ll explain it in English.”

Your eyelids fluttered in confusion. He was behaving so…odd.

Of course he had been gentle before, no question. But this was so entirely unlike him. He was so soft-spoken and careful. It was hardly the same man.

When the doctor cleared his throat, you snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at him instead. You were filled with dread, far more so than ever. Something was wrong, you could tell. A part of you expected him to tell you that you were going to die soon. Who knew? Maybe you would. It wouldn’t have surprised you. That was just what your life was like. Predictable and disappointing.

“We ran a few blood tests, miss, as I just now mentioned to your husband.”

Husband. The word rang in your ears.

You nodded.

The doctor, a man in his middle-age with kind eyes and a certain softness in his voice, sighed softly and slowly sat down on the chair by your bed.

“I have bad news and good ones. I would like to start with the bad news.”

You felt him tense beside you and his hold on your hands tightened ever-so-slightly.

By the time you looked up to meet his gaze, you realized, he wasn’t looking at you. Instead he was staring at the doctor before you, his eyes fixed on the man and his body rigid on his own chair.

You nodded again.

Oh God, what now?

“The reason for your breakdown was a circulatory collapse. That in itself isn’t all too bad. Your husband informed me of the fight you witnessed.�� The blood on him. Clever. “That level of stress, combined with your high blood pressure, were what caused it. I ran a few blood tests and that’s where it gets complicated. I’m sorry to inform you that one of your kidneys is in the process of failing.”

You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You had always known this would come someday. But you couldn’t help but ask.

“The slow one or the other one?” You asked quietly.

You felt him stiffen beside you and the pressure on your hand was almost painful by now. He stared at you with an incredulous look. “What do you mean the slow one?”

You found yourself staring at the doctor instead. Maybe you should have told him, you suddenly realized.

The doctor kept staring between the both of you, before he hesitantly settled his gaze on you again, after you just so openly ignored your husband, waiting for his answer.

“I think your wife is referring to her birth defect. She was born with a kidney that’s rather small and has a hard time keeping up the process of cleaning her blood, as while the other one is normal in size. But unfortunately, that’s not the one failing.”

You closed your eyes. “So, the good one.”

“That’s the thing. I noticed something about it. I found your blood levels concerning, so I ran a few more tests. There’s a lot of protein in your urine. Have you had a history of using the bathroom often?”

“Yes.” You said quietly. “But it was always like that.”

“Did it lessen over the years?”

That made you pause and you took a moment to actually think about it. Looking back, as a child, you had to use the bathroom at least every hour. But these last few years…

“Yes, I think so. Why?”

He nodded with a solemn expression on his face. “I assumed so. I have a bad idea about what might be going on. I’m sorry to say this, but neither of your kidneys was working properly. They were just barely keeping you alive at this point.”

“Wait.” His voice was so soft that you barely even heard it, but it was enough to make the doctor’s head snap up.

“Yes?”

“So, she was born with one kidney damaged. And the other one is failing right now.” His grip on your hand slackened and so did his expression. You slowly turned your head to look at him and the sight of him nearly made you go pale. He was pale. His eyes were and his hair a mess. You had never seen him look like this before. He looked so…so…afraid. “Did…Did something cause her kidney failing? Did someone cause-“ He stopped and you felt the way his hands were shaking.

And you suddenly realized what he was asking. What he was thinking.

Did I cause her kidney to fail? Is it me who almost killed her?

You quickly reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, but all he could do was stare at the doctor with the same horrified look.

The doctor leaned back in his chair, clutching the papers in his hand and he sighed deeply.

And to your horror, he nodded. “I’m afraid it were indeed external circumstances that caused your wife’s kidney to give in. I’m afraid someone might have poisoned her.”

For a moment everything was quiet, except for the soft humming of the machines, the slow drip of the IV. But then something in his face changed. The fear turned to the same murderous look he held whenever he got so ungodly angry.

“Poisoned her?” He said slowly.

The doctor nodded again. “I’ve found her sodium chloride levels are concerningly high. And unless she hasn’t been eating spoonsful of salt every day for months or years of her life, someone might have slipped her a preparation.”

His expression changed yet again and now he looked at you with a mixture of fury and pleading; pleading to believe him that it hadn’t been him who tried to poison you. But you were already more than aware.

“I know who did it.” You said quietly. Both of them stared at you in shock.

“What?” Asked the doctor.

You nodded slowly. “My mother. She gave me medicine for my slow kidney since I turned fourteen. I never questioned it.”

The doctor’s expression turned sour at the mention of that. “If that truly is so, we have to inform authorities and-“

“My mother is dead.” You said without flinching.

“Oh, that’s…alright, then. However, it would make sense. It’s good you stopped taking the medication. Had you continued to take it, it might have caused a cardiac infarction. Your husband said you just recently turned twenty-five. That’s not normal. It was highly intentional. Your mother caused great harm on you, miss.”

You took a slow breath to try and keep yourself from crying, but it was useless. Tears clouded your vision and you hid your face behind your hands.

Despite the tension in his body, the anger coursing through his veins, his hands were gentle in your hair.

“It’s okay.” He whispered in a mixture of furious and tender. “She won’t ever harm you again. No one will.”

It took you a few minutes to finally calm down again, but when you did, he gently pulled your hands from your face and looked at you with the same concerned look.

“So, what does this mean now?” He asked the doctor. “What will become of her?”

The man looked down at the files on his lap and shook his head. “On the long term, she will need a kidney transplant.”

It was the worst thing he could have said. The worst. A quick death was what you always anticipated and hoped for. Him losing his patience and shooting you in a fit of anger didn’t sound half as bad as that did. You knew how these things ended. You’d get on a list and you’d never ever get a kidney in time. And if you did, your body would fight it and you’d end up dying anyway.

He seemed to have the same thoughts, because you felt him freeze. His grip on your hand stayed the same, but all the color drained from his face. “Transplant?”

The doctor nodded. “On the long term, yes. We already put you on the waiting list, miss. We’ll do our best, I promise you and I stand by my promise. You’ve been through so much and you’re so young. We’ll do our best for you. Until then…you’ll have to go with dialysis.”

You were crying silent tears, begging and praying on the inside.

God, why me and why that? Why couldn’t it have been me who fell on the trainlines instead?

“Dialysis.” Your so-called husband responded in a breathless whisper. “That…that’s not so bad, right? It’s not like chemotherapy.”

The doctor nodded. “It’s still a great effort for her body to take, but it’s not comparable to cancer. She’ll be weakened, yes, but she’ll be able to perform basic tasks and take care of herself. And we’ll be working to find a kidney for her as fast as possible. A kidney isn’t as hard to find as a heart would be. It’s not likely. You might even get lucky and have a donor in your circle.”

He released a slow breath and drew gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

“You said you had good news for us?” He asked quietly.

The doctor nodded slowly and set the papers aside. His expression calmed somewhat and he regarded you both with a long look, before his gaze settled on your face.

“You’re seven weeks pregnant.”

He might as well have punched you, because that was exactly how you felt.

You wanted to react, in any way really. But you had no idea how you felt. How you were supposed to feel. You only knew that you were terribly afraid.

And so you slowly looked over to the man hunched beside you, trying to gauge his own reaction. Was he happy about this? Was he angry? His face gave nothing away. He looked dumbstruck. And for the first since you knew him, he looked genuinely terrified.

“Pregnant.” He whispered.

His gaze slowly wandered to you and back to the doctor. “But her kidney-“

“It is not impossible to carry a child in her condition. There may be a few complications and the risk is slightly higher than it would be if she was completely healthy, but it isn’t impossible.”

“What does slightly higher mean? Higher chance to die? No, forget it.” He bit out. “We’re not doing this.”

“Forgive me, but-“

“No.” He said firmly. “I’m not going to let her die over this.”

The doctor cleared his throat and nodded. “I understand that. And what you’re going to do will be you and your wife’s own decision in the end. I’d just like to make the following clear: She can still take the dialysis, even while pregnant. We could perform a peritoneal dialysis. It would have to be done every day, but she could do it at home. It’s rather uncomplicated.”

He was still rigid beside you and just as he was about to snap at the doctor again, you spoke in a quiet voice, causing him to stop himself.

“Would it harm the baby?”

The doctor smiled a gentle, reassuring smile. “No.”

“And the baby wouldn’t have any disadvantages due to my lack of a functioning kidney?”

“There’s always the possibility that the baby might come early. We’d have to keep a keen eye on its development, of course. It could be that it gets born with a birth weight of under 2.500 gram. That’s not uncommon for cases like yours, but it by far wouldn’t be the first one.”

You felt your insides twist painfully. Everything was simply too much. You still hadn’t gotten over the fact that your own mother tried to murder you for some reason and now you were here. Pregnant. Talking about things like birth weight.

“Am I-“

“I told you, this isn’t up for discussion.” His firm voice suddenly interrupted you.

You bit your lip and looked up at the doctor. “Could I get a moment alone with my husband?”

He immediately got up and gathered the documents surrounding him. “Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

The moment the door shut behind him, he shot you a crazed look. “There’s no way in hell you’re actually considering this.”

You stayed silent. A part of you wanted to fight him on this, but you felt weak. Too weak to argue, too weak to even speak. Something had changed, something had changed so drastically that you didn’t even know what you wanted anymore. The only thing you truly knew…

“I can’t kill it.”

He took a deep breath and sat down beside you again. “We’re not killing it. It doesn’t understand what’s going on. It is too tiny to feel pain.”

“But it’s our baby.” The words slipped out in a pained whisper before you could stop yourself and the effect your words had on him was immediately recognizable. His eyes softened the same instant.

“I know.” He said quietly and reached for your hand again. “And I’m dying to have a baby with you. Really, I am. But not if it means you might die trying to bear it.”

“But the doctor said-“

He gently cupped your face in his palms and made you look up at him. “You’re sick.” His voice sounded as firm as it was gentle. His eyes were practically pleading with you. “You’re sick and I can’t lose you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and gently circled his wrist in your hand. You were probably being manipulative, you were biased anyway. Unlike your mother, you immediately loved your child. You didn’t understand it. Didn’t even fully realize that it was truly there, inside you, but you loved it. And you couldn’t kill it. Never.

You gently got hold of his hand and guided it down your chest, until it reached your abdomen and you pressed it down softly.

His eyes followed your movement and he seemed to hold his breath. He wanted it just as much as you did, if not more. You saw it in his eyes. The tenderness. The pain. The instant protectiveness. Everything you loved about him.

The man who cut your hair and hit you when you spoke out of line, he was gone. The man who took your name and your identity from you, the man who threatened you, the man who scared you – he was nowhere to be found.

He was still the same, dangerous man underneath it all. You knew that. There was no way you could ever forget it. After seeing him murder someone twice – and maybe a third time – you knew what he was.

But in that moment? In that moment, he was somebody else.

The husband type of guy.

Your guy.

Your man.

And you were his. Only his.

He released a slow breath and his gaze slowly wandered up from your stomach to your face.

“I can’t.” He said quietly.

When you shot him a confused frown, he sighed and leaned back, but he kept his gentle grip on you.

“I can’t lose you.”

You sighed softly and gently tightened your grip on his hand. “But I might die anyway.”

His eyes darkened at that. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare even think that.” He hissed.

“It’s true.” You said quietly. “How high is the chance that I get a kidney in time? How many people live in Korea?”

“Don’t think about that now.” The determination is his voice was almost reassuring. Almost. Like he knew something that you didn’t. “I’ll find a way.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “All you need to do is focus on yourself, alright? Nothing else. I’m going to take care of everything else.”

“Okay.” You said quietly, even though you were not even close to convinced. What would he take care of? What did that mean? You had a bad feeling about it. “But I’m not having an abortion.”

He exhaled slowly. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

You smiled weakly. “And you hate that about me, don’t you?”

Surprisingly he returned the smile and gently touched your chin. “I love that about you.”

His gaze wandered back down to where his hand lay and he slowly shook his head. “Are you really sure about this? It won’t be easy.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

His brows furrowed in thought and he didn’t meet your gaze yet. “I’m going to be a terrible father.”

That sent a spark of pain through you, because you heard the sorrow in his voice. What a silly man he was. Didn’t he see it?

“No. You’re going to be a wonderful father.”

He scoffed and attempted to look away, but your hand shot out and you gently touched his cheek, guiding him to look back at you. He seemed surprised, but he still let you.

“You are going to be a wonderful father.” You said slowly and firmly. The firmness in your voice took you by surprise, but you didn’t back down. For some reason, you were more than convinced of your own words. “You’re going to be everything your own father wasn’t.”

Under the gentle touch of your hand, you felt him tense, but he didn’t look away and it wasn’t anger in his eyes. It was uncertainty. Fear, maybe. And a whole lot of disbelief.

“How would you know that?”

“I know how it feels to be loved by you.” You said quietly. It was true. He was a twisted freak, someone who had missed not many an opportunity to hurt you. But at the same time, he protected you. He cared about you and he went to extreme lengths for you. “Wouldn’t you die for me?” You didn’t understand your own question or why you asked it, but something made you. A higher power, something that took control over your mind and tongue.

His frown deepened and he tightened his grip on you. “What a dumb question.”

You nodded and gently caressed his cheek. “That’s why I’m sure.” You whispered. “I want this baby. I want our baby. Because I…I trust you to take care of me. Of us.”

He kept staring at you with the same thoughtful, pained frown, until he finally closed his eyes and gently buried his face against your midsection.

“You’re such a stubborn idiot.” He murmured.

You smiled and gently buried your fingers in his hair. “Such a harsh way to talk to the mother of your child.”

You heard his smile, even though you didn’t see it. “I have a few conditions though.”

He looked back at you with a stern glint. You raised a brow and waited for him to continue.

“You don’t do anything. All you’re going to do for the time being is lay in your bed, read your books and nothing more. You’ll leave everything to me and you’ll listen to me. Understood?”

For some reason, that made you smirk. “Or else what?”

His eyes darkened. “Understood?”

Your smile softened and you nodded. “Understood.”

He sighed deeply and regarded you with a careful look. He still didn’t seem all too convinced.

“Alright.” He murmured.

“One more thing.” Your eyes shot open and you looked at him, the softness and warmth gone from your tone. “What happened today?”

He tensed again and averted his gaze. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“What? But that guy who followed us-“

“Shh.” He shot you a glare. “Stop it. No one followed us.”

You frowned incredulously. “I’m not letting you shut me out like this. Where did the blood come from? What did he want?” You said lowly, looking over his shoulder to make sure there was no one listening in on your conversation.

“This is neither the time nor the place.”

“You said something about my mother.” You suddenly remembered. “Before I passed out. Tell me the truth. I’m not joking. What about my mother?”

He clenched his jaw. He was losing his patience, but so were you. “I didn’t-“

Now it was you who shot him a glare. “Tell me.”

“Listen.” He said slowly as he leaned back and shot you another stern look. “I can’t have you stressed out right now. Did you forget what happened last time?” He tugged gently on the IV as if to remind you.

But you didn’t let him and you caught his hand in your own. “Tell me. Right now. Why did he follow us? Did he-“ Your eyes widened and your grip on him loosened. “Oh God.” You whispered. “Oh God, she sent him.”

He immediately caught you by the shoulders as you tried to sit up. “Calm down, okay? Stop this. It’s not that dramatic.”

“She sent him.” Your voice grew shaky in panic. The same woman who had systematically tried to poison you. The same woman who marked you. Who isolated you. The woman who was supposed to love you and give her life for you. “Did you kill him?”

“No.” He said quietly.

“No?”

He shook his head. “He’s in the wardrobe.”

You felt yourself go pale. “What? In the-“

“Don’t. Panic.” He said firmly. “I’m not letting him leave like that. I have plans for him. I’m going to find out what he knows and how he found it out. And I’m not letting him get back to her. I have his phone and everything else.”

The dizziness came back the same instant and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey, hey.” He murmured and gently touched your cheek. “It’s alright. Don’t worry. You’ll never see her again. I promise you. Over my dead body. And you don’t have to see him either. All of that is nothing but a matter I’m going to take care of.”

You nodded weakly, but inside you felt nauseous. How on earth did she find out?

“And the blood?” You whispered.

He scoffed. “The bastard tried to inject me something. And he even had a taser. What kind of man would use a taser?”

You took a shaky breath. “But he didn’t?”

He shook his head. “You think I’d let him?” He smiled bitterly. “When I looked outside, I saw his gun and I knew something was off. I immediately knew he wanted something from you. Why else would he have followed us? I also have no idea how he found the right apartment by the first try. There are many things I don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out. But you.” He shot you a stern look. “You are going to stay in bed and do nothing but take care of the little one right here.” He gently prodded your bellybutton with his index finger and it almost made you smile.

If it wasn’t for your mother, you would have smiled.

“I can’t go back to her.” You whispered. “I’ll die before I do.”

He inhaled slowly and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “No one’s taking you away from me. And anyone who tries, will see.”

After a while, the doctor came back. He explained a few more things and after running a bunch of tests, he announced you wouldn’t have to go through dialysis yet. He’d have to check your kidney progress twice every week and there would be no way to avoid it, by the time your slow kidney decided to give up entirely.

But until then, you’d check your blood pressure three times every day and unless it got worse – you were free to act normal. Of course everything was a bit complicated so he prohibited you from taking any demanding tasks. But so far, and unless you weren’t taking the dialysis, your pregnancy wasn’t high-risk. He said that he would prefer it, if you took things easy – “Oh, she will, don’t worry. I’m not letting her leave the bed.” – but he gave you green light for light tasks and intimacy. Before you left, he said something to the doctor in Korean. They both glanced at you quickly before they slowly left the room, leaving you there in confusion and suspicion.

The drive home was rather quiet. Both of you were lost in your thoughts and your fears, but he kept a possessive grip on your thigh the whole way.

“You can’t die, you know.” He suddenly said. “If you did, I’d follow you and kick your ass.”

You smiled softly and looked up at him, but his gaze was trained on the street and there was not a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“I won’t.” You said quietly. “Who else would show you how to change a diaper?”

Now, that made him smirk. “As if you know that.”

You laughed quietly. “We’ll learn it together.”

He took a turn and parked in the car park. When he was done, he slowly turned to face you.

“Are you really sure you want to go through with this?”

“I am.” You said gently.

He took a breath and nodded. “Alright.” Just as he was about to open the door, you held him back.

“What did you ask the doctor?”

His brows shot up in surprise. “What?”

“You know what I mean. Before we left, you spoke in Korean. What was that about?”

He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze. He got worse and worse when it came to lying to you.

“Come on, let’s get inside. I have to take care of a few things.”

___________________________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Author's note: Surprise, surprise. Hehe. Also, guys, I have a feeling I'm stuck between half the readers wanting more angst and drama and the other half wishing for more fluff. Might have to throw some flashbacks in?

Love you!

[rafayelxsylusho]

the jealous fic series is sooo good! can’t wait for the sylus one

I almost forgot about my man. Thanks for reminding me!

Hope you like it!!

How the LADS men fu€k jealousy out of you.

TW: SMUT

***There is a quote from a book that some of you have probably read before, I just really wanted to use it in one of sylus fics😊😊***

Sylus 🐦‍⬛

You had been looking forward to surprising Sylus at home, craving some much needed alone time with him after recent missions that kept you apart. However, once you got to his place you found the house quiet and empty. No sign of Sylus anywhere. A flicker of concern began to rise in your chest as you wandered the halls, calling out his name, but only the echo of your own voice greeted you.

You found Luke and Kieran in the study, engaged in their usual antics, lounging on the plush leather sofas, having a lively discussion that ended abruptly when they noticed you.

"Look Kieran, our favorite hunter came to visit," Luke drawled. "Here to see the boss man, y/n?"

Kieran sat up and offered you a genuine smile. "Boss isn't here at the moment," he explained "He's been called away to attend a rather important auction tonight."

"Auction?" you asked, frowning. "What auction?"

Luke leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The big one. The one everyone's talking about. The one boss has been prepping for all week."

You try to recall any mention of an important auction Sylus had spoken of, but as much as you rack your brain you come up empty. It's not like him to keep something like this a secret from you. A flicker of concern crosses your face as you wonder why he wouldn't have mentioned it to you directly.

"So, when will he be back?" you asked, trying to sound casual even as you felt a flutter of disappointment at his absence.

Kieran shrugged. "Hard to say. These things can go on for hours. Days even. Depends on how stubborn the other bidders are."

Luke snorted. "And how determined Sylus is to win."

You find yourself waiting for Sylus to return home from the mysterious auction. The hours tick by, and to pass the time, you decide to engage in some friendly competition with Luke and Kieran. The three of you spend the next couple of hours engrossed in a highspeed, adrenaline pumping videogame.

In between races, you raid the well stocked kitchen, returning with an array of tasty treats and Sylus' prized collection of gourmet chocolates.

As the night wears on you can't help but glance at the clock more frequently, wondering what's keeping Sylus. A regular auction should have ended by now, and while he is known for his meticulous attention to business dealings, this delay is starting to feel a bit longer than usual.

You decide to reach out to Sylus. You pull out your phone and dial his his private number, the one reserved for emergencies and urgent matters. After a few rings, his deep, smooth voice fills your ear.

"Y/n, what is it?" his tone unusually distracted. It's clear that he's in the midst of something important, his words clipped and hurried. The sound of muffled voices and distant commotion can be heard in the background, hinting at a crowded and chaotic environment.

"Hey, I'm at your place with Luke and Kieran," you explain, trying to keep your own voice casual despite the unease you feel. "I've been waiting for you to come home. Is everything alright?"

There's a pause, and you can almost hear the gears turning in Sylus' mind as he considers his response. "Yes, everything's fine," he says at last "This auction... it's taking longer than expected. Complications arose with a few of the other attendees." He sighs, and you can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, a telltale sign of his exasperation and stress. "I'm doing what I can to wrap things up, but it may be a while."

Your heart skips a beat as you hear a woman's voice, a stranger's melodic tone. The woman's words are muffled, but her term of endearment "Sylus darling" rings out crystal clear through the phone speaker.

You stiffen, gripping the phone tighter as a flurry of unwelcome thoughts and emotions wash over you. A cold, sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach, and you suddenly feel like an intruder in the intimate moment.

"I apologize, kitten, but I must go," Sylus says abruptly, his voice tight and strained. "I'll deal with this and be home as soon as I can. Wait for me" With that, he ends the call, leaving you staring at your phone in stunned disbelief.

"Shit, was that Ira?" Luke asks looking at Kieran.

Your head snaps up as Luke's question hangs in the air, a sense of confusion etched on your face. Kieran, noticing your expression, quickly elbows Luke to silence him, shooting him a warning glare.

"Shh, don't be an idiot," Kieran hisses under his breath, though not quiet enough that you don't hear him. "You shouldn't go around throwing around names like that without knowing for sure."

Kieran clears his throat, his expression turning somber as he sees the confusion and hurt in your eyes. "Ira is just an old business partner of Sylus," he explains carefully, choosing his words with deliberate precision. "They have a history together, but it's all about work. Nothing more.

Unable to shake the sense of unease in your gut, you eventually make your way upstairs to Sylus' bedroom, hoping to find some sense of comfort and familiarity in the space that has become so closely associated with the man you've come to love so deeply. You curl up on the plush, king-sized bed, inhaling the faint scent of Sylus' cologne that still lingers on the silken sheets. As exhaustion finally overtakes you, you drift off to a fitful sleep, your dreams fragmented images of Sylus and the unknown woman, their figures intertwined in ways that make your heart ache with a painful, jealous fervor.

When you awaken sometime later, the first light of dawn just beginning to peek through the curtains, you reach out instinctively for Sylus, only to find the space beside you cold and empty. You check your phone, hoping for a message or a call, but there is nothing.

You know you can't stay here, not like this, not with the way your mind is racing. The feelings inside you threaten to consume you, jealousy, anger, and a deep, abiding fear of losing the man you love.

As you zip up your backpack, the weight of your decision to leave Sylus' place feels both heavy and necessary. You take a deep breath and make your way back to your apartment.

Once inside the familiar confines of your own space the memory of Tara's camping invitation surfaces, and you realize that the solitude of the city may be more than you can bear in your current state of mind. Without hesitation, you pull out your phone and dial Tara's number, praying that she hasn't already made other plans or filled the available spots on her trip. She answers on the second ring, her voice bright and cheerful.

"Hey, Tara," you say, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "I know I already declined the camping trip, but... I've changed my mind. If the offer still stands, I'd love to join you and the team this weekend."

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the surprise and delight in Tara's voice as she responds. "Of course, y/n! You're more than welcome to join us. I'm so glad you changed your mind," she says warmly, her words a balm to your battered soul. You thank Tara profusely, already feeling a weight lift from your shoulders at the prospect of escaping the city and the thoughts on your mind.

During the trip Tara and the rest of the team were wonderful hosts, ensuring that you were kept busy and distracted with hikes, campfire stories, and hearty meals. As the night of the trip wears on you lose yourself in the simple joys of the outdoors, the smell of pine needles and woodsmoke, the distant hooting of an owl, the warmth of your friends gathered around the flickering fire. Slowly but surely, the tightness in your chest begins to ease, and the painful thoughts of Sylus and the mysterious woman start to recede.

By the time the weekend draws to a close, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, the fresh air and company of your friends having done wonders to clear your head. The feelings of jealousy are still there, lingering in the back of your mind, but they no longer threaten to consume you as they once did.

As you step into your apartment in the late afternoon, the familiar scent of home envelops you, offering a sense of comfort and security that you desperately crave. The weight of the weekend's emotions and the long journey back to the city have left you exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Without hesitation, you make your way to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grime and weariness of the past couple of days. As the hot water cascades over your skin, you let out a sigh, allowing the steam to fill your lungs and cleanse your mind.

You linger in the shower for longer than necessary, the heat of the water soothing your aching muscles and helping to melt away the lingering tension that has taken up residence in your body. By the time you step out, your skin is pink and tingling, and a sense of renewed energy courses through your veins.

As you towel yourself dry, you remember the need to charge your phone, which had died during the camping trip due to the lack of a reliable power source. You pad out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of damp footprints on the hardwood floor as you make your way to your backpack. Fishing out your phone from the depths of the bag, you plug it in and watch as the screen flickers to life, the dim glow illuminating your face, the phone chimes and you take a deep breath before unlocking the screen. The anticipation of seeing Sylus' name among the list of notifications makes your heart race in your chest, a mix of hope and dread swirling within you.

As the messages load, you scan the list of senders, your eyes widening as you realize that there is not a single one from Sylus among them. You set your phone down on the kitchen counter, the glow of the screen illuminating the darkened room as you rummage through the cabinets for a glass. The house feels strangely quiet, a stark contrast to the lively chatter and laughter that filled the campsite just hours before. As you fill your glass with cool, refreshing water and take a long sip, you can't help but let your mind wander back to the memory of Sylus' curt goodbye and the sound of that woman's voice, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth that even the cold water can't wash away.

You set the glass down with a heavy sigh, your reflection staring back at you from the darkened window above the sink. In the dim light, you can see the weariness etched into the lines of your face, the shadows beneath your eyes a testament to the restless nights, and just as you're about to turn away from the window, a sudden movement outside catches your eye. You lean closer, peering out into the darkness, and your heart leaps into your throat as you see a tall, familiar figure standing beneath the dim glow of the streetlamp.

It's Sylus.

He stands motionless, his dark silhouette unmistakable even at this distance. He seems to be looking directly at your window, though you're not sure if he can actually see you through the darkness and the reflection on the glass. You take a tentative step back from the window, lots of questions race through your mind. What is Sylus doing here? How long has he been waiting? You freeze at the sound of a knock, your heart leaping into your throat as a wave of panic and adrenaline surges through your body. The knock comes again, more insistent this time, the sound of Sylus' fist against the wood unmistakable.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart as you make your way towards the door. You pause for a moment, your hand on the doorknob, and take one last steadying breath before turning the knob and pulling the door open.

"Sylus," you say, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Even in the dim light of the hallway, you can see the intensity of his gaze, the crimson eyes that seem to pierce right through you, seeing straight into your very soul. He's dressed in a dark shirt and pants, his hair slightly disheveled, as if he's been running his hands through it in agitation.

"Hello kitten" Sylus murmurs, "how was your trip?"

"It was fine," you say shortly. "How did you know I went on a trip?"

Your mind races as you wonder how Sylus could possibly know about your last-minute decision to join Tara and the others for the weekend. You didn't mention it to anyone. So how did he find out?

Sylus leans against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space. He looks tired, you notice, the lines around his eyes a little deeper than usual. But there's a intensity to his gaze, a fierce focus that makes your heart skip a beat.

"I have my ways," he says, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips "The real question is, why did you leave without telling me?" His voice is low and smooth, but there's an undercurrent of frustration beneath the calm exterior. 

"Come in," you say softly, stepping back to allow him entry. As Sylus steps into your apartment, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine, his broad shoulders brushing against the doorframe as he moves past you.

Sylus turns to face you, his crimson eyes searching yours in the dim light cast by the single lamp you left on before your trip. He looks different in the low light, softer somehow, the harsh angles of his face gentled by the shadows. But there's still a intensity to his gaze, a fierce determination that makes your heart race in your chest.

You stand there, clutching the towel tightly around your body. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of the emotions that have been building for days.

"Well? Are you going to invite me to sit down, or are we going to stand here all night?" There's a undercurrent of impatience in his voice, a frustration that belies the casual tone.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, and gesture towards the couch. "Of course, please, make yourself comfortable," you say, the words sound too formal to your own ears.

You turn to head to your bedroom, suddenly feeling the chill of the air on your damp skin beneath the thin towel "I'm going to change," you say over your shoulder, not looking back at him as you make your way to your bedroom.

You gasp as you feel Sylus' strong hand grab the back of your neck, his fingers curling around the damp skin and pulling you gently but firmly towards him. The sudden contact sends a jolt of electricity through your body, your heart stuttering in your chest as you find your back pressed against the firm wall of his chest.

"Sylus," you breathe out "what are you doing?"

His other hand comes to rest on your hip, his long fingers splaying across the curve of your waist, holding you firmly in place. You can feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of the towel, the warmth seeping into your flesh and making your pulse race.

Sylus leans down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear as he speaks, his voice a low murmur. "I couldn't let you walk away without getting an answer first," he says, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me, kitten, why did you leave without telling me? There's a undercurrent of emotion in his voice, a frustration that he can't quite hide. His grip on your neck tightens slightly, not enough to cause pain, but enough to make it clear that he has no intention of letting you go until he gets the answers he wants. You can feel the tension radiating off him, the coiled energy of a man on the brink of losing control. It both frightens and exhilarates you, the power he holds in his hands, the way he can make you feel with a single touch.

"Sylus, please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you try to pull away from him. "Not like this. I can't think straight when you touch me like this."

Sylus chuckles darkly, a low, rumbling sound that you can feel vibrating through his chest pressed against your back. His fingers tighten briefly on your hip before releasing you, only to trail slowly up the curve of your side, his touch feather light and teasing. "Like what, kitten?" he murmurs in your ear. "I haven't even touched you yet, not the way I want to. Not the way you need me to."

His hand reaches the side of your breast, his fingers grazing the swell of it through the damp towel. You can feel your nipple tightening in response, betraying your body's desire for his touch.

"Tell me why you left, y/n," Sylus demands, his voice hardening with impatience. "And don't lie to me."

You take a shaky breath, Sylus' proximity and touch making it hard to focus on anything else. "I...I needed some time to myself," you admit "To clear my head and think things through."

Sylus' hand stills on your breast, his fingers curling possessively around the soft mound. "Think things through about what?" he asks, a hint of something dark and dangerous lurking beneath the smooth surface of his voice.

You swallow hard, knowing you can't avoid the conversation any longer. "About us," you confess, the words falling from your lips "About what this...thing is between us. I didn't know how to handle it, so I left."

His lips brush against your shoulder, the ghost of a kiss that makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. You can feel the heat of his breath, the dampness of his tongue as he traces the curve of your collarbone. "Tell me, kitten," he breathes against your skin, "is this what you needed to escape from? Me, touching you like this? Wanting you like this?"

His hand slides down your arm, his fingers intertwining with yours. He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"Because if it is, I can make it so much worse. Or so much better," Sylus promises darkly "All you have to do is say the word, sweetie."

"Who is she, sy?" You whisper, words barely audible but you know he heard you. Sylus' teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck, his lips curling into a smirk against your flesh. He knows exactly what you're asking, but he's in no hurry to answer, not when he has you like this bare, breathless, and at his mercy.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, the dampness of the water that clings to you. "You know, for someone who needed to clear their head, you seem awfully focused on her." Sylus' hand slides down to your waist, his fingers splaying possessively over your stomach. The evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your backside as he holds you close.

"Ira is someone I knew from my past. We were discussing a mutual investment opportunity. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about."

"Is that so?" you ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Sylus chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. He nips at your neck again, a little harder this time, sending a jolt of sensation straight down your spine.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, kitten," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. "But I must admit, it's...intriguing. Seeing this side of you, the side that wants to claw and scratch and mark what's hers."

Sylus spins you around to face him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. With a sharp tug, he yanks the towel down, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. Your nipples pebble instantly, peaks tightening under the sudden exposure and the intensity of Sylus' gaze. His hands slide up your ribcage, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts, teasing the sensitive skin. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, the evidence of his power and strength, the way he could take you and claim you and make you his. His hands still on your breasts, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he holds you in place. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, his crimson eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath away. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, filled with raw emotion.

"What makes you think I could ever look at another woman the way I look at you?" Sylus asks "Do you have any idea what it's like, y/n, to be consumed by someone, to have them under your skin, in your blood, in every fucking beat of your heart?"

He leans in closer, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with your own. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the power and the hunger that he keeps leashed, barely contained. Sylus' eyes flash with a mix of anger and pain, his grip on your breasts tightening almost uncomfortably. His voice drops to a low, fervent whisper "I've waited lifetimes for you, kitten, dreaming of the day I could hold you again, touch you again, make you mine again."

His thumb brushes over your nipple roughly, sending a jolt of sensation through you. "And this is what I get in return? You, running from me, doubting me?" Sylus' voice rises, the anger and the hurt bleeding through every word. His eyes darken with a predatory gleam, a smirk spreading across his face as he sees the fear and excitement in your eyes. His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, his voice a low, sinful purr. "Go ahead, kitten. Run. See how far you get before I catch you." Sylus' hand slides down to your ass, squeezing the flesh roughly. "Run, If I catch you, I fuck you"

The dark promise in his voice sends a thrill of fear and anticipation down your spine. Acting on instinct, you wrench yourself out of his grasp and turn to run, your bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor as you race up the stairs to your bedroom. You can hear Sylus' footsteps behind you, his long strides eating up the distance between you. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you reach the top of the stairs. You don't look back, you don't dare to see if he's close.

Just as you think you're about to reach the safety of your bedroom, you feel Sylus' Evol envelop you. An unseen force lifts you off your feet, strong and unyielding, pulling you back towards him. You let out a startled yelp, your hands grasping at the empty air as you're lifted higher, your bare breasts bouncing slightly with the movement.

"Sylus!" you cry out, a mix of fear and excitement lacing your voice. You're suspended in mid-air, towel no longer wrapped over the lower half of your body, your legs kicking futilely as you try to find purchase on the carpeted stairs.

"Did I say you could run that far, kitten?" Sylus' voice comes from behind you, dark and amused. You feel his presence looming over you, the heat of his body, the power radiating off him in waves. "I told you, I'd catch you. And now, I'm going to claim my prize."

Sylus' hands grip your bare thighs, his fingers sinking into your soft flesh as he hoists you over his shoulder. He carries you effortlessly, as if you weigh nothing at all, his steps never faltering as he walks towards your bedroom. You find yourself staring at his back, the broad expanse of his shoulders, the way his shirt stretches taut over the muscles beneath.

When he reaches your room, he kicks the door open, the wood slamming against the wall with a bang. He carries you inside and with a few more strides, he reaches the bed and tosses you onto it, your naked body bouncing on the mattress. You land on your back, your breasts heaving as you catch your breath. Sylus looms over you, his crimson eyes glinting in the low light, a smile playing on his lips. He takes in the sight of you, sprawled out and bare before him.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, your heart pounding as you watch Sylus remove his clothing. He starts with his tie, yanking it off and tossing it carelessly to the side. His fingers move to his shirt buttons next, undoing them one by one with deliberate slowness, as if he's savoring the anticipation of revealing what lies beneath. As he shrugs off his shirt, your breath catches in your throat. The dim light from the hallway casts shadows across the planes of his chest, highlighting the defined muscles, the sculpted abs, the V that disappears into his pants. You remember how his skin feels beneath your fingertips, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and your core clenches with sudden, desperate need. His hands move to his belt next, undoing the buckle with a sharp tug. The leather slips from his pants, falling to the floor with a soft thud. He undoes his fly slowly, inch by inch, until finally, he's shoving his pants and boxers down his long legs. He kicks them off to the side.

Sylus stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You've seen me like this before," he says softly, his voice rough with desire. "But I don't think you've ever really seen me. Not like I want you to see me." He crawls over you, his large frame covering your smaller one as he settles his hips between your thighs, the hard length of him pressing against your core. His hands come up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones, tilting your chin up to force you to meet his intense gaze.

"You should know very well that I adore you," Sylus murmurs, his voice low with emotion. "There is no love purer than mine" His crimson eyes search yours, the intensity of his feeling burning into your very soul. "But right now," he continues, his voice dropping an octave, turning dark and dangerous. "Right now, I'm going to fuck you like I hate you." His grip on your face tightens, his fingers digging into your skin.

Before you can process it he's thrusting forward, burying himself deep inside your tight, wet heat. A scream tears from his throat as he hilts himself fully, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. "FUCK!" Sylus roars, his voice echoing off the walls of your bedroom. At the same time, a scream of pleasure and surprise rips from your own throat, your back arching off the bed, "SYLUS!" you cry out, your voice breaking on a moan as he stretches you, fills you, completes you in a way that feels so right and so perfect.

For a moment, he stays still, buried deep inside you, his heart pounding against your chest, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. Then he starts to move, withdrawing until just the tip of his cock remains inside you, only to slam back in with a powerful thrust. "Oh god, Sylus!" you cry out, your voice hitching and breaking as he drives into you again and again. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you cling to him, your body rocking with the force of his thrusts.

Sylus feels your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locking at the small of his back. With an approving growl, he sits back on his knees, bringing you up with him. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he changes the angle of his thrusts, now driving up into you from below. "Fuck, just like that," Sylus grunts, his voice filled with lust. "Hold onto me, kitten. Wrap those pretty legs around me tighter." His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls you down onto his cock, meeting his upward thrusts with a force that steals your breath away

You can feel every thick, hard inch of him as he fills and stretches you, your inner walls clenching and fluttering around his length. The new position allows him to go even deeper, his cock kissing your cervix with every powerful thrust. You throw your head back, a silent scream of ecstasy on your lips as the pleasure builds and builds inside you. Sylus knows your body intimately, understands what buttons to push, what touches will send you flying. And right now, he's determined to draw this out, to make this last as long as possible. He wants to feel you come undone around him again and again, wants to hear you scream his name until your voice is hoarse and raw. So he restrains himself, ignoring the desperate pleas of your body as your hips buck and writhe against his, seeking more friction, more stimulation.

He keeps his hands on your hips, holding you, preventing you from chasing your pleasure. His hands avoid your throbbing clit, his lips and teeth avoid your aching nipples, even as they map your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive skin behind your ears.

"Please, Sylus," you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, your nails scraping his scalp. "Please, I need..." You can't even finish the sentence, too lost in sensation, too desperate for release.

"I know," Sylus murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I know exactly what you need, kitten. But I'm not going to give it to you. Not yet." He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, a twist of his hips that has you seeing stars. "You're going to come on my cock when I say you can come on my cock," Sylus commands, his voice low and dangerous. "And not a moment before."

Sylus uses all his strength to drag your hips down his length with brutal force. Your body is no longer your own as he manhandles you, using you for his pleasure. Each powerful thrust drives the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping, your tits bouncing wildly with every slam of his hips against yours.

"Fuck, your cunt feels incredible," Sylus growls, his eyes wild and fevered as he watches your body jolt and quake with his relentless pounding. "So fucking tight and wet and perfect. Made to take my cock". Your mind starts to go hazy, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm as he fucks you.

"Sylus!" you scream, your voice raw and broken as he rails into you. "Sylus, please, I can't...I can't..." But your protests only seem to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder, faster, more demanding.

Sylus leans in, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh at the top of your breast, marking you. He bites down hard enough to make you cry out, the mix of pain and pleasure short circuiting your brain for a moment. As he releases your skin, he laves the reddened mark with his tongue, soothing the sting.

"Do you want some help, kitten?" Sylus murmurs, his voice a low against your skin. He rolls his hips, grinding his pelvis against your aching clit, giving you a momentary respite from the relentless pounding. He waits for your response, his eyes glinting with a dark, knowing amusement. "Yes? No? Maybe so?" His tone is playful, taunting, as if he knows exactly what your answer will be. He reaches in between your bodies, his fingers find and circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, pushing you to the very edge of ecstasy. Your hips buck wildly against his hand, seeking more, craving more.

"Yes, Sylus," you manage to gasp out, your voice ragged and breathless." Please..please..please.." Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin.

 "That's my good girl," he purrs, rewarding your submission with a hard thrust. "Now, come for me, kitten. Come all over my cock. Let go, y/n . Give yourself to me completely."

With that command, Sylus leans down and drags the flat of his tongue over your nipple, the wet heat sending a shock of pleasure through your body. At the same time, his fingers find your clit, pinching the sensitive nub between them, rolling it, tugging on it, giving you the direct stimulation you've been aching for. The dual sensation is too much for you to withstand. Your body seizes up, back arching in a semicircle, as a intense orgasm crashes over you. "SYLUS!" you scream, your voice echoing off the walls, as wave after wave of ecstasy radiates out from your core, consuming you entirely. Sylus buries himself deep inside you once again, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he also finds his release. "Fuck, y/n , fuuuuuck!" his hot seed erupting from his cock and painting your insides. You can feel every twitch, every spurt of his thick come as he fills you up. Sylus' hips jerk and stutter, grinding against yours as he rides out the waves of his intense climax, pushing his seed deeper with every movement.

He collapses on top of you, his muscular frame blanketing your smaller one, pinning you to the mattress. He's still buried deep inside your fluttering, over sensitive heat, his softening cock plugging you up, trapping his seed inside you. His breath comes in harsh, ragged gasps as he rests his forehead against yours, his crimson eyes glazed and unfocused as he comes down from his intense high. Sylus takes a moment to marvel at the utterly debauched picture you make, hair mussed, skin flushed and slick with sweat, your bodies still joined intimately.

"I can adapt to any location and call it home, as long as I'm willing" Sylus murmurs, his voice low and intimate "but now I have a condition" His eyes bore into yours, the crimson depths swirling with unreadable emotions. "If you are not there then I'm not interested. "This," he gestures vaguely at the bedroom, but you know he means more than just the physical space, "means nothing without you in it."

Sylus' hand slides down to rest over your racing heart, feeling it beat against his palm. "You are my home, kitten. My haven. The one constant I crave." His voice drops to a fervent whisper, heavy with unspoken emotion. "So that condition is you must be there. Always. Or I will not settle for anything less."

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

This is gentle parenting. The amazing concept that your child is a human being.

(Permissive parenting is something else that doesn't work very well.)

For the most part, my parents tried to do gentle parenting. They didn't know of it as a parenting technique (it was the 80s, I'm not sure it had that name yet) and they weren't even trying for a specific technique.

My dad had this specific line he said once that stuck with me:

"We spend all of this time telling kids that hitting is bad and they shouldn't do it, and then we hit them for punishment? Seems counterproductive."

I did get spanked a few times, but it was mostly, in retrospect, out of fear for what I'd just done. I'd either endangered myself or someone else and scared the shit out of them so I got a tiny swat on the butt. Happened less than five times my entire childhood. They always apologized afterward, explaining that they'd been scared and that wasn't the right way to be scared.

Once it was because I seriously hurt someone and my dad, crying, told me that I needed to understand the pain I'd just put that person through. He was really upset, both that I'd hurt someone and that he needed to make me understand the hurt I'd inflicted. He cried the whole time. It was one of like four times I ever saw my father cry, my entire life. I was more upset at how sad he was than over the spanking.

Thing is, when you treat your child like a human being, they love you and you love them. They know that. Making you sad or upset or disappointed genuinely upsets them and makes them want to do better. Think about how you react when your favorite teacher is disappointed in you. How do you feel?

Now imagine if your favorite teacher and your parent both had the same place in your heart. You'd want to do them proud, wouldn't you?

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[kyunzin]

☆𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘?☆ - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

✰ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ✰ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐍. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐊. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ✰ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ✰ them overhearing you say you can take all of them at once (f!reader) ✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✰ pussy licking, fingering, hair pulling, praise, face fucking, manhandling, degrading, sloppy make out, spit kink, cum eating, blowjobs ✰ 𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ✰did you guys know word counters are useful😀 why had i already hit the word count ages ago (i roughly count by paragraphs 10 lines= 100 words/ 10 paragraphs =1k words yk so 30 paragraphs =3k words. i hit 3 k in like the 27th paragraph) also if you see any words that look like they’re missing a ‘h’ its because that key is broken for me and i probably forgot to edit it in :D

w.c ✰ 3.4

it's almost too much for you to handle

it's probably not a good idea to make promises you might not be able to keep

it's going to be fine, you’ll find a way to get through it since after all you can take it, cant you?

geto sucks in the whine you let out when gojo's tongue doesn't move, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, holding you down when you try to roll your hips into gojo's face. "you'll get what you want soon. 'm gonna give him a little taste so he doesn't bitch, keep your tongue flat and don't move it or else you wont get anything for the rest of the night" you can tell the last bit was directed at gojo as he responds with a hum of 'mm-hmm', the vibrations against your pussy cause your legs to twitch. geto guides your hands down towards gojo's hair and you instinctively you grip onto it.

you're near breathless, panting heavily when geto's lips part from yours, trying to chase his hips but he only breaks the kiss to quickly whisper to you "pull his hair he loves it" you follow his command, tugging firmly at his hair as instructed and the result doesn’t disappoint. gojo's moan goes straight to your core and you shudder in pleasure. "told you, he's a little pain slut" gojo lets out a whine at geto's comment and toji laughs clearly amused by the interaction yet you can only sit there aching for some more stimulation. "i thought you said it was rude to keep your guests waiting, yet here i am still waiting"

even though your words come out breathy toji smirks up at your little quip "fine. since you can't seem to wait, fuck yourself on his tongue but when i tell you to stop you do. understand?" he stands from is position on the floor, making his way to sit in a small arm chair off the side of the queen sized bed. "yes, fuck finally" you get to work immediately drag gojo’s tongue over your aching cunt, pulling his face further into your pussy while he keeps himself still for you to use. "where d’ya find this one, she's so demanding" in your periphery you can see him stroking is cock through his pants.

you ignore his words and focus on working gojo’s tongue, throwing your head back relieved that you’re finally able to gain some stimulation after being left waiting for so long. you can tell gojo’s enjoying this from the little vibrations of noises he lets out as well as his firm grip keeping your legs spread wide out next to him. geto's soft chuckle tickles the crook of your neck at the clear desperation of your movements "found her and her friend talking about all the things she would let us do to her in the middle of campus so proudly" you curl into his touch without halting the movement of your hands.

toji raises is eye brows at geto's words but you're too occupied with the feeling of gojo's wet tongue to notice. "and what exactly would she let us do to her?" toji says with a curious smirk eager to hear the answer. "why don't you tell him, i'm sure you had a lot more to say than what you told us, right?" you can hear the teasing tone in is voice, wishing that you wouldn't have to repeat yourself. a couple of seconds pass without your reply and the two of them realise that you didn't hear them, head thrown back on geto's shoulder, lost in the way gojo's tongue glides up and down your folds.

it’s hard to focus on what their saying when you’re so lost in your pleasure. gojo’s saliva oozes out his mouth, creating a hot wet mess between your legs as he practically drools all over you yet your pleasure is lost without any warning. "i asked you a question," you let out a choked sob when gojo is ripped away from you and try to chase his mouth with your hips only to be stopped by geto, opening your eyes to see gojo's spit soaked face smiling up at you mockingly while he inwardly mourns the loss of your taste on his tongue. "how will we know what to do, if you don't tell us?"

you know there's no use in trying to evade the question yet you're too frustrated to even care. "i want you to fuck my throat. want you to mess me up inside and out. i don't wanna be able to talk or walk after you're done with me," you turn to look at toji who's grin stretches from ear to ear. there's a very visible wet spot marking out where the tip if his cock lies yet his makes no moves to remove himself from his confines. you’d leave it at that but you might as well tell them the full extent of what you want "want you to fuck me up real good, whatever you want. do your worst, i can take it"

even though you may have skipped over a few minor major details you're sure that they would be able to get the gist. "atta girl, that wasn't so hard now was it. now we can finally get to the good shit" he rises from his place on the chair and makes his way over to the three of you with his yes locked with yours. toji's words paired with geto's soft "good girl" sends a thrill down your spine. geto’s calloused hands keep you grounded where you are as you start to get fidgety again “keep still, you’ll get what you want soon princess” his words still your little tremors as the promise of more eases your mind.

"toru' move i didn't get a good taste earlier" toji winks at gojo and as if on cue he follows his words without a moments fail, letting his hair loose from your hands you mourn the loss of his warmth between your legs, and you catch a glimpse of his dejected face as he stands up taking toji's previous place on the seat and you spot the raging tent in his joggers. "looks big doesn't it?" you nod your head as you continue to stare and upon noticing your gaping, gojo’s face lights up again. as if to show off gojo makes quick work of pulling out his cock, geto scoffs as his display and focuses his attention on you.

"i'm sure you'll be able to take it and if not, well i guess that's your problem isn't" you can hear his soft laughter from above you. gojo's size should be the least of your problems right now because the feeling of whatever is poking your head is breaking any hopes you had before of them being average. it’s stupid to keep that idealistic thought. your head snaps downward at the edge of the bed as toji settles himself between your legs with a predatory look in his eyes, stopping a few inches from you. “don’t worry, you’ll be able to take it with a little practice” that does little to ease your worries.

the yelp that you let out when toji lifts your calf and bites it has the other three in the room laughing at you. he keeps up his ministrations while placing each leg over his shoulders. "don't act so surprised sweet cheeks, i'm just getting into position" you can hear gojo mumble something about ‘taking his spot from him’ but pay him no mind as toji licks his way along your thigh "squeeze ya legs if you want, that way i’ll be able to tell how good i'm making you feel since you wont be able to speak" confusion must show on your face yet instead of satisfying your curiosity toji just winks at you.

toji’s calloused hands run up the length of your left leg pushing it to the side ever so gently, while he scatters ostentatious kisses along the other. his frequent kisses have your legs twitching in anticipation as he teases you, taking his sweet time, eyeing you closely until he finally presses a feather light kiss to your spit soaked clit. he pulls back and you watch as a thin wet string connects his lips, glistening with your slick, to your pussy until he licks them clean “s’ as sweet as sugar princess,” he leans down and repeats the motion this time with more emphasis “where’ve you been hiding?”

your response is a choked moan and your hands reach into his hair which he takes that as a sign to continue, sucking on you clit as if he’s expecting something to come out. he soon lets up and smiles down at your now puffy clit like a child proud of their drawing, rubbing his thumb in circles over it while your hand uselessly holds onto his thick wrist as his hand abuses your clit. “that feel good sweet cheeks?” you frantically nod your head as you bite your lips while trying to buck your hips into his touch but he suddenly stops with a harsh slap to your outer thigh which has you whining at the loss of stimulation.

“I want words cheeks and look at me when I’m talking to you” you don’t remember closing your eyes but you open them not surprised to see toji looking up at you from between your legs with a slick covered smile. a few seconds pass without your reply so he pinches your clit in warning and you quickly remember what else he wanted “fuck- yes it feels so fucking good please don’t stop” seemingly satisfied with your response he releases his hold on you and presses a kiss to your clit as if it’s an apology. “there we go. keep makin 'em pretty noises for me and I won’t have to check in so often”

a sudden movement behind you almost causes you to jolt in surprise, in one swift movement your hands are pinned above your head and your vision of toji is obscured by geto’s thighs straddling your chest, looking up to see him smiling at you. his hair frames his face as he looks down at you and he swiftly ties his hair into a bun at the back of his head. from this angle you're faced nearly directly under the swelling in his pants and you're slowly catching onto the meaning of toji's words. "don't look so surprised, this is what you said you wanted isn't it. i'm just giving you what you asked for"

geto's words remind you that even though his smile may look sweet and harmless he's just as cunning as the other two, he’s just able to hide it well. you're pulled out of your thoughts when geto starts to pull down his waistband, lowering it just underneath his balls. feeling it was one thing but seeing it right in front of you makes you worry for the state of your throat after he's done with you. at first glance you can tell that it'll be a mouthful, thick and girthy. geto’s hands gently lift you head from it’s position and your brought out of your thoughts.

"open nice and wide for me" you follow his words without question and two things happen at the same time. one, geto thrusts as much of his cock as he can down your throat causing your throat to constrict around him as you try not to choke and struggle to breathe at the same time. simultaneously toji decides at that exact moment to lick a stipe up your pussy to collect all of yours and his mess on his tongue, laying his tongue flat on your pussy only for it all to dribble back out his mouth creating an even wetter mess. “sounds like you’re having fun over there” gojo taunts.

both motions leave you spluttering around geto's cock and your legs threaten to close around toji's head despite the firm hold he has on them and you can hear gojo’s sardonic laugh in the background. tears begin to well in your eyes until geto taps your cheek to get your attention. “princess, breathe through your nose” you cant help but notice his voice comes out near strained and you hope you’re the reason for it. following his instructions you find that you can actually breath better though you still struggle a bit “isn't that much better?” you let out an appreciative hum and his response is immediate.

your just barely able to make out the small tensing of his abdomen through his shirt however you do feel the way his cock pulses down your throat as you try to maintain a steady breathing pattern. “told you you could take it” your lured into a false sense of security when geto slowly starts to pull back out of your throat only by a couple inches before he practically plunges back in, throwing your breathing off balance again however you remember his advice and try to regain composer as he waits for you. “such a good girl, taking me so well” he praises and you can feel tears begin to well in your eyes.

just when your able to control your breathing again toji agrees with him and his response is short hum into your pussy, which vibrations straight to you core. you had forgotten he was there with how consistent he’s been. as if before had only been a warm up he begins to lap hungrily at your pussy, letting his tongue edge slightly into you as if to tease you. instead of holding your legs apart like before he leaves them to clamp firmly around his head as you slowly try rock your hips into his face as much as you can but he holds you down by your hips “stop fucking moving and let me take care of you”

you hips still at his command and he presses a kiss to your pussy, causing your legs to tense from the feather like touch. “‘s like she’s eager to get her holes stuffed ” gojo snorts from the side of the room. you let out a whine of protest that gets swallowed by geto’s cock and he looks down at you with a disapproving face. “don’t lie to us sweet cheeks” toji bites into the flesh of your thigh and you feels the tears fall rolling down the side of your face from the sting of his teeth digging into your leg. you soon realise denying anything won’t get you anywhere as all motion stops around you.

“that won’t do will it,” geto stars to ease his way out of your mouth “if you’re not eager to be filled then I guess we can wait for the others to get here before we continue then” you hear gojo laugh out from the side of the room “seems like it’s gonna be at least another ten minutes before they all get her, sure you can wait that long princess?” they should know the answer to that question already but you know they won’t be satisfied until they hear it from your mouth. “let her speak” knew it. geto pulls out completely and you can feel the strain in your jaw from having it stretched for so long.

your throat feels raw and a bit too empty without geto occupying it but you push the feeling down so that you can respond before they begin to grow impatient. “please don’t make me wait,” you raise yourself onto your elbows, leaving your face mere centimeters away from geto's dripping tip and look over to gojo “I’m sure if they really wanted to be here they would make an effort to get here faster. so if they miss anything it’s their loss” toji strokes your thigh seemingly pleased with your answer “polite with an attitude, I like her. we might have to keep her” gojo lets out an agreeing hum.

“think she deserves a treat for bein such a good girl for us” before you can even begin to think about what the treat might be toji runs two fingers up your pussy, collecting all the wet mess. you can only assume that he sucks it into his mouth when you hear a pop sound after he removes his fingers from his mouth and your legs twitch again at the stimulation. only a second later does geto begin to inch his cock back into your mouth, holding the sides of your head gently “such cute noises she’s makin for us” geto agrees with a hum as he comes to a halt when he feels your throat close around him.

it’s only then do you realise that the soft mewls and whimpers that you’re hearing are coming from your mouth that’s wrapped around geto’s cock. “since I know you’re begging to be fucked, i’ll do ya a favor "your legs fall back onto the bed when toji rises from his position between your legs “toru come over here and open her up” in the corner of your eye you see gojo hop up with glee jumping almost too eagerly onto the bed, using his hand to practically shove toji out of the way. geto seems to be ignoring their interactions in favor of teasing his cock down your throat with shallow thrusts.

you can tell that he’s holding back from choking you with his cock from the concentrated look on his face as well as the fact that he’s not reaching nearly as deep as he was before. “that’s it. nice and easy” his soft spoken words soothe your nerves however it’s a futile attempt, as without warning gojo slides a nimble finger into you with little resistance and you can feel as his second knuckle breaches your entrance. the stretch of his finger has your throat sporadically closing around geto's cock which causes his concentration slips as his hips stutter, forcing his cock down your throat.

“s-shit sorry” he apologises while wiping tears that fall from you eyes as gojo slides in another finger, pushing in all the way to his knuckles. geto slowly eases his cock out of your throat allowing you to take in a few breaths of air loosening his grip on your hair. “don’t apologise to her,” your eyes dart to the side where you watch toji lazily stroking his cock until gojo curls his fingers and your eyes shoot upwards to geto who is letting out soft breaths while he massages his cock. “remember she said she could take it,” there's a sadistic undertone in his voice when he says “I’m sure she’ll be fine”

gojo repeats the motion and you let out a loud wail and your back fails to arch off the bed with geto’s weight on top of you “she’s squeezing me real tight down here, bet she likes it when you’re rough with her, isn't that right” it’s impossible to respond with how deep geto is now lodged down your throat. “you’re not gonna answer me cutie?” you knows he’s taunting you and you’re sure he’s smirking when he presses his thumb on your clit waiting for a response. your issue is resolved when geto’s pulls you off his cock and your head drops back down onto the pillow and your response is practically immediate.

“yesyesyes- fuck, it feels so good don’t stop” your eyes are a bit glossy from the few tears you shed earlier but you're still able to make out the rise in the corners of geto's lips while he looks down at your disheveled face. he adds insult to injury by rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips, letting his cockhead slightly slip but not fully teasing both himself and you in the process only making bigger mess of your face when it passes the corner of your lips and onto your cheeks. "sorry didn't mean to make such a mess, s'shame you can't clean it yourself." you know the apology’s fake but accept it anyway.

you would try to protest but gojo's relentless assault on your cunt prevents your mouth from making any coherent sounds other than what they can only presume to be his name. "want someone else to clean it up for you princess?" you know that it's futile to speak with geto's cock head laying heavy on the tip of you tongue so you lazily nod your head hoping that it's an accepted answer, in the process you also coat geto's cock with more of you saliva. yet before geto can even acknowledge your answer toji rises from his spot with pace and purpose in his steps. "i'll help ya out, move back"

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

end note ✰ I didn’t want the note to take up too much space but I talk quite a bit so here's an end note ;p. who do you guys want to join next { i might make a poll}? it’s already a challenge to give four people things to do at the same time idk how im going to manage seven.

✰ taglist ✰ @lik0 @yaygurist @dvarlinggg @valleydoli @yeet-ur-feet @silkija @nuggetalli @zillahgocrazy @satoryaa @yaya4thawin @nowhoremones @yeetlixs @happy2delivur @heliumshorns @chocopuchino @luvv4lurd @sorceira @maniaerodesi @chysalxsm @cobraisveryhorny @servalswifey @chrissysblog @futureittomainn @zacatecanaaaa @ichikanu @ameeeeeliie @bluupen @prettybakerswife @blankwashed @klumrine @chadychadyy2k @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @dl-yum @jalepp @kibananya @jjksimp3579 @xemmysblog @shawnberry @bleachisfood @barryatsumu @zennyxxy @dyeforkenma @bloomingheartss @sousblogga @alluresenses @zwmbizz @queenkassradite @dawnhero @xthatpottahfanx @loavibeycipoosan

[isak-dot-gov]

Operation Surprise Paige

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, but Paige’s busy practice schedule keeps her from spending the day with the reader. Wanting to make the night special despite the circumstances, the reader surprises Paige by setting up a cozy indoor picnic in her dorm,

Word count: 1069

My Masterlist :)

You stared at your phone screen for what felt like the hundredth time that day, rereading Paige’s last text:

PB: I’m so sorry, babe. Practice is running late. I promise I’ll make it up to you.

You sighed, setting your phone down on your lap. It wasn’t like this was a huge surprise—basketball was Paige’s life, and you knew that when you started dating her. But Valentine’s Day was supposed to be special. You had hoped for at least a few uninterrupted hours together, maybe a cute brunch date or a late-night dinner after practice. Instead, Paige was stuck in the gym, and you were sitting in your dorm, alone, wondering if you’d even get to see her before the day ended.

A part of you wanted to wallow in your disappointment, but another part—the one that loved Paige more than anything—refused to let this day be a complete letdown. If Paige couldn’t take you on a Valentine’s Day date, then you’d bring the date to her.

You wasted no time putting your plan into action. First, you grabbed your coat and headed off campus to pick up a few essentials. A quick stop at the store got you everything you needed: a fluffy picnic blanket, a string of warm fairy lights, a few battery-operated candles (because real candles in a dorm were a fire hazard), and, most importantly, all of Paige’s favorite snacks.

Then, you made a second stop at a bakery that you knew Paige loved. They had a special Valentine’s Day section, and you couldn’t resist grabbing a small heart-shaped cake with pink frosting that read, Be Mine? in white icing. It was cheesy, but you knew Paige would love it.

By the time you got back to her dorm, her roommate was nowhere to be found—perfect. You got to work, pushing the coffee table aside and setting up the picnic blanket in the middle of the floor. You arranged the fairy lights on the nightstand and around the window, their soft glow making the space feel warm and romantic. You placed the food neatly on the blanket, including the strawberries and Nutella because you knew Paige would devour them in minutes.

For the final touch, you pulled out a handwritten card you had made earlier. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a simple message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. Since you couldn’t take me on a fancy date, I figured I’d bring the romance to you. Hope you’re ready for the best dorm-room picnic of your life. Love, your #1 fan.”

You set the card next to the cake and took a step back, admiring your work. It wasn’t some expensive five-star dinner, but it was filled with love, and that’s what mattered most.

It was past 9 PM when you finally heard the sound of keys jingling outside the door. You quickly sat down on the blanket, waiting with anticipation.

The door swung open, and in walked Paige, looking absolutely exhausted. She had her gym bag slung over one shoulder, her hoodie slightly oversized, and her damp hair from a quick shower falling messily around her face. She was clearly ready to collapse into bed—until she took in the sight in front of her.

Her tired eyes widened as she scanned the room, from the fairy lights casting a soft glow to the carefully arranged picnic in the middle of the floor.

“Babe…” she breathed, dropping her bag by the door. “What—what is all this?”

You smiled up at her. “Your Valentine’s Day date,” you said, motioning to the setup. “Since we couldn’t go out, I figured I’d bring the date to you.”

Paige just stood there, staring at you like you had just hung the moon. “You did all this… for me?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “No, I did it for your roommate,” you teased, making her laugh softly.

She stepped forward, dropping to her knees on the blanket and cupping your face in her hands. “I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks.

“You really don’t,” you joked, earning another laugh before she leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

Paige wasted no time making herself comfortable, pulling you into her lap and resting her chin on your shoulder as she eyed the food. “Are those strawberries and Nutella?”

You grinned. “Of course.”

“God, I love you.”

You laughed, reaching for a strawberry and dipping it into the Nutella before holding it up to her lips. She took a bite, humming in satisfaction. “Mmm. Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Even better than last year, when we actually got to go to that fancy restaurant?”

Paige nodded without hesitation, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Way better. This is perfect.”

For the next hour, you sat together, eating and talking about everything and nothing at all. Paige stole more than her fair share of strawberries, and you made her feed you a few in return. The heart-shaped cake was a huge hit—Paige insisted on taking pictures of it before cutting into it, and she made you share the first bite with her.

At one point, she stretched out on the blanket, pulling you down so you were lying on her chest, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back. The sound of soft music playing from your phone mixed with the occasional sound of Paige yawning as she relaxed against you.

“This might be my favorite Valentine’s Day ever,” she admitted, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

You smiled, your fingers gently playing with the hem of her hoodie. “Really?”

“Really.” She tilted her head to look at you, her blue eyes filled with so much love it made your heart ache. “You didn’t have to do all this, but you did. You always do the little things that make me feel special.”

You felt your cheeks warm. “Well, you are special.”

Paige grinned before leaning in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. When she pulled back, she whispered, “I love you.”

Your heart swelled as you nuzzled closer to her. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, wrapped up in each other’s arms, surrounded by fairy lights and the warmth of your love, you knew that no matter how busy life got, as long as you had each other, every day would feel like Valentine’s Day.

[jarofstyles]

Can you do a valentines blurb where she has her period and feels bad about it but he reassures her? Thank you Miss jars!!!

Aw that would be so cute! Yes let me do that.❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Check out our Patreon for early access and 240+ exclusive writings and series

Warnings- mentions of period/ period sex, light food play? If you wanna consider it that. Fluff

Harry hummed happily as he dipped another one the ripe, red strawberries into a bowl of dark chocolate, coating it thoroughly before setting it on an appropriately heart shaped plate. Turning to her with a hand cupped underneath, he held out one of the ones that had set up and she had drizzled with white chocolate. "Open up, gorgeous. Need someone t’taste test. Don’t want them to be shit, do we?"

As she took a bite, he couldn't resist moving the fruit to the side stealing a kiss, tasting the rich chocolate directly on her lips. "Mmm." he hummed, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and pointing finger. "Almost as sweet as you- but you’re better." With a little smirk, he turned back to the counter to start the process again.

"These are basically foreplay, Y’know." he joked, dipping another strawberry and swirling it by the stem to get the excess dripped off as he leaned over to press a kiss to her neck, making her giggle. "I mean, chocolate-covered strawberries? Really?" He fanned himself dramatically, earning another laugh from her. "They're fucking dangerous..." He held another one out teasingly as she leaned forward. "Here sweets, open f’me again..." He fed it to her slowly, watching her lips close around the fruit. “See? It works for more than just my cock.”

“Har.” Y/N coughed, covering her mouth so the chewed up strawberry didn’t spray everywhere. “Can we be wholesome for once? This is a nice and calm activity.” She was teasing, but mostly didn’t want to get too far into it because then she would be miserable. It was very easy for him to work her up, but she had woken up with her period coming early.

"Alright, alright... if you insist. We'll be wholesome. Sorry, baby." He chuckled, wiping his hands clean on his half apron before taking another strawberry and dipping it carefully. "See? Wholesome Harry, feeding his sweet girlfriend strawberries... I can do it." He fed her another one, this time without any innuendo, simply enjoying the quiet moment with her.

She took the strawberry from him gently, her fingers brushing against his as she took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing before speaking without the fruit in her mouth. "Mmm... Milk is my favorite. I know dark is healthier but.." She shrugged, wiping a tiny drip of chocolate from her chin with her finger. "Thank you. I know that it’s inconvenient that I got my period on Valentine’s Day but I’ll make up for it when it’s over." She reassured him, feeding him a strawberry in return, trying to keep the moment light and sweet. He hadn’t made her feel bad about it at all when she had told him, but she was still a little disappointed. The cute outfit she had wanted to wear was wasted.

He bit into the strawberry she offered, his teeth sinking into the ripe fruit as he chewed thoughtfully. "Baby, y’don't need to make anything up to me." He insisted. That wasn’t what this was about. "This right here? It's perfect." He gestured between them with the hand holding the strawberry, a small smear of chocolate now adorning his finger. Thankfully she had reminded him to take the rings off before they’d gotten too deep into it or he would have a whole different mess. "Us, being goofy over strawberries? S’my kinda romance."

It was actually rather nice to have a lower key Valentine’s Day. The presents were still waiting to be opened and the new plan consisted of movies, making their snacks and relaxing. Simply being in each others presence. As much as he liked to make a big effort and do some grander gestures, it made him feel good that she truly craved his mere presence more than anything else.

“Today isn’t about sex. It’s about bein’ together and showing our love. M’just happy that I’m here with you doing something. I may tease you, because I definitely would do it… I don’t mind blood-“ The wrinkle of her nose made him snicker. “Hey, M’just saying it doesn’t bother me. But it does you, and I don’t want it if you aren’t very, very enthusiastic about it. Praise kink n’all of that.” It was a joke… kind of. He did have a praise kink, but he really didn’t give a shit if they had sex tonight.

Being able to eat and laugh with her was the best sort of night. When she had said she didn’t feel too well, he had no problem cancelling the reservation and changing from the stuffy outfit he’d been in to a pair of sweats and one of her graphic tee shirts to make homemade pizza and chocolate covered strawberries. Domestic stuff was something he loved, anyways. Y/N was the best thing he loved.

He brought his chocolate-smudged finger to her lips, pressing it gently against them and encouraging her to clean it off with a small kiss. She obliged, her soft lips brushing against his finger as she licked off the remaining chocolate. "Love you, angel." He murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Always."

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

You Had Me at...

He didn't know why he was even still awake.

No, that was a lie.

He knew exactly why, but he also knew it was stupid and silly and completely outside the realm of possibility. He just hadn't been able to help himself.

He'd stayed up and watched the clock, waited as the minutes ticked by until it was officially Valentine's Day, and held his breath...

And then nothing.

He'd huffed out a laugh, telling himself he was more embarrassed than disappointed because honestly, what had he expected?

Evan to show up at the door to declare his love? To want to get back together?

To want him?

That wasn't Tommy's life. That was fantasy. The stuff of romcoms, not the real world.

Reality was getting into his ratty pajama pants and an ancient, worn-soft LAFD t-shirt (that still had a B and a U and a half-peeled Y on the back) and accepting the fact that he was once again alone for this stupid, fake holiday...that he absolutely loved.

Sighing, he made his way out to the kitchen and dug around in his freezer until he found the pint of cookie dough ice cream that Evan had left there and Tommy had been avoiding for the past three months. What was the point of leaving it? Evan was never coming back. It wasn't like he'd be there to get mad at Tommy for eating it and why let it go to waste?

He stood there, staring at the ice cream.

His therapist would have plenty to say about him struggling to let himself have things, but that was a problem for Tuesday Tommy.

...screw it.

He was eating the ice cream.

Tommy snatched the container out of the freezer and set it down on the counter, ignoring its accusing stare as he grabbed a spoon out of the drawer.

"This is for the best," he muttered. "I'm putting us both out of our misery, okay? We can't wait forever. He's never coming back."

He tapped the spoon against the lid, frowning when a faint knock sounded back.

"What the fu-"

The knock again, louder this time and clearly coming from the front door.

Tommy set the spoon down beside the ice cream, grabbed his phone, and crept down the hallway toward the door. He was still debating calling 911 when he caught sight of a familiar silhouette through the window and his heart stopped.

He'd know those curls anywhere.

Evan startled, hand still raised when Tommy whipped open the door.

"Shit," he said, eyes going wide. "I mean, not sh-not that, I just...I wasn't expecting you to answer so quickly and I'm still kind of working on what I'm going to say..."

"...did you want me to close the door and give you a minute?" Tommy asked after another weighted beat passed between them. He'd stand back in the hallway for as long as it took. As long as Evan needed.

"No!" Evan jolted forward, hand flexing like he was ready to catch it - as if Tommy would willingly close a door between them ever again. "I..."

Tommy waited, drinking in the sight of Evan as he fidgeted on the front porch. He itched to tug the lip free that he was chewing on, but he was equally afraid to touch him.

He didn't think he could bear it if this turned out to be a dream.

"I watched them all," Evan blurted out suddenly. He rubbed at the back of his neck, cheeks going red. "All of the movies I could remember from your shelves. T-the romance ones? And then Maddie recommended some more."

Tommy didn't know what to make of that. "Why-"

"Because everyone said I wasn't allowed to bake anymore," Evan said, as though that was a sentence that would clear things up. "But I had to do something, right? To stop myself from calling you every second that I was awake."

Wait, what?

"And I figured, if I couldn't stop thinking about you, then at least, I could maybe get inside your head and try to understand where we went wrong - where I went wrong," Evan barreled on like he wasn't completely upending Tommy's brain. "I watched them all and in every single one, ever single one, the couple has a fight and b-breaks up because, well, for all kinds of reasons, but it was because they were always missing what was right in front of them."

Evan took a deep, steadying breath, bracing himself on the doorframe. "I said a lot of stuff that night, but I missed saying the most important thing of all. I felt it, felt it so much it felt too big to say, but that was a mistake." He looked up, meeting Tommy's gaze with bright eyes.

"I love you, Tommy. I love you. I'm sorry I did everything backwards and managed to leap ahead all at the same time." Evan shook his head, blinking back tears as Tommy fought to hold back his own.

"I'm sorry I ever made you doubt that what I feel for you is real," he said "The most real and right thing I think I've ever felt in my life and I don't want to lose you. The last few months have been...I felt like I was missing a part of myself. Like my heart has been out there in the world without me and I've hated every minute of it."

"Please," Evan said, searching Tommy's face, hope threaded through every letter. "I know we have a lot we need to talk about, but can we - can we try again?"

Tommy took a shaky breath, still half-convinced he was about to wake up and have all of this ripped away from him.

"Please say something," Evan whispered, his shaky plea finally snapping Tommy into action.

He reached out to cup Evan's cheek, stroking a thumb against his skin as he leaned in. "You had me at 'shit'," Tommy said, a helpless smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

Evan's mouth dropped open as Tommy's words sank in. Relief warred against an extreme pout as he poked at Tommy's chest. "Did you seriously just Jerry Maguire me? I can't even-"

The rest of his protest was cut off when Tommy yanked him inside the house for a searing kiss, kicking the door shut behind them.

"I love you too," Tommy murmured against Evan's lips as he pressed him into the wall. He tried to get the apology he'd been agonizing over for the last three months out between kisses. "I'm sorry I ran. I got scared and stupid and I want this. Want you. Want everything."

Evan groaned, grabbing at him as he gave back as good as he got, kissing every part of Tommy he could reach without letting him move an inch out of his arms.

"Stay," Tommy gasped when they finally broke apart for air. "Please stay and just sleep beside me and we can talk properly in the morning?" He wasn't prepared to let Evan out of his sight any time soon.

"Try and get rid of me," Evan said with a little laugh as he rested his forehead against Tommy's. They kissed once more, softly, knowing they had time now. Letting out a happy sigh, Evan dropped a tiny peck on the end of Tommy's nose before releasing him and moving toward the kitchen.

Tommy went to lock the door, freezing when Evan let out a garbled noise of outrage.

"Is this my ice cream?"

Biting back a grin, Tommy headed toward Evan and his continuing grumbles...

And let his grin actually spread when he rounded the corner to find Evan standing there, holding out a second spoon.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly V

~ part 5 of the Dolly series

pairing: yang jeongin x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

synopsis: always used to getting everything you want and spending as much money as you can; after a little night out with your girlfriends, in your drunken state you order an expensive sex doll. he likes to dress up, just like you do. what could go wrong?

wc: 8.5k

warnings: oral (m), masturbation, self-denial, self-ruined orgasm, cum eating, slight pain kink, sub!reader, reader is a little bratty, unprotected sex, creampies, a bit of degradation, choking, light bondage, spanking, edging, slapping

~ divider by @bunnysrph

With all the alcohol in your system, the loud music booming from the speakers and the warmth of the body dancing behind you, you celebrated, swaying your hips and grinding back into the nameless man who gripped your sides harder.

It was just another regular Saturday night for you; putting on an expensive dress and jewelry, doing your makeup, spending your evenings in fine restaurants with your girlfriends and your nights in prestigious clubs with all kinds of hot men you'd lead on and then leave.

You didn't have a care in the world. Anything you wanted, you got at the snap of your fingers, your father made sure of that, spoiling you rotten since you were his only daughter. You knew he had a soft spot for you and you weren't afraid to use that to your advantage.

"You wanna go somewhere more quiet?" the man whispered in your ear and you turned around, feigning disappointment and putting your sweet voice on.

"I'm sorry darlin', but I have to go now. It's been a pleasure dancing with you, though." you gave him a quick peck on the lips, just enough for him to taste your cherry lipgloss for a split second.

Before he could even answer, you slid away, disappearing from his eyesight between all the dancing bodies as you looked for your friends.

"Are you leaving, y/n?" you found Crystal by the bar. "The night is still young."

"I already texted Benjamin. He's on his way here." you giggled, swaying a little and she chuckled, grabbing your wrist, her manicured nails grazing your skin.

"Girlie, are you drunk?" she laughed.

"Just a little." you laughed with her, usually you weren't a lightweight, in fact you were the one carrying Crystal outside and holding her hair while she throws up. "I mixed up a few different drinks."

"Want me to wait out there with you?" she asked and you shook your head, making the room spin a little.

"Benji already arrived." you said but she still insisted on walking you to the car.

A sleek black limo waited for you, your family driver Benjamin rolled the window down before stepping out with a knowing smirk.

"You okay, miss?" he asked, opening the door for you.

"Perfect." you said, even though the fresh air made you even more dizzy than the stuffy club.

He shrugged as you plopped down in the seat, waving to Crystal who decided to stay a bit more with two of your other friends. Your stomach was churning a little as the vehicle started moving but Benjamin didn't bug you about it. He knew how you were, everyone did except your father who turned a blind eye to anything 'bad' you did. You are his perfect little angel who can do no wrong, so your driver bit his tongue more often than not.

You were home in no time, escorted right to the door. It was pretty late so the house was dark and quiet as you made your way upstairs, bumping into furniture and tripping over stairs, cursing quietly. Your room was huge, a queen sized bed with a canopy above it and a spacious walk in closet, your own bathroom and balcony where you'd often lay down and tan when it's sunny.

You kicked your heels off and walked to your big mirror, checking yourself out. You didn't look drunk though the room was still spinning just a little. You realized your phone turned off so you walked over to your desk and turned your laptop on, checking out who saw your insta stories from the fun night out. You left it open as you took it to your vanity, sitting down and taking off your diamond earrings.

The stories kept rolling and an ad came on between them right as you looked at the screen.

"What? Sex dolls?" you chuckled. Feeling intrigued, you clicked on it. It took you to a site with eight human looking dolls, all of them a 10 in your eyes. "I want them all." you whined, noticing some of them were already sold.

"Not fair." you pouted as you scrolled, stopping when you got to 'Jeongin, the fashion doll'.

"Oooh, fashion huh? I like you." you giggled, clicking on the purchase button without even looking at the price. After putting your info in, a message popped up. 'Thank you for purchasing our fashion doll! We hope you have fun dressing him up!', with a little winky face emoji added at the end.

You chuckled, closing your laptop and forgetting all about it as you got ready for bed and fell face down into your soft pillows, drifting off immediately.

Exactly a week later, when you got home after your beauty day which included a trip to the spa, a manicure and pedicure and of course some shopping, you almost jumped out of your skin, tripping over a huge box in your room.

"What the fuck is this?!" you gasped, and immediately your security guard, Jack, ran in, his hand already on the holster.

"What's wrong, miss?" he looked around before noticing the huge box and another suitcase next to it.

"It had your name on it. Benjamin and I brought it up together, I-I thought you had ordered something like- like always." he said cautiously.

Something rang in your mind.

"Oh. I did. You can leave now." you said, your face heating up. The man nodded shortly before retreating back outside.

You slammed and locked the door, letting out a breath of relief. You completely forgot about ordering a literal human sized doll. And now here he was, in the box. At least you hoped he was in the box, not in the suitcase because you did not want to spend your afternoon putting doll parts together, in your head it was too morbid and too much work.

You put your bags on the floor before cautiously walking over to the box. Taking a deep breath in, you opened it up and gasped. Your doll was even more handsome than what you vaguely remembered from that night.

Hello,

my name is Jeongin (or Innie) and I am your fashion dolly.

I love to dress up and take pictures, especially with you. I like seeing new places and doing new things so I hope you'll take me out on lots of dates.

Please treat me well always, even though I seem cool I can be sensitive so don't forget to hold my hand.

Hope you'll come to love me as much as I love you.

Obviously, someone put a lot of thought into this doll, you noted after reading the letter and looking more closely at his face. His eyes seemed warm and it looked like he was smiling just a little, a shy dimple on his cheek. He looked so cute. You checked out his outfit, satisfied with what they put him in and you noticed another little paper in his jeans pocket. You took it out and read it.

My princess!

I chose this outfit for our first adventure together.

Hope you enjoy me as much as I will enjoy you.

Princess. How fitting, you thought as you giggled.

You turned your attention to the suitcase, deciding to open it up before doing anything else. When you did, a gasp left your lips. It was filled with clothes and jewelry for the doll.

"I could make myself a dress out of this." you picked up one of the shirts, inspecting it. The clothes smelled like fresh fabric softener and they felt pretty expensive. You turned to look at the doll again. How much did you even pay for him?

You didn't care. All you cared about was taking the doll out of the box but that proved to be a bigger task than you first thought. You tried picking him up but since you weren't keen on working out, it was impossible to move him.

You groaned and grunted, your heels almost sliding on the polished wood as you pulled your Jeongin dolly by the wrists. That was the last trick you had up your sleeve.

"For fucks sake! I can't even move you properly. I don't know how much money I spent on you but you better wake up and move by yourself 'cause I'm not breaking my nails!" you stomped your foot in annoyance but the dolly stayed still.

"Do you have a button somewhere?" you started rummaging on his body, it felt like he was heating up the more you touched him. You retracted your hands and studied his face for a moment.

"Ugh." you unlocked and opened your door, finding Jack in the hallway. "Can you come help me?" you batted your eyelashes sweetly.

"Sure thing, miss." Jack nodded and followed you to your room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Jeongin, but then he sighed, probably not even surprised by the things rich people spend money on.

"Is that alive?" he asked and you barked out a laugh.

"I don't think so. Look, I need you to move him to that chair." you pointed to your gaming chair. Since it had wheels, your thought process was that it'd be easier to roll around the doll than to carry it.

"Okay." the security guard nodded and lifted Jeongin up as if he weighed nothing. He placed him where you ordered. "Anything else, miss?"

"Get that box out of my room, I hate trash." you said, completely skipping that the manual for the doll was inside the box.

After Jack left, you locked the door again.

"Now, it's just you and me, dolly." you said, taking your heels off before you stalked towards Jeongin. Your palms rested on the chair as you leaned in closer, observing the doll. He smelled so good, so intoxicating. Your nose brushed against his cheek before you leaned back.

"Well let's see what I paid for." you nodded to yourself, stripping the doll out of his jacket with a bit of a struggle.

"Motherfucker." you cursed, throwing the jacket behind you. "If I could just find a button and turn you on, you'd do this by yourself." you frowned, gripping his shirt and struggling again.

Briefly, you thought about calling Jack back in but you quickly dismissed it, thinking how weird it would be to ask your security guard to strip your sex doll naked. Suddenly, you had another thought.

Isn't there supposed to be a manual?

The box. The stupid box. You quickly ran out of your room, looking for Jack and finding him downstairs.

"Where's the box?" you asked breathlessly.

"Box?"

"Yes, the one I told you to throw out."

"Ah, it's in the trash."

Your eyes narrowed. Jack gulped. His palms got clammy.

A minute later, Jack became a victim as he dug through the dumpster to find the manual.

"Found it yet?" you yelled at his body, half submerged in trash.

"Almost there." he gagged a little and you made a disgusted face as he finally pulled it out.

"Found it." the poor security guard looked defeated, probably repeating the amount of money he'll be paid by the beginning of next month.

"Great. You're a champ." you sprayed a little bit of disinfectant before pinching the manual between your fingers and looking through it. You skimmed quickly, frowning when you found nothing about a button that makes the doll come to life.

"Well, this sucks." you sighed, tossing the manual back into the dumpster as Jack rolled his hands into fists. 'Paycheck is coming soon. Paycheck is coming soon.', Jack chanted in his mind.

You were already back to Jeongin, deciding to just strip him completely and then think of what to do next. His shoes and socks came off quicker than the previous garments, his pants gave you another struggle but you managed to take them off somehow. Your face heated up when you noticed the bulge in his boxers.

Even though you kissed a lot of men, you never went further with them. You liked to tease and feel like you were the one who has the upperhand, when in reality you just needed someone who knew how to take care of your needs. None of the men you met gave you the impression they could handle you. Your ex boyfriend thought he could but he was way in over his head so you dumped him and moved on.

Taking a deep breath in, you finally took the last piece of clothing off.

"Oh." your Innie dolly is hung. "Well, that was definitely worth paying for." you snickered.

Your face started heating up the more you stared at it, biting on your lip and debating if you should just touch him.

"Miss y/n! Lunch is ready!" you heard the housekeeper yell.

"Coming!" you yelled back, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over Jeongin's naked body. You slipped your dress off before grabbing a more comfortable shirt and shorts, all under the watchful eye of the doll. You didn't mind that he was there because he is just a thing. And things can't come to life, can they?

You shrugged and went downstairs to eat lunch with your father.

"How was your outing, sweetheart?" he asked as the two of you ate, the sounds of utensils clattering and scraping against the plates was like a cacophony disturbing the peaceful classical music in the background.

You briefly glanced at the empty chair your mother used to occupy.

"It was fun. How was work?"

"As usual." his tone was flat. "You need to come in tomorrow, at least for four or five hours."

Right. You were an intern at your father's company, more so you were learning from him so you could take over the empire one day. It bored you to death to sit in an office full of people with sullen faces and serious suits, flipping papers and typing on the computer. You hated it but you had no other choice since you're an only child, everything naturally belongs to you.

You didn't say anything, just glanced towards the empty chair again.

-

When you got back to your room, you almost shrieked but quickly covered your mouth so you don't alarm Jack. You definitely didn't want him to come in and see this.

You turned the key in the door, checking twice if it was locked properly as your heart started beating fast. You turned to look at your dolly in disbelief. The blanket you had carefully covered him up with was on the floor, pooling by his feet. But what captured your attention was his cock, hard and red, standing proudly and taunting you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times.

Why did the dolly get aroused all by itself? You gulped as you observed him but his chest wasn't moving, in fact he looked kind of like a statue. A beautiful, perfect greek statue.

Your legs pressed together. The sight of his leaking cock made your insides stir. But at the same time, it felt weird. You tried to rationalize it in your head, he is a doll, he's not alive and he was made to be used and maybe it just got hard on its own sometimes. Hell, you didn't really know or care about the technology behind it.

All you knew is that something pulled you to him. So you slowly made your way towards Jeongin, hesitating just for another moment before you gently placed your hand on his thigh. Fingertips brushed his soft skin and you gasped at how warm he felt. You slowly slid your hand up towards his core, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing member and dipping your thumb into his slit experimentally.

An overwhelming thought of tasting him crossed your mind. So you slipped your thumb into your mouth, licking at the pre-cum that you had gathered on it. A muffled moan escaped your lips, he tasted so sweet that you couldn't believe it.

You slid down to your knees, nails digging into his thighs a little before you adjusted his legs so you can move comfortably between them. You didn't even do this for your ex, only once and it wasn't too fun. But you were so curious, and the doll was here, yours. And you had the upperhand.

Your tongue caught a drop of pre-cum as you stuck it to the underside of his tip before you started swirling all around it. Your eyes fluttered as you lightly sucked on the head, milking the pre-cum out of it and swallowing the sweet taste, something akin to vanilla. Your senses heightened as you sucked lazily, sliding down on him just a little more, your hand wrapped around his base and the other pushing your shorts down.

You had on your lacy underwear that barely concealed anything and it was already damp with your arousal. You slid the pads of your fingertips over your clit down to your wetness before coming back up to your sensitive nub. You didn't move your underwear in favor of teasing yourself. You loved it so much, the torture of it, the denial of it as you slowly circled your clit teasingly.

A whimper left your lips as your fingertips grazed against Jeongin's balls, your mouth sliding down further while you drooled around his cock. He twitched inside you so you cupped his balls, massaging them while you kept sucking on him faster, making yourself gag when his fat tip hit the back of your throat.

Your pussy was throbbing and clenching as you ran your fingers over your clit and folds haphazardly, only making yourself more wet and keeping yourself on the edge. You needed more, your hips grinding against your hand desperately as you moaned around Jeongin's cock. You wondered how long it will take for the doll to cum, noting that you read something about his balls being extra sensitive in the manual. But you were too embarrassed to read that in front of Jack even though he wasn't even looking at the manual, in his mind he was in Hawaii with his wife, and not rummaging through a dumpster of a stuck up rich girl.

This is not the time to think about your security guard, not when you're choking on Jeongin's cock. You focused on the dark on hand, squeezing his balls more as you sucked harder, your eyes fluttering shut as you pressed on your clit.

Suddenly, he twitched when you gripped him harder, your pussy clenching almost painfully as you were close to release. Your eyes opened up and you looked at him, his beauty, and you moaned around his length before you felt spurts of hot cum hit the back of your throat.

You choked a little, almost cumming yourself but you pressed your fingers on your folds, pushing the lacy fabric inside your wetness as you swallowed Jeongin's cum. You suckled until you were sure he was empty, sliding off of his now limp cock. You slumped against his thigh, puffing and panting as you enjoyed the feeling of ruining your own orgasm, your pussy swollen and wet, begging to be touched but you ignored it, instead you left kisses on Jeongin's soft thighs.

You got up when your breathing got even, grabbing the blanket and covering him up again, your hand tucking away a few strands of his hair and squeezing his hand.

"Sleep well, my pretty doll."

It was fun, having a human sized doll in your room. The last few days, whenever you weren't at your father's office or out, you'd play with Jeongin.

Dressing him up was a tedious task but still you wanted to try out all the pretty outfits they had sent together with the doll. One of the outfits added in a crop top, his toned muscles on display for you to touch. You smirked, getting an idea and running on your tippy toes to your walk-in closet.

Earlier, you had called in Jack to put Jeongin on your bed which the security guard did, without asking any questions but you could see him rolling his eyes. You didn't care though, you were home alone (except for the staff) and you wanted to have a good time before going out later.

You had put some music on, turning the volume all the way up as Madonna's Material Girl started playing, the speakers booming loudly in the big house, making Jack sigh in annoyance. Paying off debts, he thought. Just a bit more, he nodded to himself.

Inside your room, your mood went up as you sang along, you were a pretty good singer and usually the star of karaoke night so it was enjoyable to listen to you. You started moving along to the music as you rummaged through your clothes, the led lights installed in the shelves illuminated all the pretty colors and shiny glitter of your expensive collection. Your doll's eyes lit up but you were too busy looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to pick out the perfect dress for tonight.

One of them caught your eye the most; it was a brand new dress you haven't had the chance to take out yet, black with pretty glitter patterns and slits strategically placed to show skin on your cleavage and then also on your sides. You shrugged and stepped out of your pjs to put on the dress, deciding not to wear a bra under it.

"Damn." you spun around in the mirror with a smirk. "What do you think, Innie?" you asked your dolly as you made your way towards him. He looked as if he was blushing, his cute cheeks rosy.

"I think you like it." you giggled, covering your lips.

You kept dancing and swaying your hips, singing along as Jeongin's eyes followed you, it was almost unnoticeable as they moved ever so slowly.

You sat down in front of your mirror to put some make up on and in the reflection, you thought you saw Jeongin's head move a little. Quickly, you turned to look at him with a gasp but he was quiet and still. You felt a shiver run down your spine, an unnerving feeling appearing in your stomach.

"I'm crazy." you chuckled and turned back to your mirror so you could continue getting ready, glancing at your dolly every so often.

After you were done, you decided to take a fun little picture. Smirking, you grabbed your phone and made your way to your bed. You sat down next to Jeongin, making yourself comfortable as you put one leg over him, your dress riding up and exposing your thigh. You put his arm around you, making it look like he was holding you and then put your arm around his shoulders. You took a few selfies before choosing your favorite and then you posted it on insta with the caption 'bf'.

It didn't take long for the comments to start flooding in, he looked like a real person in the picture. You laughed in delight as you sat between your dollies legs and read all the reactions. Your closest friends knew you were just messing around as you have told them about purchasing the doll but other naive acquaintances really thought Jeongin was your boyfriend, a living human being.

You finally got up after some time and when you looked at your pretty dolly, you noticed a prominent bulge in his pants.

"You like my dress so much?" you giggled, shaking your head. You still had some time before your friends arrived to pick you up.

"Now, what do I do with you?" you sighed, wishing he was alive so he could take care of you properly, do all the things you fantasize about and touch yourself to. You wished he'd take control over you, treat you like you were the doll and not him.

You had no choice though so you decided to make the best of it and slowly slid his pants down. You didn't bother putting any underwear on him earlier so his cock sprung out, slapping against his abs deliciously. With a quiet giggle, you pushed your panties aside and hovered over him. He was already oozing pre-cum and you gathered it on your fingers, bringing them to your clit.

A moan left your lips as you smeared the liquid on your pussy, getting yourself wet and even more turned on. Your other hand roamed on his abs, down to his cock as you played with it. Wrapping your fingers around him, you scooted closer and ran his tip on your throbbing core.

"Mm. You're so big." you whimpered as you pushed his tip between your slick folds slowly, your tight pussy barely taking him in. You closed your eyes, fantasizing about Jeongin tying you up and pushing it in all in one go to make you take it, use you just for his pleasure and you whimpered, spreading your pussy with your hands and forcing yourself down on his length. You gasped, struggling and tearing up as you took all of him in, taking a moment to adjust.

You gripped at his shoulders and slowly started fucking on him. Your quiet whimpers filled up the space along with the slick sounds of your wet pussy as you clenched around him. Jeongin's cock twitched and throbbed inside you and you dug your nails into him, moving faster. The pain you felt melted into pleasure the more you took him in and the harder you slapped your hips on his.

You felt so close, your orgasm building up and right before you reached that high you slid off of him, stopping yourself and plopping down into his chest as you breathed hard. Clutching at his arms, you buried your face in Jeongin's neck and started kissing his soft skin.

"Come to life, please." you whined as you dragged your sensitive pussy over his hard length. His tip slipped in and you pushed down, taking him in again and moving on top of him. You angled your hips right on accident, a moan ripping out of you as his tip pressed right into your sweet spot. You whined loudly as you fucked on him desperately, chasing that feeling again and again.

On the brink of your high, you had stopped again, clenching around him.

"Fuck." you gasped as you phone started ringing.

You reached for it blindly as you held onto Jeongin.

"Hello?"

"Girl, we're here." it was Crystal and you groaned on accident.

"Having fun with your boyfriend?" she snickered, and you could hear your friends chuckling along in the background.

"Always." you smirked, still a little breathless. "I'll be down in a sec." you added and hung up before she could answer.

You weren't gonna be down in a second and they knew it. You didn't care though, you wanted Jeongin to cum. So you slid off of him and grabbed his cock with one hand and put the other on his sensitive balls. You jerked him off skilfully, twisting your hand at the top and massaging his balls, pulling on them just a little. When you felt him twitch you quickly buried his tip into your pussy, feeling him cum inside you and against your warmth as it slipped out, making a mess.

"Ugh, sorry." you whispered to no one in particular as you brought your fingers down and pushed his cum back inside, pulling your panties over your core. You licked the rest off your fingers before quickly cleaning Jeongin up and covering his lower region with your blanket.

"I'll be back, pretty dolly." you squeezed and kissed his hand with a smirk.

-

Though you were tipsy and there was a hot man grinding on you, you couldn't stop thinking about your dolly. God, were you horny.

You imagined that the guy behind you was Jeongin so you let him grope your ass. You didn't mind as he held you against him possessively, you just wished it was your dolly. Your beautiful dolly.

You leaned your head back on the man's shoulder as you closed your eyes and bit on your lip. He took that as an invitation, his lips brushing against your neck before he left kisses on your heated skin. In the darkness, no one saw or cared when he put his hand under your dress and touched your wet cunt. You never went so far with a random man but something about imagining it being your doll made you relax when he pushed his fingers inside you. You felt so dirty, letting a stranger finger you in a club, when you had no idea what his name was or even looked at his face long enough to remember what he looked like. But in your mind he was Jeongin and that was enough.

As always, before you could cum, a kind of clarity washed over you and you tore away from the man abruptly, startling him a little.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?" he seemed concerned and sweet.

"Fine. I just have to go. Sorry, love." you gave him a smile and a peck before running off.

You felt diabolical.

And it felt so good.

It became a routine. Dressing Jeongin up, stripping him down and playing with him. It's been one month since your dolly arrived, observing your daily movements as you went out often, coming back either tipsy or with a new manicure and shopping bags.

Saturdays were reserved for parties as always but lately they excited you less and less. Even the new clothes you bought felt somewhat disappointing. You couldn't pinpoint what exactly was making you feel so disgruntled, until you realized you were thinking about Jeongin all the time.

You wondered how his voice would sound, his laugh. How it would feel when he hugged you. How his lips would move against yours. How he'd make love to you. Were you falling in love with a doll?

You wished he was human. It angered you that he wasn't so one day, you picked him up, accidentally knocking his arm against your nightstand.

"Sorry." you muttered as your eyes teared up. He was too heavy. You dropped him on the floor on accident, a loud thud echoing off of the walls.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" you panicked. Why are you apologizing, it's a thing - you thought to yourself.

You had no other choice but to grip his wrists and pull him towards your closet where you left him in a corner, like any other toy you got sick of playing with.

It's time to find a real man.

-

Darkness. Jeongin took a desperate breath as he clawed at his throat. No matter how many times he blinked, all he saw was darkness. In a state of panic he crawled on the floor, his hands touching the soft carpet underneath him, searching for any kind of switch, any source of light.

"Ow." Jeongin muttered when his head collided with something sturdy.

He touched around it and realized it was a shelf with clothes, the fabrics expensive and soft as he ran his fingertips on them. They all smelled like you.

Why have you left him? Why don't you want to play with him anymore? He thought you liked him. At least it seemed so ever since the day you got him. Finally his hand found a switch and when it turned on, he was almost blinded by all the shine and colors.

You left him in your closet. Jeongin stood up on wobbly legs and opened the door that lead to your room. He saw a water bottle on your vanity and quickly grabbed it, chugging all of it down. He knew where you kept a stash of snacks, next to your bed in a shelf, so he sat on the mattress and ate everything you had. His stomach still growled, he was starving.

When are you coming back?, Jeongin thought.

-

Two weeks had passed since you left Jeongin in your closet, and even though he wasn't even real, no other man excited you like he did. You wondered how that was possible since he was just a doll, an object.

Maybe you were crazy, who knows?

Shaking your thoughts off, you walked into your room, darkness enveloping all your favorite things. But before you could reach for the switch an arm wrapped around your middle, a hand pressed against your lips as you tried to scream.

You kicked your legs as your eyes widened in fear.

"It's me, Jeongin. Your dolly. It's okay, don't be afraid." you heard a sweet voice in your ear and you frowned, repeating his name but it was muffled behind his hand.

"Please don't scream or hit me." he said and you nodded as he let you go and flipped the switch on at the same time. You turned around and backed away, a gasp escaping your lips as he stood in front of you.

"W-what? Am I- Is this a hallucination?" you blinked.

"No, I'm here."

"How is that possible?" your lips trembled.

"I - I could hear you, see you and feel you the entire time. I answered in my head and willed myself to talk but I couldn't, not without breaking out of my state." he explained and you stared at him for a moment.

Tears of frustration built up in your eyes and you slapped your hand on his chest.

"Why did it take you so long? Why? Why?" you cried as you kept hitting him and Jeongin grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer.

You went quiet immediately as he looked at you.

"I'm here now."

"You're real." you smiled after a moment.

"I'm real." he whispered with a smile, his dimple making an appearance and making you melt against him.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked and you nodded slowly.

Jeongin leaned in and pressed his lips sweetly on yours.

He tasted so good. Jeongin. Your Jeongin. Your dolly was alive.

You threw your arms around him, holding him tightly and he returned the hug, gripping you and pushing you up against his warm body.

You stayed like that for a moment, Jeongin reveling in the fact that he can finally hold you, touch you, feel you like he wanted to. And you were estatic that your wish came true.

"You remember everything I said or did?" you gulped as you face burned.

"Yeah." he smirked and you whined, burying your face in his neck. "It's okay, princess. I'll take care of you." he whispered with a kiss to your head.

"You will?" you looked up at him and he nodded.

"But first, I really need to eat a proper meal. I - um ate all your snacks." he grimaced and you gasped, smacking his arm.

"My stash is gone! Ugh, fine, I'll ask Donna to cook something for us." you grabbed his wrist, dragging him towards the door.

"Wait! What about your dad?" Jeongin asked.

"He's on a business trip anyways. I don't have to explain anything to him." you shrugged and led him downstairs.

Jack's eyes widened when he saw the doll that came in a box alive and he was alarmed instantly but you were quick to dismiss him. Donna didn't ask any questions, just prepared a tasty meal for the two of you.

"So, do you remember anything from before you got here?" you asked.

Jeongin pursed his lips and furrowed his brows, staring into the bowl of rice before him.

"I can't... I can't remember." his frown deepened.

"Nothing?"

"Not a thing." he shook his head.

"You don't remember the other dolls?"

"No." Jeongin shook his head again.

You grabbed your phone and pulled up the site, showing him the rest of the collection.

"I have no recollection of them." he said in a frustrated tone, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I've never seen them in my life."

"That's strange." you shrugged. "Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

"No and honestly," he paused. "I don't know if I want to remember. All I want is to be with you."

You smiled, putting your phone aside and cradling his cheek in your palm.

"Me too."

-

After the delicious dinner, you led Jeongin back up to your room. It was him who locked the door this time as you approached your vanity to take your jewelry off.

"I have one question, princess." Jeongin stood behind you, and your eyes shifted to look at his.

"Yeah?" you gulped at his intense gaze.

"Why did you leave me in the closet?" he asked.

Your necklace almost slipped out of your hands before you turned to look at him.

"I was sad that you weren't coming to life." you said.

"So, you abandoned me?" he said, his eyes darkened but a little smirk started playing on his lips.

"I didn't- I didn't mean to. I swear I would've-"

"Shh, princess. I get it. I know exactly what you need." Jeongin stepped closer to you, his body hovering over yours as you backed up into the vanity, making it clatter.

"Y-you do?" your eyes fluttered.

"Remember I heard and saw everything. The fantasies you described to your friends. What you did to me. To yourself." his smirk grew wider. "Do I have your permission, doll?"

Your knees almost buckled right then and there. Your dolly came to life and called you his doll.

How ironically sexy.

"Yes." you said quietly and he let out a breathless chuckle as he leaned in closer to you. His strong arm encircled your waist, his free hand sliding up on your body to your neck as he wrapped his fingers around you. Your breath got stuck in your throat as he held you in place like that.

Jeongin pushed his thigh between your legs roughly, pulling them apart and pressing against your heated core, making your dress ride up. You whimpered, eyes wide in surprise and he squeezed your neck a little.

"You always act like a desperate little slut. Don't be shy now." he said lowly and you gasped, your hips moving almost automatically as you started grinding against Jeongin's thigh. He flexed the muscle as he squeezed your neck harder, cutting off you air supply while looking you right in the eyes. You gripped at the vanity, your pussy gushing with arousal as Jeongin manhandled you.

He released your neck at just the right time and you gasped, taking a deep breath as he removed his leg.

"W-why?" you whimpered, looking at his thigh and he chuckled darkly.

"I thought you liked being edged and denied." he smirked.

"I- I do." you licked your lips. You were finally getting exactly what you always wanted.

"I think you deserve to be punished for leaving me in the closet." Jeongin stated, his large hands sliding your dress up just a little.

"Mhm, I think so too." you said, your heart beating fast and pussy clenching in excitement.

Swiftly, Jeongin turned you around and pushed your upper body on top of the vanity. You gasped, wiggling a little as he looked at your barely covered ass in the dress. The first slap came unexpectedly over the fabric, only the tips of his fingers making contact with your soft skin. You whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly.

"I think that's not enough." Jeongin shook his head before pushing your dress up, leaving you exposed in your little thongs.

"Tsk. Walking around dressed like a whore." he smirked, landing a strong smack on your ass.

"Ah!" you whimpered and jolted, your nails digging into the wood underneath you.

"Bad girl." Jeongin whispered before landing a series of smacks to your flesh.

"Fuck." you whimpered, wiggling your ass a little.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" Jeongin asked, smacking your ass again and you moaned, opening your eyes and looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Well, are you?" he gave you a few more hard smacks.

"I am! I am!" you whined as Jeongin massaged your already sore asscheeks.

"Then it's not really punishment, is it?" he smirked, his palm colliding with your heated skin again.

"Mm. Do it harder." you groaned.

"Harder? Are you sure?" he asked, pinching your flesh a little and making you moan as your arousal soaked your little panties.

"Yes, I'm sure, please punish me Innie." you whimpered and he started smacking you harder, without even stopping for a moment to give you time to breathe. You moaned and gasped, grabbing desperately at your vanity as your legs trembled, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. Jeongin held you down, his hand splayed on your upper back.

"M-more." you cried.

Jeongin smirked and stopped, making you whine loudly.

"Shut up." he said before giving your pussy a hard slap.

"Ah!" your eyes widened as you almost came. "S-stop."

"Hm? What's wrong?" he leaned over you with a little smirk.

"I don't - don't wanna cum yet."

"Oh you won't, don't worry." he chuckled lowly before lifting you up. Your knees buckled a little, the throbbing pain on your abused backside made you so horny that you wanted to cry.

"Get on your knees, doll." Jeongin ordered, his fingers tangling in your hair and you obeyed without questions. He thought you looked so adorable with your innocent eyes and pouty lips, so ready to do what he says, to please him.

He took his pants off, grabbing his hard cock and stepping closer to you. A wave of excitement ran through your body, your mouth watering.

"Open up." he smirked at your already fucked out state.

You decided to be a little bad. So you pressed your lips together and shook your head 'no'.

"No?" Jeongin raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head again, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Are you being disobedient?" he asked and you giggled before shutting your mouth again.

Jeongin wasn't having it, his hand came up to grip your hair as he brought your face closer, slapping your cheek with his hard cock.

"Do as I say." he growled and you whimpered quietly but still disobeyed.

"You made me do this." he said, pinching your nose and you tried to take it but you had to open your mouth to breathe at some point. He took that chance to push his cock inside you, releasing your nose at the same time so you could breathe.

You choked a little but still took it, your hands curled behind your back as Jeongin gripped your hair and started fucking into you. You moaned and gagged around him as he snapped his hips into you mercilessly, pushing deeper in with every thrust.

"You love having your dirty mouth used like this, don't you princess?" he smirked at you as you cried and drooled around him.

"I asked you a question." he slapped your cheek lightly with his fingers and you moaned around him, gagging as he pushed in deeply.

"I know you do." Jeongin whispered and pulled out abruptly, making you gasp for air.

Before you could come to your senses, your vision still blurred from the tears, you shrieked as you realized you were being lifted up. Jeongin threw you on the bed, stripping you out of your dress.

You were in a daze, never this turned on in your life as he took off your panties and stuffed them into your mouth, making you whimper.

"It's your turn to be my doll." Jeongin snickered, grabbing his belt and tying your hands up to the headboard. You arched your body as you spread your legs, begging to be touched.

"You want me to use you for my pleasure?" Jeongin asked and you nodded frantically, your whimpers muffled by your panties as you tasted yourself.

"I'll use you like the toy you are." he said, pressing his cock against your folds and gathering the wetness before he pushed it into your tight pussy, making your eyes roll back as you cried. It hurt so good as he bottomed out, your pussy clenching around his length and sucking him in.

Your cries were muffled by the lacy fabric in your mouth as Jeongin started pounding his hips into yours.

"No cumming unless I say so." he hovered over you, his cock splitting you apart deliciously as his hands squeezed your breasts. You lost yourself in the pleasure of being fucked so fervently by him that you almost came. Your eyes shut tightly as you willed yourself to hold it in but it was so hard as Jeongin pressed right into your sweet spot every single thrust. Tears of frustration spilled out of your eyes as you clenched.

"Look at me while I fuck you." he said, slapping you lightly. Your eyes snapped open and you looked into his darkened ones.

"Good girl." he praised you, making your insides spin. "Now, take my cum." he added as he squeezed your hips and fucked into you with even more vigor.

You moaned pathetically around your gag, your hands squeezed into fists as you held your orgasm back. You felt like your insides would burst with how much you needed to cum.

You felt Jeongin's hot cum fill you up and your eyes rolled back, having no more control over it, you came with him as he moaned loudly, fucking his seed deep into you.

Your body trembled as you cried and he quickly pulled the makeshift gag out of your mouth.

"You okay?" he asked breathlessly.

"Water, please." you whimpered and Jeongin untied your hands before grabbing a bottle of water as you sat up.

"So, was that exactly how you wanted it?" he asked.

"Mhm. But you shouldn't have let me cum at the end." you smirked and he chuckled.

"I'll punish you for that next time." he smirked before leaning in to kiss you as you reached for his hand.

"I really am sorry I put you in the closet." you whispered against his lips and then kissed his dimples when he smiled at you.

"It's okay, I forgive you." Jeongin kissed your forehead.

"Just so you know. You're my boyfriend now." you giggled and Jeongin laughed, giving you another kiss.

You had to come up with a cover up for your father. You had bribed Jack to stay quiet as your first move and then you and Jeongin made up some story about him being your boyfriend who came to visit you from another city so that's why he had to stay with you. Your father eyed Jeongin suspiciously, asking him a few questions about his parents and what college he went to, and after some lies that you both practiced before, he gave Jeongin a pat on the shoulder.

"Treat her well, son." your father's eyes narrowed. It was not just a statement, it was a threat.

Jeongin gulped and nodded. "Of course, sir."

Your father nodded curtly before leaving to his office.

"Phew, that was close." you giggled, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

"I'm sweating bullets." Jeongin shivered and you laughed, throwing your head back. You were finally happy.

-

Your days were filled with Jeongin. Your shopping mall visits became visits to the cinema, your fancy restaurants became the places where you'd take him out on dates, your nights out in clubs were replaced with nights in, dancing in your room with your precious dolly.

You took him out to play golf with your father and Jack, to your country club, even to a little trip to one of your favorite resorts.

Your days were beautiful. Your nights, however, were something completely different.

A long white corridor. Distant muffled voices. A ringing in Jeongin's ear. Gloved hands grabbing at him and wheeling him off into a huge room with tall ceilings. The sound of whirring and the sight of the shiny androids working on top of him. He couldn't move or speak.

"Try the left side again." a painful prod at his side.

"He's unresponsive."

"Type this in." sounds of a keyboard clacking.

"It's like his vitals are lighting up but there's a bug somewhere."

"I know there's a bug! Let's get the other one. He seemed to respond to him better than us."

Jeongin couldn't see who the voices belonged to. Silence. The door clicked open. Then footsteps.

His angel appeared by his bedside.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he spoke in a deep, warm voice, a sunny smile gracing his freckled face.

"Look! It's happening now. He can hear him. Keep talking to him, number six."

"Just listen to my voice." the angel spoke again. "I'm here. I'll always be here." it echoed.

The room started spinning and turned into a cozy office. Gone was the angel and the androids. Jeongin was sitting in a nice leather chair, his body free of pain. He looked up, almost blinded by the sunlight coming from the window, when she appeared, her soft features comforting.

"Don't worry, Innie." the older woman said, coughing a little. "I won't let them hurt you." she said, but her voice was weak and her hands trembled.

"Mother?"

Jeongin sat up with a gasp, his body drenched in sweat, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Innie?" you whispered, alarmed as you sat up too, your hand grabbing his. "Another nightmare?"

"I think these things happened to me." he said, breathing hard as he panicked.

"Oh?" you urged him on and he told you the entire dream.

"Wait. What did you say this 'angel' looked like?"

"Blonde. Freckles. Plump lips."

"Is this him?" you quickly picked your phone up, showing him the dolls he couldn't recognize before.

"That... yes, but he looks a little different there."

"Different how?" you asked.

"Like... More finished?"

You shivered. What the hell were they? And who made them? Most importantly, why?

"That's Felix. He's another doll like you."

"They called him number six. They called me number eight. But the woman at the end of the dream, she called me Innie." he gulped.

"I wish I could buy Felix so we could ask him what he remembers. But he is already sold out." you sighed. "Do you remember any of the other dolls? Did you dream about them?"

"No... I can't... I can't remember them." Jeongin shook his head. He was getting visibly upset.

"Hey, hey, Innie it's okay. Drink some water, yeah?" After he gulped down on the cool liquid, you pulled him into your arms.

"Let's sleep. We'll get to the bottom of this. Me and you." you pecked his lips as he searched your face.

But the next day, as you opened your eyes, your dolly was gone. You searched frantically for him, asking everyone in the house if they saw him leave but nobody did.

With tears blurring your vision, you found a note stuck next to your pillow.

'I'm sorry, I had to find out.'

Jeongin stood in front of the familiar building that loomed above him threateningly. How did he remember where to go? He had no idea. But he got there somehow, his eyes roaming all over the concrete walls and the bars on the windows. A shiver ran down his spine, an uncomfortable itch clawing inside his stomach. His eyes moved up and he stopped in his tracks.

There in one of the reflections in the glass he saw his angel, tears running down his freckled cheeks as he stared out the window.

He had to get in.

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[antianakin]

I'm not against the idea that Ahsoka ends up a little lopsided, but I think for me it'd be more about her emotions than her skillsets.

Because she is actually canonically a perfectly good teacher. We see her teach a group of Mandalorian teenagers about government corruption in like season 3. She helps advise a teenage Prince about how to manage being a leader in season 4.

The EARLY seasons of TCW would definitely have Ahsoka acting like this, for sure. The idea that Ahsoka doesn't realize that some of her actions might put her in front of a military tribunal when she first lands on the field is completely understandable. The idea that she finds Rex's disappointment really terrible is completely understandable.

But I don't really buy that the Ahsoka of later seasons would continue to have this issue, that she'd be able to understand the inherent unfairness of the system in place for the clones but not understand normal crimes exist or that her own actions could have military consequences. If she's observant and smart enough to recognize the consequences her men could face, she's smart enough to recognize the consequences SHE could face. She also literally goes into the normal criminal underground on Coruscant in like season 1 or 2 to get her stolen lightsaber back with a dude whose entire career has been about chasing normal criminals.

Ahsoka was likely given plenty of regular life skills in her earlier 14 years training to be a Jedi. It's not like they'd have taught her to be a soldier in a war given that they wouldn't have had any idea it was coming for a while and were actively trying to KEEP it from happening more recently. Ahsoka's training would've been aimed at helping her do more usual Jedi stuff and just giving her basic life skills, which is why she's perfectly able to teach a class of Mando teenagers and help a Mon Cala prince learn how to lead. It's not like Ahsoka's entire education started when she got put onto a battlefield, she's had YEARS OF IT prior to this and it was clearly pretty extensive, including things like politics and flying and teaching and childcare and basic social skills alongside some fighting skills.

Her primary flaws when she's younger aren't that she's unobservant or doesn't have basic life skills, it's that she's impatient and overconfident in herself. These are flaws that we DO see her learning how to address in the first three seasons and that she seems to have mostly mastered by season four.

But THAT'S where I'd want some of that lopsidedness to come in later in life. Ahsoka in Rebels should still be kind-of overconfident and impatient sometimes. I want to see her rushing into things and getting her ass handed to her sometimes. I want to see her overestimate her own abilities a little and Kanan or Hera or Ezra has to jump in to help her or point out that there's something coming she can't see and she needs to LISTEN to them instead of believing she knows better than everyone else.

I want the education Ahsoka is lacking to be her JEDI education. I want her to struggle more with managing her own emotions than the usual Jedi would. It isn't even explicitly because she grew up too fast but because her Master was the Worst Jedi To Ever Jedi and a complete failure at basic Jedi skills, so he never really manages to teach her some of these things. He can spit out platitudes until he goes blue in the face, but Ahsoka seems to learn primarily by EXAMPLE and, well, Anakin's example is a pretty shitty one to copy. Anakin teaches her to bottle things up, Anakin teaches her to believe she knows better than more experienced Jedi, Anakin teaches her to be secretive and not to trust the Jedi or their ways. I want to see Anakin's lessons be something that continues to fuck her up later. I want to see Anakin's influence be something that exacerbates her flaws from when she was younger instead of being more stabilizing. I want to see some of the better Jedi characters like Kanan or Ezra or Luke needing to help HER learn how to regulate her emotions better.

I want to see Ahsoka realizing that her Jedi training was stunted from the beginning and, if she ever wants to truly find peace, she has to let go of what she learned from Anakin and accept learning from a REAL Jedi (like Luke probably).

She IS disjointed because she DID get some Jedi training in her younger years that helps her be more functional as a person, but she struggles. A lot. More than most. She often seems perfectly fine, but then there are times when it becomes super clear that she's absolutely NOT fine and she's just mostly able to cover it up and get away with it due to the circumstances. She can spit out platitudes like her Master, tell Hera that she needs to learn to let go, but then, much like Anakin, she isn't capable of letting go of anything herself. I want to see people noticing that Ahsoka IS struggling, despite how put-together and competent she might seem, because her education was so lacking.

Unpopular opinion: I think Ahsoka is at her best and most interesting in the first two seasons of TCW and has only gotten progressively less nuanced as the years have gone by.

Ahsoka in TCW intentionally has flaws. They're pointed out more than once, there's ENTIRE EPISODES dedicated to Ahsoka having to fix her mistakes or being punished for disobeying orders or having to learn how to be better after she messes up and hurts people. Ahsoka has to keep learning lessons from Tera Sinube, and Aayla, and Luminara, and Padme, and Yoda.

But by the time you hit around season 4, Ahsoka starts being PERFECT. She is suddenly FLAWLESS as far as the narrative seems to see it. Even if she's doing the wrong thing, you're supposed to recognize that she is doing it for the right reasons. She's constantly level-headed, wise, and often treated as though she's practically an adult Jedi by the other Jedi around her despite having been young to be a Padawan at all and with only 2 years of training tops. It's no wonder so many people were so ready to believe that the Jedi were ready to Knight her at the end of the Wrong Jedi arc, Ahsoka's being written as though she's suddenly 25 years old with a decade of training, similar to how we see Obi-Wan acting in TPM instead of the barely trained child she should still be.

And then you hit Rebels and she's literally making entrances BATHED IN LIGHT LIKE AN ANGEL, incapable of being beaten by anyone except Darth Vader himself, she's got lightsabers of PURE WHITE LIGHT, and the other two Jedi characters treat her like a Master. And then she dies, walks off into the shadows, and comes back swathed in white robes and with a white staff, haloed in light like a wise shaman of some kind.

At least Din manages to push back against her choices in The Mandalorian, it's probably the first time we've seen Ahsoka have an opinion that someone else disagreed with and that the narrative explicitly treats as WRONG, forcing her to reconsider and make a different decision.

But by The Book of Boba Fett, she's schooling Din now, back to being the wise shaman who knows everything and can do no wrong.

In Tales of the Jedi, Ahsoka is practically perfection incarnate: more skilled than any other Jedi, more compassionate and connected to the galaxy than anyone else, someone who tamed and rode on the back of an apex predator before she could walk.

I want Ahsoka to have FLAWS again, I want the narrative to let her be WRONG and reap the consequences of that, I want to see Ahsoka LEARN SOMETHING again, I want to see her GROW as a character for the first time in over a decade.

[juniperdugong]

How silly

Pairing: Salaryman!Nanami x reader Genre: Romance, Fluff, Angst (?) CW: Heavily Suggestive but no real smut !!!MINORS DNI!!! WC: 4,269

A/N: Note, a Nomikai is like an after-work drinking party. Also...I'm back, lemme know if this is absolute shi- or not.

Despite his austere demeanor, Nanami Kento's house was rather cozy. There was enough space for himself and then some - when he's rather cold and calculative on the battlefield or behind a desk, his house remains warm and bright, inviting even.

Although, right now - to you, it was anything but.

You were leaning against the living room wall, your heart stirring with every sound Kento made in the kitchen. There were perfectly good and comfy seats to be taken on the couch but your nerves willed you to stand. You fiddled with your fingers and scanned the room - It wouldn't have been too long ago that you might've felt comfortable in this space, maybe even felt at home. But now it just served as a bitter reminder, one that Kento just had to bring up again.

"Take a seat, it's not like you to not make yourself at home." Nanami came in teasing you, all smiles as he brought in two mugs of tea - just the way you liked it, just the way that he remembered you liked it.

"I feel fine on the wall, Nanami." Your tone conveyed your nerves in a way that Nanami definitely disliked judging by the way you see his eye twitch slightly. You would be the first to talk casually but right now being formal was the one thing keeping that lump in your throat from forming.

"I thought we'd gotten past the formalities, y/n…" Disappointment rides over his face, he should be expecting this after how he acted in the office but it only makes his mood more sour. Sensing your apprehension he lightens up, "Right, sorry-", adjusting himself on the couch, he picks up one of the mugs and starts sipping, "Saw you've got a new assistant." He doesn't elaborate or even meet your eyes as he changes the subject.

"Nana-" He throws you a stare that makes you clear your throat, "Kento… what does me having a new assistant have to do with anyth-"

"Can I not have a good and well-mannered conversation with my co-worker?" He cuts you off, knowing what you're prodding him for but not giving in just yet.

"Not if that co-worker is me and anyways, I think officially speaking I'm your boss. Even more inappropriate." You nip at your fingernails before pulling your skirt down, "But that isn't even why we're really here."

He sets down his mug and gets up, your breath hitches at his movements and his gaze darkens at your trepidation - he approaches you slowly, "Let's not be like this, y/n.", it sounds like he's fed up with your attitude. You couldn't understand why he would be the one fed up in this situation but suddenly you can't control your breathing, chest rising up and down more and more rapidly as he stalks forward, the way the lighting hits him makes his shadow grow from your perspective- You feel like an animal being hunted and you're not sure if you like it. His eyes narrow as his imposing frame towers - caging you in.

"Kento, stop." You're stern as the pit in your stomach grows. And he pauses, shaking his head and chuckling before backing away and composing himself.

"I'm sorry- Sit. Please. I have a feeling we might take a while…" Acting as though he didn't just try to intimidate you he sits back down. Turning on the TV he drags out this moment of tension until you feel coerced to sit or else you'd get nowhere and you'd have come here for nothing.

---

Of course, it wasn't always like this. There was a point in time when his stalking was desired, lusted after, and in turn, he was fond of your seductive fawning & controlling side. Yours and Nanami's relationship was almost like a TV-perfect office romance/forbidden love trope. Both competing to get promotions, bickering in meetings to gain advantage & prestige, nothing more than idle talk about client meetings during work hours, and both equally as cold & uncaring in the eyes of everyone in the office.

After hours…now that was a different story altogether. What started as coincidentally meeting at the convenience store - both of you hammered after a night out to relieve stress - turned into much more. What neither of you would admit to calling an office crush twisted itself into love motel stops & Nomikai's that became routine for you two. Always claiming that "just one more night" would quell your desire for each other. It was almost toxic the way you wanted one another - how the frustration of the office during the day could be taken out on each other during the night.

But that relationship changed once you got promoted. You both had been up for the position for some time - having several meetings & being observed constantly - near continuous stress. Being so fiercely competitive you went at each other's throats, desperate to prove your worth to the company. Your nights out became back-to-back sessions of rough love-making that would end with tired eyes remembering the hostile environment you've both cultivated at the office that you would now have to return to in the morning.

When it was announced that you had gotten the position things began to shift. Of course, there was the relief of securing something earned through hard work & loyalty but looking Nanami in the eye became harder, as if through this your loyalty to him was in question. Over the next month your nomikai's together were less frequent, you were moved to the office one floor up so talking was rare now too - it all fizzled right at the climax. "How boring." Nanami thought.

Months passed and eventually, you lost all contact except for the occasional meeting or report. In a surprising turn of events, you got promoted again when the department head got fired as the new year came. This effectively made you Nanami's boss and once more your paths crossed with increased frequency.

Everything was really good. No longer colleagues and rivals, your relationship got better. You still felt the occasional guilt of climbing the corporate ladder faster than him, but it wasn't anything either of you could or would change at this point. You were able to make light conversation, the spark of the corrupted crush you had so long ago reigniting, but this time, more purely—more right.

You'd blush as you came into your office and saw a note with a coffee or breakfast sandwich next to it. Inside poetic waxing of 1-3 sentences often harping on "having a good day" & "gaining energy" from these lovely efforts. And at the end always signed "Ken."

Even the smallest efforts made your heart swell, as would anyone's given the circumstances and the man. Without needing physical intimacy there was a subtle tension, never negative, instead an electricity in the air that made the office feel more alive… Well, at least that's what you two would experience. Maybe this time you get off on the right foot and build up something real - although still heavily taboo between boss & employee. At least it would be a relationship bound by more than tenuous midnight moans & morning walks of shame.

---

At your height within the company, it would be stupid to take on menial tasks like running to the printer, confirming meeting times, and scheduling on-site appointments. Not too soon after your promotion, a peer advised you to get a full-time secretary or personal assistant. You had more than enough salary to pay someone, so why not? Less on your plate meant more time spent thinking about your personal life, something you couldn't afford to do before.

It didn't take long for young university hopefuls to come crawling out of the woodwork once you posted the job offer. Colleagues began being overly nice during work hours in hopes of buttering you up enough to mention a name of an underclassmen or relative. During this period, noticing the buzz around you Nanami came around less frequently in fear of being a bother but his presence made itself known in the refilled snack drawer by your desk and the organized documents that you had complained to him about over lunch. Eventually, you settled on a very nice young man who had good enough experience to not be a hassle to train but not too experienced to where your seniority felt pointless.

Sure enough, it made things much easier over the next week. Meetings went by more smoothly and you could contain work more strictly to office hours.

In your newfound free time, you often drifted to thinking about Kento and what your relationship was. You started to consider the thought of "liking" someone, of liking Nanami Kento seriously. How nice it would feel to go to dinner with him after work with no expectations of the night, of stealing kisses in the break room, of waking up next to someone and this time not rushing to gather your clothes from off the floor.

So, after a few months of back & forth and more time than ever to attempt something like this, you decided to test your waters by setting up coincidental bump-ins with him but the results were odd. You were friendly with each other sure but in your gut you could feel him pulling away. Every interaction becoming shorter and less filled with niceties & casual talk leaving you confused. You were so sure that this was working, that weeks ago this would've led to a real connection; Maybe you weren't on the same exact page but close enough… you had thought that at least.

Were the signals too mixed? Did he want to return to the casual sex from before? Was that what he was after all along? Was he not on the same page and saw this simply as friendliness between higher-up and lower employee?

But then what did it mean when he'd brought you coffee in the mornings? Or when he'd stop by your office during lunch to ask what you were eating? Or the shy smiles you'd steal from each other when you were sure no one was looking? What does all that mean if not "I like you"?

You couldn't stand it. Waiting for the coy smile of the businessman sitting across the room during a meeting became almost torturous. You're not sure but it feels like a significant change had occurred without you knowing. Like over the past week a frost had entered and frozen over an innocent springtime.

The next 2 weeks were spent analyzing this thing between you and in your analysis you confirmed one thing. That this was not a case of growing apart but rather an avoidance caused by an unknown subject- Unknown to you that is. A confusing loop of getting just close enough to observe the glimmer of want in his eyes when you were around but never close enough to actually talk about it. And that's when you knew that you had to do something or the spark would fizzle just as quickly as it did before.

---

"Nanami, can I talk to you in meeting room 3?" His eyebrow quirked at your sudden question.

"Oh sure, was something wrong with yesterday's reports? Or did the client from Y company say something?" As per usual he kept on the topic of business - He has no precedent to think this was anything but, after all.

"No, I actually just wanted to touch base about something else." His face was inscrutable as your words were taken in.

"I'll be there in 15. Just let me finish up these last couple of emails." Even his tone was monotonous, with no hint of deeper thought or meaning. For all you know, he could be cursing you out in his head.

15 minutes has never felt this long before. Circling the room you went over the conversation you've meticulously planned - All the responses he could make and all the actions he could take. You're not sure if in doing this you only made yourself more nervous or if it at all quelled your worry but you couldn't stop. Not until you heard those heavy footsteps and the door click.

"Nanam-"

"Y/n-" You almost giggled as your voices overlapped but seeing the forlorn look on Kento's face made that moment of joy subside.

"Sorry, you called me here for a reason. Please…" He gestured towards you to continue.

"Ah- I umm I just wanted to talk to you because recently it seems like you've been…avoiding me. I mean it's not like I expe-"

"Stop." He cuts you off abruptly. "Not during work hours, please."

"Then when? I can never find a moment with you alone these days. It's only in an official capacity like this can I even see you right now."

"Y/n-" He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples before continuing, "Look - I'm sorry. I have been avoiding you. But it's for a good reason."

"Good reason? What reason?" You don't mean to sound as mad as you do but you couldn't help it - You were hurt. What reason could he possibly have for distancing himself like this? The look on your face must've conveyed your emotions perfectly because he immediately softens raising a hand to your cheek to comfort you.

"Mrs. L/n are you in- I am so sorry." Your assistant walks just before Kento can reach you. "Mr. Lee is ready to see you in your office. Please excuse me." He leaves just as quickly as he arrives.

You turn your attention back to Kento as you see his gaze linger on the door as it swings closed. Whatever softness he was going to reach you with has hardened, his eyes narrowed with a look of displeasure. "Ken-"

"It looks like you have to go, Mrs. L/n." He straightens up and addresses you formally. You're about to speak up as he leans in close to your ear, "My house tomorrow after work if you have further business to discuss regarding this manner."

Fixing himself he doesn't even spare you a glance. He makes his annoyance far too obvious with the low grumble that echoes throughout the room. Completely frozen from the shock of his whispered proposal you couldn't comment on his attitude, not even as his boss.

You shudder at the thought of being alone with him again after those words. What consequences have you brought upon yourself this time? Going to his house either sounds like the worst hell or the most gracious heaven right now and your mind can't settle on which one sounds more probable. There was only one way to find out.

---

Well now you were certainly in his home but the pressure in the room was enough to make an elephant sweat. Coerced to sit you breathe out heavily, adjusting yourself to as comfortably as you could in your rigidness. Kento reaches for the TV remote and turns the volume down before turning to face you nonchalantly.

"This silence is scaring me a bit, Kento." You break the silence, your words have a joking tone but he takes it seriously even as you pose a fake smile.

"I'm scaring you? I'm…" He swallows his words, straightens out, and takes a breath, "I'm sorry about that y/n. What was it that you wanted to discuss?" It's almost sickening the way he puts on the formality of business with you after nearly pouncing.

"What? No, you're not- Wait. Can we just stop this?" You rush to clear up whatever spiraling thought he had from your few words before focusing your gaze down, embarrassed of bringing up the subject.

"Stop what?" And it sounds like he's genuinely asking. Raising your head back up to meet his eyes you see confusion but also want to resolve whatever this is. Some amount of confidence is restored as you realize that it isn't just you who wants to fix things.

"Well, like I said back in the meeting room, you've been avoiding me Kento. And don't try to deny it."

He pauses trying to collect his words, "I have. But like I said for good reas-"

"Then just tell me the reason Kento." You raise your voice out of frustration.

Nanami retreats, readjusting to calm his nerves. You've never seen him so timid except for when he has to ask if his favorite treats are in stock at the bakery. He can't bring himself to look at you anymore. Whatever confidence he had was blown away by your exclamation. He picks up his mug, takes a sip of his tea, and fiddles with the handle - head downturned.

A murmur comes from him, "What is this?"

"What?" You can barely grasp the words.

"This." And he gestures between the two of you. "What is it? Y/n."

"I'm not understanding, Ken." And you notice the nickname catches his attention as his head whips to look at you - only then do you realize that you haven't addressed him so casually since before your promotions. Not even when you were flirting through office exchanges. For a second you wonder when that hostile relationship became more casual & comfortable than what you had grown accustomed to now.

Nanami bites his bottom lip, "Are we something? Anything other than coworkers? Tell me upfront, please because I don't think I can handle any more of these blurry lines. It's hurting my heart too much." It's a shock to you to see him this way but even more of a shock to himself as he's sure he's never even been this shaken by a curse standing right in front of him but now you've gone and turned things upside down.

You're speechless. Isn't that what you meant to ask him? He was the one putting distance between you. He was the one avoiding you. And now he was asking you this as if you're the one to blame for his actions. For someone so incredibly smart man, oh man was he dumb when it came to emotions. For the first time above the sheets, you're seeing Nanami Kento crumble into your hands. The intimidation tactics from before you now realize were just a front for him to hide all these feelings.

"Do you want to be something other than "coworkers"? Nanami." You scoot closer to him.

"I don't know what to think right now." His eyes are glossy but not yet tear-filled however with the shaky tone you have a feeling that the flood was incoming.

"Just tell me everything that crosses your mind. Anything is better than nothing right now." You're begging him at this point to open up to you. Staying in this relationship purgatory hell for any longer would drive you up a wall.

"Maybe…I don't know." He sighs, " I just- I don't think I'm in my right mind when it comes to you." Placing the mug back down he puts his hands to his face trying to gain clarity.

"What do you mean? Ken." You reach out to him, placing a hand on his knee.

He turns his head to face you again, another heavy sigh escaping him before placing his head back in his hands speaking slightly muffled. "You've made me insane, y/n." He chuckles and you smile, it feels so good to hear him laugh genuinely for just a moment even in his presumed "insanity". "Every time I see you I just want to- I want to hold you. And every time you're near my heart feels at peace but never at ease. I don't know what to make of you."

"I'm afraid I'm still not understanding?" You can sense the inner turmoil he's going through but his word vomit, although pretty, isn't helping you piece it all together clear enough to respond; You're not sure what's holding him back but you know you want to help him through it. Standing up you place yourself in front of him, kneeling slightly to pry his hands away from his face.

He looks up at you as you stand tall before him. Tears now brimming. You never thought a day would come when you would see Nanami of all people on the brink of collapse, as sad as it was it was also extremely cute. But, Was whatever he had to admit something to get this emotional about? Or was it just the fact that it involved you? Even he couldn't be sure of the answer.

"I'm pathetic." He lets his hands flop onto his lap as his shoulders slump and his head hits your stomach in defeat.

You chuckle at the admission brushing the back of his head and letting your hand play with the strands at the nape of his neck. "How are you pathetic? Have I made you feel like that? Is that why…you won't talk to me anymore?"

"What?! No!" He exclaims before calming down once more, this time he places his chin on your navel to look up at you, "I'm pathetic because I get jealous over - what is probably - nothing…" He digs himself back into the softness of your belly, bringing his arms to wrap around your waist - securing you where he can breathe you in.

"Can you let me in on what this "nothing" is? Because I've been nothing but confused these past few weeks, Kento."

Breathing you in, he says something completely muffled that tickles you just enough to lightly chuckle.

"Hmm?" You brush at his gel-hardened hair to coerce him to face you and he follows your movements as if entranced by your touch. His eyes close as he brings his hand to meet yours now leading you to cup his face letting his thumb brush over the skin on your hand. How good it feels to smell you he thinks.

Oh how men fall, more specifically how Nanami Kento falls to your visage as slivers of city lights intertwine with the warm interior and you're illuminated like no goddess he could even imagine. If he could stretch this moment in time forever he would - but he cannot and thus he resigns to just taking you in as your face continues to screw up in confusion.

"Your assistant." and he lets his head hang once more, too embarrassed of his truth to let you meet his eyes.

"My assistant?" You're genuinely confused by the two words for a quick second before it clicks, "Oh…my assistant…He's why you don't want to take me out to lunch anymore?"

"I always want to take you out to lunch, y/n. But how can I- sigh When he's with you 24/7 & gets to be with you all day, how can I not feel so…angry."

"Ken…" You almost have no words, of course, emotions are fickle and he can't control the way he feels but it is kind've silly; While you've been worrying your butt off over him, he's been hiding his possessiveness when you never asked him to. Part of you (a really big part) finds it cute, the other part acknowledges just how stupid that sounds. All this running around each other for nothing - weight lifted but reassurance surely still needed.

"I told you. Nothing." Once again he digs himself so deep into your stomach you're sure he's bound to create some sort of mark.

"No no, not nothing. Well-"

"See!" And you both giggle at the immediate retort.

The entire time you're above him you can't help but think about how odd this position is physically and metaphorically. You're "above" him and he doesn't mind, not the way that you thought he would anyway. And the truth is that Kento would much prefer you above him (in more ways than one) and whatever doubt you had that he would despise you - that he should despise you - after everything that you've taken from him vanishes; you mean so much more to him than official positions and rankings. He loves you, the way his eyes have gained back their sparkle just by being in your presence proves it.

"Should I get rid of him?" You're half joking but in your truest heart of hearts if he asked you would try your best to accommodate his worries.

"Don't do that to the kid…"

"So you're aware that he is just a kid-"

"As I've told you multiple times now, I know it was baseless emotions. Not that I could help it but I know- I should've talked to you sooner."

"Yes. Much sooner." You return to your place beside him on the couch clutching his hand in yours and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Forgive me?"

"Never." He looks at you a bit confused. "Spend every day - starting now - making it up to me Nanami Kento."

A grin so big you couldn't ever imagine it on his face unless it was happening right in front of you - as it was right now - appears. He straightens himself, adjusting pants and all - as if he wasn't already extremely attractive - and faces you. "You've got a deal Mrs. L/n." He holds out a hand and with a firm shake tackles you into the sofa. Suddenly, once more you feel at home in his home. You feel just right where you need to be with Mr. Nanami Kento… or just Ken.

A/N: Holy hell...I'm back babies. Srsly though what did you think of this fic?? Idk how to feel. It's like between a masterpiece and a piece of garbage idk....

Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[obito-in-disguise]

| Helping Toji shave |

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes, for the eighth time. Relax, I've done this before"

From your perch on the cool tiles of the bathroom counter, you gently tug him closer, drawing his large frame between your thighs so you can evenly spread the shaving cream across his face.

You can’t help but giggle at the sight, he looked like if Santa Claus and Jason Statham had a baby.

He scowls and swats your hand away when you start shaping the edges of his shaving cream mustache into pointy ends. "I know you’ve shaved your legs before doll, but this is different. This is my face" he sighs.

"Legs, face, same thing" you shrug, picking up the razor. The shiny blade catches the light, glimmering with dark promise at Toji.

"Hardly..." he grimaces as you bring the razor a bit too quickly to his cheek, the metal gliding over his skin a touch too fast for his liking.

He grips your hips, his expression softening as he watches you tackle his stubble like it’s the most important task in the world. That tenderness quickly gives way to alarm when you tilt the razor at an awkward angle against his skin.

"Careful...careful!" he warns, feeling the razor tug more than it should.

"Oh my gosh, relax your titties..." you mumble, your eyes locked on your task. Your hand continues making haphazard strokes with the razor while the other one casually drifts to cup said titties, for reassurance of course.

He scoffs and pulls your hand away from his chest, 'titties?' these were rock hard pecs.

"I got this, okay?" you add, locking in.

-----

Toji stands in front of the mirror, a scowl etched across his face that was now dotted with little squares of bandages from the numerous nicks you managed to give him.

"You definitely didn't have it" he sighs, glancing at you. His expression softens when he sees you standing to the side like a kicked puppy, disappointment in your eyes at your work.

"It’s okay, doll. Better luck next time" he says, stepping closer and gently lifting your chin with a tender grasp.

You sniffle as you study your monstrosity of a shave job, then crack a small hopeful smile. "You'll let me do it next time?"

He snorts. "Fuck no, I just said that so you'd feel better"

You squeal as he leans forward, scooping you up over his shoulder. He playfully pinches your thigh, chuckling as you reflexively bump your knee against his chest.

"Let's get something to eat"

Toji can put them titties in my face any day he wants.

Tiny taglist: @catlover19282

Feel free to check out more of my Jujutsu Kaisen fics and other stories!

[ldydeath]

My Heaven | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Jiyong wants to marry you.  Warnings: None. Author’s Note: This is short sappy fluffy fic in honor of Valentine's Day.

Today was your five year anniversary and Jiyong wanted to make today as special as possible. It was no secret that the man was crazy about you, he only told you every chance he got. Which is why tonight at dinner, he was going to propose to you. Jiyong had been talking about marriage for a long time now, bringing it up in interviews. Tonight had to be perfect. Jiyong didn’t know what he’d do if you said no. He wasn’t going to think about that right now, he had too many other things to prepare than to think about the worst case scenario. 

You had been given very clear instructions to pamper yourself that day, mani, pedi, buy a new outfit, all at his expense and then meet Jiyong at the restaurant for dinner. You weren't stupid, or at least you hoped you weren’t. Men didn’t usually drop such large hints when they were about to propose but Jiyong couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Not that he’d said anything, but he was good about dropping the biggest, most obvious hints. You’d had butterflies in your stomach all day as you pampered yourself for your big date. There was nobody else in the world for you and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with your soulmate. 

“Hi you.” You grinned at your boyfriend as you walked into the restaurant. You took note that it wasn’t the fanciest place you’d imagined but you trusted Jiyong, whatever his vision was you knew you’d see it soo. “Hi.” He grinned, standing up to greet you with a kiss.

He was nervous, something he’d never been good at hiding but you hoped you could reassure him throughout the night that you knew and it was an easy yes. He had to know this was all you’d ever wanted, since the first day you’d met him. He was special, he was amazing, he was yours. Who wouldn’t want to be with him for the rest of their life? 

“How was your day?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the question, and he raised a brow in response. You shook your head taking a sip of your wine. “It was good, how was yours?” He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. “It was good.” 

As you two ate, he continued to tease you, asking questions and watching your disappointed reactions every time. This was definitely more fun than leaving hints around the house for you. Not that he didn’t have more tricks up his sleeve, because of course he did. He cleared his throat as he finished eating and leaned over the table, a card dangling from his fingers. You eyed it suspiciously before taking it from his fingers. 

“What’s this?” You looked up at him before eying the card again trying to make sense of the address on it. “Meet me there in twenty minutes.” His eyes scanned your body, before he tilted his head to look down at your shoes. “Might want to change those.” He stood up, adjusted his coat and walked over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Dinner’s already paid for.” He winked at you before walking out of the restaurant. 

What the fuck? This man was going to drive you insane but you couldn’t help the grin from spreading across your face. The address he’d given you was to one of your favorite spots in town and you couldn’t wait to get there. You had time though, it was an easy five minute drive to the location and you didn’t want to arrive early. He too needed to be kept guessing. 

You pulled up at the park and made your way through the entrance, not sure where to go when you spotted a faint glow off in the distance. Your stomach was currently doing summersaults, why were you nervous? It was only the moment you’d been waiting for for nearly five years. Spotting Jiyong standing in the middle of the courtyard you smiled as you made your way to him. 

He’d lined up the circle with roses and twinkling lights, making it look like a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Which it was, every day with Jiyong had been a fairy tale. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him. His face lit up and he grinned at you.

“Took you long enough.” You rolled your eyes as you stopped in front of him. 

“Had to change my shoes, remember?” He smirked at your comment, pleased that his trick had worked. "What's all this?" You knew the answer, but you needed him to say it.

Grabbing your hands in his, you offered him a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes stayed locked on his, trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Which was getting difficult with the way he was looking at you. He always looked at you like you were the only person on the planet but this was different, somehow. More intense, more love than you’d ever remembered seeing. 

“You are by far the best thing to ever happen to my life. I knew when I met you that you were different, I wasn’t prepared for how you were going to come in and flip everything upside down. Everyday's an adventure with you, I genuinely have no idea what’s going on in that brain of yours or what you’ve got planned for us and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He paused, pulling a box out of his pocket, your breath catching in your throat as he smirked at you before kneeling down on one knee. “I had so many things prepared to say to you but I’m afraid if I don’t ask you now I’ll chicken out. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me, will you marry me?” 

You stood there for a minute trying to get the words to come out, all you wanted to do was yell yes a thousand times but you couldn’t get the words to come out. You nodded your head frantically and Jiyong grinned at you as he moved to slide the ring on your finger. 

“Yes, yes…a million times yes.” You cried as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He laughed before covering your lips with his. “Oh my god, I’m going to be Mrs. Dragon” you squealed as you pulled away, bringing your hand up to your face to examine the ring. Not that you cared at all about the design, you only cared about the man it belonged to.

Jiyong laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you back through the park. “Maybe we should try Kwon.” He teased and you shook your head. You’d tell him some other time that you would be requesting all your friends to call you Mrs. Dragon from here on out. He was the one that said he liked you keeping him guessing anyway. 

“I love you.” He sighed into your hair as he planted a kiss on your forehead, opening your car door in one swift moment. God, he was so hot when he oozed this natural confidence.  “I love you too, Mr. Dragon.” You leaned up pecking his lips and he rolled his eyes as you slid into your car. 

He had the rest of his life to argue with you about names. If you wanted to be Mrs. Dragon, he’d call you that, whatever you wanted. He was going to spend the rest of his life spoiling you. 

tag list: @wcnderlnds, @alosss-blog@sooyasya@dprvivi@infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

[wordsmeetwbb]

Every Loser Needs an Azzi

Word count: 1.3k

Content: fluff, angst (it’s just hurt/comfort okay)

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: Short little fluff piece for you on this fine UConn vs South Carolina game eve. If UConn loses in a dramatic fashion tomorrow (which I'm hoping they won't), at least we still have fluffy fanfiction!

________

Paige had played like shit. Worse than it, actually. Sure, everybody had bad games. Paige knows that. But this had been downright embarrassing. She slumps onto a bench in the visitor’s locker room, avoiding the pitying looks from her teammates. Azzi, KK, and Jana had already gone to do media, so no one left in the locker room was brave enough to approach her. Good.

Her mind runs wild as she goes through the motions of showering, changing, and heading out to the bus that’s already waiting outside. She’s moving slowly, too caught up in her thoughts. By the time Paige gets on the bus, trying to ignore the disappointed stares from fans, Azzi is already in a seat, headphones on, looking out the window. Paige plops down in the seat across the aisle, avoiding the look she can feel Azzi giving her. She doesn’t want to see the disappointment coming from her too.

“Paige,” Azzi says. Her voice is soft but somehow still carries the few feet to Paige’s ears, even through the raucous noise of the mostly full bus. Paige slouches further into her seat and pretends not to hear. “Paige,” Azzi tries again, voice more insistent now. Paige can’t help it. She glances up.

Azzi’s staring at her, eyebrows raised but with no judgment on her face. No pity, no disappointment. She pouts a little. “You’re not really gonna make me sit by myself, are you? After a loss?” She complains. Her tone is light but Paige is immediately hit by guilt. A loss that she caused. Paige looks away from the brunette, staring out the window at the fans for only a moment before she can’t bear it, and looks straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of her.

“Paige.” Silence. Paige presses herself into the wall of the bus, pulls her headphones over her ears, tugs her hood up, and tries to hide from Azzi. She’s not proud of it, but she doesn’t want to face reality on this bus.

A body slides into the seat next to her. The scent of vanilla perfume and lavender soap washes over Paige, soothing her just slightly. “You don’t have to talk to me, but you can’t hide from me either,” Azzi says softly, too quiet for the rest of the team in the seats around them to hear. Paige nods, just once, and swallows hard. Azzi gets comfortable in the seat next to her. She’s being careful not to touch Paige, to give her space. All the places where Azzi’s body would usually be pressed into Paige’s are notably cold, but Paige is grateful for the separation.

The bus starts moving. Paige turns her music up as her teammates continue to chatter around her, seemingly unphased by the pathetic loss they had just been handed. She stares out the window and watches fields rush by. Five hours later the sun has set and Paige is finally back in her apartment. Jana and Allie are mercifully quiet, so she escapes to her room quickly, dropping her bag by the door and heading straight for her closet, desperate to just put her pajamas on and go to sleep.

She’s just crawled into bed when there’s a knock at her door. She knows it’s Azzi without asking. She hesitates. Azzi doesn’t open the door, just knocks again.

“Paige? Can I come in?” She calls, voice muffled by the wood between them. Paige wants to say no. Wants to pull the covers over her head and pretend she’s already asleep so she doesn’t have to face her girlfriend. She doesn’t do that though.

“Yeah,” she croaks, voice rough from yelling during the game and not speaking for hours after it. Azzi opens the door slowly, looks at the way Paige is curled up on the bed, and immediately folds the blonde into her arms.

“It’s okay, baby,” Azzi soothes, one hand rubbing up and down Paige’s back as Paige breathes shaky breaths into her neck. A tear slips down Paige’s face, the droplet tracing a hot, wet line down her cheek. She’s thankful Azzi can’t see it.

“One point,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin. “One point, three rebounds, two assists, and five turnovers.” Azzi doesn’t shush her this time, just lets her get the words out. “Five fucking turnovers, Az. Do you know how many points they scored off of my turnovers? Nine. Nine fucking points, and I only scored one to make up for it. I couldn’t get anybody the fucking ball, couldn’t get it through the hoop, couldn’t even keep it in my goddamn hands. I’m supposed to be the best in the nation and look at me. Fucking pathetic.” The words quickly devolve into sobs, tears falling onto Azzi’s shoulder, soaking the fabric of her shirt. Azzi just holds Paige.

At some point, Azzi moves them to lay down, once Paige’s tears have calmed down enough that she isn’t gasping for air. Paige is still wrapped in Azzi’s arms, and she knows that one of them must be falling asleep, prickling painfully where it’s trapped under Paige’s body, but she can’t quite get herself to move.

“That was a bad game,” Azzi says finally. Paige lets out a surprised, wet laugh.

“Gee, thanks for pointing that out, Az. I didn’t notice that I cost us the fucking game until just now when you said that,” she says sarcastically. Paige can hear Azzi’s tentative smile when she replies.

“You cost us the game and you’re still the best player in the nation.” Paige wants to cry again. She turns herself all the way around in Azzi’s embrace so they’re facing each other, scans Azzi’s face, and then lets herself smile a little bit. Not a big smile. Not a particularly happy one. But a small, fragile thing.

“I guess we’ll see when ESPN puts out the next mock draft, right?” She jokes. Relief breaks over Azzi’s face. She reaches a hand up, the one that’s not trapped under Paige’s body, and brushes away the remnants of Paige’s tears.

“It’s okay to have bad games, Paige,” she says gently. “Being Paige Bueckers doesn’t exempt you from that.” Paige swallows around the lump in her throat.

“I know. It's just… knowing that I’m going to have shitty games doesn’t make having one any easier. All those people that come to see us play, see me play- hell, you see those signs, Az! People driving across the fucking country to watch and I just disappointed all of them. They didn’t come to watch that disaster.” Azzi grasps Paige’s face gently but firmly and tilts her so that she has to meet her eyes.

“Honey, you don’t owe anybody a damn thing. Every single person in that arena chose to be there, regardless of how you performed. And yeah, there’s probably somebody who walked out of there feeling disappointed. Who fucking cares? You don’t know them, Paige. They don’t know you. Bad games don’t define your career, and they certainly don’t define you as a person,” Azzi soothes. Paige brings her arms around Azzi and hangs on for dear life.

“How are you so fucking emotionally wise? Who taught you this?” She groans. Azzi laughs.

“I read books and talk about my feelings, Paige. It’s not my fault you can’t read,” she teases. Paige grips Azzi a little harder.

“I can read. Just don’t like it,” she mumbles. Azzi presses a kiss into Paige’s hair.

“Sure, honey. Whatever you say. As long as we can go to sleep now,” Azzi yawns. Paige’s heart stutters as she looks at Azzi.

“Yeah. We can go to sleep now,” she agrees.

As Azzi is drifting off, Paige hugs her tighter. “Thank you,” she whispers. Azzi mumbles something that might be a reply, and although she had just played the worst game of her college career, Paige had never felt more like she had won.

[littelovelunette]

i'm obsessing over ur page rn because i LOVE our wifes vi & sevika 🫶🫶 was wondering if you could do (if u haven't already) nsfw headcanons for one of them? like ... what are their turn-ons, their turn-offs, what they like in a woman ... maybe even kinks ... im curious and i can't ask chatgpt these things 🤧.

I gotchu and thank you so much it means a lot when I hear praises about my writings it makes me feel really supported and loved thank you so so much and ig i already did do nsfw headcanons for sevika but ima do a new one for you because you made me day just now and i will include BOTH OF THEM

HEADCANONS (TURN ONS, TURN OFFS, KINKS) ft. Sevika and Vi

Sevika

turn ons

a woman shorter than her or in general smaller than her which is pretty much all women because cmon sevika is tall and buff as fuck

thick thighs are a huge turn on for her

being bitten harshly, not the wussy type of bites, the type that would draw blood and ache for days

obedient girlies who spread their legs whenever asked to do it but that doesn't mean she'll turn down a brat just cause she likes obedience, she will spank you raw if you're bratty

women with high sex drive

sevika gets super wet when someone takes charge when she's tired from work and would lay back and let you do the work, strong women who take charge and are mentally sluts are attractive to her

big ass

anything related to mild danger really

turn offs

being on the receiving end of degradation (baby is insecure deep down but doesn't let it show) but you can call her slut, whore, bitch; just don't insult her arm or anything about her not caring about grooming herself, age, looks and that stuff

you taking advantage of drunk sevika would disappoint her and turn her off, she wont let you touch her for days

publicly she holds all dominance and if you try to make her act submissive to you in public she'll instantly lose her sexual appetite

hard to turn her off in general because she has a high sex drive

kinks

knife play, gun play enthusiast

anal, she likes giving more than receiving because receiving it... well, sevika squirts a lot when she receives anal and she feels embarrassed about it but if you dominate her successfully and are close enough she'll ache for anal pleasure

power play, seeing how strong she is compared to her gets her off easily

breeding kink hardcore, oh she wishes she could pump you full of semen because even if she says she prefers not being with children, settling down has been a lifelong dream

bondage, should've seen the way she looked at jinx when she was tied up

mild sadism during sex because cmon, the girl grew up around guns and fights

double penetration because why not?

Violet

turn ons

seeing your mouth around anything whether its even a popsicle or you licking off the seasoning of chips off your fingers

you in a skirt for some reason turns her on maybe it's just the view of your beautiful legs

you being assertive as fuck with her, she loves it when you take control for a change and it makes her fantasize about how you could make her moan and make her feel so good

you in her shirts or hoodies makes her bend you over and fuck you in that very clothing

seeing you without a bra makes her grab your boobs in a tight grasp and bite them because they just look so delicious

loves having you on her lap and it gets her wet seeing you all pretty on her lap

soft gentle sex

turn offs

dishonesty during intercourse

idea of someone else owning you or having it with you makes her blood boil

overly fragile or needy behaviour from you turns her off because she wants you to know she'll always be there to do anything and everything for you, protect you and nurture you

disrespecting her family turns her off hardcore

sadism during sex turns her off and she won't be cruel to you during sex at all, maybe a little due to simple teasing but she won't deprive you of anything if you're a masochist

kinks

spanking, she loves you bend over her lap and crying as she slaps your ass firmly for teasing her in public

nipple clamps and she will pull on them deliberately to make you whine and cry

69 because she loves burying her face in your pussy while you do the same for her trying to keep her in place because she wriggles out of sensitivity so much

leaving hickeys all over your chest and inner thighs too so she can claim you in every way possible she just loves you so much

having you blindfolded, tied up, gagged so all you can do is take her

she loves fingering you to no end she would do it every day and all the time if she could

she likes stretching your pussy out and watching the arousal dripping down

[tonyspep]

omg i never expected a whole sequel to one of my favorite fics EVER but omg to say this didn't disappoint is an understatement!! you're such a great writer and while i don't think ellen would be as blunt as this, i understand her pov and you really fleshed her out and made her more than just an obstacle luke and the reader had to get past you know what i mean? i like how they bonded and got past ellen's concerns in a natural way where the reader stood up for herself without it getting really ugly and it felt like a real moment that was genuine. i love this whole series and luke being with a girl who has his best interests at heart and how he just knows he's going down the right path with her, so he doesn't hesitate to go all in that's very luke to me, and as always you write him so well.

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.