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vivwritesfics · 21 days ago

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Easy Is The Way

He made it very clear that you would entertain his company, but little else. He would no fall for you, but he would not be cruel to you. He would be kind to you, he would care for you, but he would not let himself fall for you

Lucius Verus x reader (general Acacius's daughter)

Chapter One

"What did he do to you?" Your father whispered once you had gotten home.

"Nothing," you said quickly, shaking your head. "Father, he was not cruel to me. He did not lay a hand on me. He allowed me to rest." Your arms were crossed over your stomach, holding your sides as you looked at the floor.

Your father wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. "I will put a stop to this," he whispered, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. "Even if it ends me."

You swallowed, your mouth dry as you stepped back, as you walked away from him. The baths. You just wanted to wash. Wash away the Colosseum, wash away all of it.

Hanno. His home had been taken from him by your father. His life had been ruined by your father. His wife, murdered at your father's command. He had no reason to be kind to you, had every reason to wrap his hands around your neck and watch you die.

It was the revenge he so deserved. Take the life of Marcus Acacius' daughter, avenge his wife.

Something was going on with Lucilla.

As you bathed, you heard whispers. Things that the staff had overheard, that they were sharing amongst themselves. But they weren't sharing it with you. You tried to listen in as you soaked in the warm waters of the private baths in your home, but they were keenly aware of you.

The information was not for your ears, that was clear.

Your father was being secretive, quiet. Whatever was going on with Lucilla was shared between them, not for your ears. You gritted your teeth and tried to not let the frustration show on your face.

No matter what room you entered, it fell silent as soon you did. Even if you tried to creep, you were unable to keep yourself hidden. Your fathers trained ears were able to pick you up the moment your sandals hit the stone floor.

You couldn't hide that it frustrated you. Not knowing, being left in the dark.

The next day of the games. You didn't expect your gladiator to survive. But he wasn't your gladiator, was he? He was just a gladiator who happened to be kind to you.

Maybe the Emperors would make another example out of you. Maybe they would send you down to the Colosseum again if he won, send you to be his prize. You could spend time with him, get to know more about him and his home.

The colosseum was full of water. It looked beautiful, but you knew that it was deadly. Water full of sharks and, soon, the remains of gladiators.

Seated beside your father, you watched as the ships emerged. There was little you could hear over the cheer of the crowd, but Hanno's voice rang out. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but it was clear as day that he was leading his men.

Whilst everyone cheered, while the twin Emperors grinned down at the scene in front of them, the scene that had been carefully curated for their amusement and pleasure, you shut your eyes. The violence and blood and gore of men fighting men had already been too much for you.

This was another level of barbaric.

The same air of unease settled over Lucilla and your father. She held his hand, unable to breathe as the flaming arrows were shot towards the gladiators.

The sail was on fire as the two ships headed towards each other. Muttered prayers left your lips, not loud enough for anybody to hear over the noises of the crowd. This wasn't real to them. Some game to fill their afternoon.

The first gladiator fell into the water. You could only hope that the arrow piercing his armour got to him before the shark did. The beast grabbed him, tore him apart as the water around his body turned red.

Your heart beat erratically as you searched for Hanno. There he was, still commanding the gladiators. You released a breath, sitting back in your seat.

They used the ship like a battering ram, splintering the hull of the other one. Immediately, Hanno began running. He leapt onto the other ship, taking two men down with him.

Another man fell into the water. The sharp immediately grabbed him and dragged him to his death.

In a way you were grateful for the smoke that obscured your view. You couldn't see the danger, couldn't see the brutality happening before you.

You couldn't see if Hanno was stabbed. You couldn't see if he was tossed into the water and torn apart by the sharks. In a way it was a blessing.

But you didn't know what was happening. It had unease settling in your chest as you desperately tried to see what was going on. The glimpses, not long enough to see which gladiator was which, did nothing to settle you.

The ships moved closer, oars splintering against the Colosseum walls. They were in front of you now, close enough that you could hear every time their swords clashed, every grunt that left their lips. You couldn't look away.

Suddenly, you caught a glimpse of Hanno. He grabbed the crossbow and raised it as the other gladiators fought. For a moment, one moment where your anxiety had spiked so high, you thought he was pointing it at you. But his eyes were trained on you, he hadn't even looked your way.

Your father. He wanted to kill your father. If it wasn't for the gladiator that knocked into him, he would have. He loosed the arrow as the other gladiator touched him and the arrow embedded itself in Emperor Geta's seat.

You couldn't stop the way you gasped. For a brief second, while he picked himself up, he looked at you. Geta shouted. You didn't know what he shouted as you sat forward in your seat. Your father stood, pulling Lucilla up with him. It wasn't safe, that was clear.

Your father pulled you to your feet, but you shrugged off his grip, desperate to see more. Hanno would not hurt you, you knew that much.

Geta and Caracalla ran, their tails tucked between their legs. But your father was still, unable to look away from the gladiator that had threatened his life. Did he know that he was the real target? That the arrow was never meant for Emperor Geta?

"In the name of the Emperors!" The games master shouted, drawing out every word "The victor is Hanno!"

Macrinus stood, and you did the same. You raced out ahead of him, heading the way they took you the day before, when you being given as a prize, as a punishment.

They didn't stop you as you moved through the colosseum. Everybody beneath the colosseum cheered, beat their chests as Hanno as his army (because really, what else were they? They were willing to follow him to the ends of the earth) walked through.

You watched, hidden behind the men as they stopped. "Who did this?" Somebody shouted, but you couldn't see who. You didn't move around too much, desperate to keep yourself hidden until you could get to Hanno.

Nobody answered. The cheering stopped, all eyes on the gladiators that had just finished competing. The ones that had made it out of there alive, anyway.

"WHO DID THIS!"

"It was me!"

"I did it!"

There were shouts from every direction, making it impossible to pinpoint the true culprit. But you knew, you had seen it first had. It struct you then how close you were to losing your life at Hanno's hands.

"Geta will want retribution for all of you." He approached Hanno as each word left his lips, seemingly punctuated by his steps. "Did you learn to shoot the same place you learnt to recite poetry?"

"Be glad it wasn't me or that arrow would have found you." Hanno's deep voice echoed throughout the Colosseum. Low and deadly, reverberating through you. But the laughs of the gladiators drowned it out.

He turned away, moved through his fellow gladiators until his eyes landed on you. His eyebrows went up, but he said nothing as he grabbed you and tucked you into his side.

It wasn't a move of affection, a move to keep you safe from the other gladiators. "I was not aiming for you," he said quietly, the words meant only for you.

"I know," you replied as he sat down. "You were aiming for the general, weren't you?"

He nodded and your fingers worked to strip him of his armour. He sat still, staring up at you as you tugged the leather. His injuries weren't as bad as they were the game before. The wounds that Ravi had closed up previously had remained closed through the game.

"I don't blame you for wanting to kill the general," you whispered, rocking on your feet. You didn't realise that you were doing it until he grabbed the backs of your thighs to still you.

The both of you were still, unmoving as you stared at each other. Hanno blinked at you, searched your face. You didn't know what he was reading in your face.

You wanted to touch him, wanted to reach up and wipe the blood from his cheeks. You wanted to touch his shoulders, feel the muscles there. He could easily cage you in with nothing but his arms, and it would leave you feeling nothing but safe.

"You watch the games with him although you hate it," he said, eyes still searching your face. You didn't move didn't react. "You are there as punishment. Just as you are here as punishment."

You shook your head and let go of his armour, letting it drop to the floor. "Yesterday, the emperors sent me here to set an example for my father. To show him what they can do should he threaten to disobey. Today, I am here of my own volition."

You stepped back as Ravi approached, letting him check over your gladiator. But still, Hanno was looking at you. "Why?" He asked.

Swallowing, you looked at your sandals. Ravi glanced at you for a moment, only a moment, and turned his attention back to Hanno. Did he know who you were? He must have. You could only pray that he didn't reveal you.

"I had to know," you whispered, breath catching in your throat. "I had to make sure they hadn't killed you for what you have done."

It took you by surprise when Hanno laughed. He let his gaze drop to his lap as he continued to laugh. "I will not be slain by a Roman sword," he said and Ravi stepped away from him.

Standing once again, Hanno grabbed it. It wasn't harsh, pulling you close once again to lead you through the Colosseum. No other gladiator dared to look at you when Hanno, the champion, had a hold of you.

It was a night much like the first. This time, Hanno sat closer to you as you. Your words were hushed, whispered between the two of you. To anybody looking into his cell, it would have looked like a sweet moment, two lovers, sharing their affection between each other.

But it wasn't that. You spoke of Rome, of a dream that had died when Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla took power. The dream of Lucilla's father, of Lucilla. You didn't mention her name in front of Hanno, didn't mention the wife of the general.

Hanno echoed back your thoughts. He, a man from Numidia, had the same dream of Rome. A free Rome, a Rome for the people.

"You speak such fantasies," you whispered as you laid down on his bed, forced to lay against each other by the size of it. "You speak of it like you how great Rome can be."

He let his arms wrap around you, pull you close so that you weren't hanging from the edge of the bed. A more comfortable way to lay, that was how the both of you justified it to yourselves. He moved closer and you realised why when he started speaking. So quietly, you wouldn't have been able to hear it if his lips weren't pressed against your ear.

"I am from Numidia, yes, but I was not born there," he said to you, lips kissing your ear with every word.

Hanno gave you no more information. But you took in his words, a secret you would keep close to your chest. He brushed your hair back, laying your head down on his bicep. "Sleep now," he said to you, and you shut your eyes.

But you didn't sleep right away. "Hanno?" You whispered, shuffling closer to him. You opened your eyes as he grunted, meeting the one eye he had open to look at you. "What will you do once you are a free man?"

Hanno let his eye fall shut and furrowed his brow. "The Colosseum does not lead to freedom. I will die in there, killed by another man or worn down by exhaustion, struck down by an infected wound or a disease."

You felt yourself deflate, your hand on his bare chest. "I do not wish that for you." His lack of response, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your fingertips left you to believe that he had fallen asleep.

***

You were not there, not in his house. Not in the palace, either. Wherever you were, your father just had to hope that you were safe.

General Acacius was doing this for his wife. He didn't want you mixed up in it. There was no telling what the Emperors would do to you if they found out what Acacius was doing.

He prayed to the Gods before he set off to the Colosseum, his most loyal men following him. Cloaked and under the cover of darkness, they rode to the Colosseum. Acacius was privy to the Emperor's plans for their praetorians, where they were stationed.

It should have been safe.

His men surrounded him as they marched into the Colosseum, holding their torches high. They walked through the stone corridor, heading towards the gladiators sleeping quarters. He didn't know that you were there, sleeping soundly against the gladiator that had tried to kill him.

Suddenly, his men dropped, arrows embedded into their necks. Their arrows hit their marks, leaving only the General Acacius standing.

No.

The Emperor's guards were not supposed to be here. This wasn't right. How could they have known about a plan hushed between husband and wife?

A guard used his sword to push the hot from Acacius's head, revealing his face. He kept a look of defiance on his face has he stared at the guard. But inside, he was screaming.

Somebody had betrayed them. Because of that, he was going to lose everything. His wife, his co-conspirator, would be punished in much the same way he would be. Death.

You were innocent in all of this. You didn't know what Lucilla and your father had been planning, yet the Emperor's would punish you. Punish you to hurt him one last time before he was put to death.

Your life at risk because of him. He would never forgive himself.

a/n: i'm hoping to do just one more part for this mini series, but I am loving it, i must admit - also, do i change my blog theme to lucius?

taglist:

@barcelonaloverf1life

@lefroggie

@tsunchani

@bxm-1012

@nicolebarnes

@whoopie6995

@shelbyteller

@saragrx

@ariesandwolves

@biapascal

@rrrrussosstuff

#lucius verus #lucius verus x reader #lucius verus imagine #lucius verus x fem!reader #lucius verus aurelius #lucius verus aurelius imagine #gladiator movie #lucius verus x you #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius

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thinkinonsense · 20 days ago

Note

What about Logan watching reader get themselves off on Logan's pillow? Like he could be holding a glass of whiskey, telling her to keep going when she complains it's too much?

-pillow talk.

cw: pillow riding, f masturbation, dom!logan but also sweet!logan

a/n: adding this as a bonus to sweet temptations :)

all day you've been so needy. craving logan's touch after long hours working in the lab, but tonight he's out on a mission with storm and scott. unsure on when he will be back, you go to his room to wait.

logan's sheets smell like he's never left. the perfect mix of cigar smoke and whiskey could make you arch your back. despite your original intentions of reading in his bed until he return, it didn't take you too long to strip yourself of your clothes and straddle one of his pillows in between your thighs.

meanwhile, downstairs logan pours himself a glass of whiskey to celebrate a successful mission. he checks the common room to see if you were in there but hank mentioned how you'd gone to back upstairs for the evening.

as he walked down the hallway, he could already smell you. logan carefully opens the door to see your naked back facing him as you rock your hips against his pillow. watching the scene in front of him play out makes him harder by the second.

you whimper, spreading your slick back and forth until the seam of the pillow, coating it in your arousal. too fucked out by your own rhythm to notice logan's presence in the room, not that he minded. he knew if you saw him watching you, you would shy away in embarrassment.

this way he can pay attention to every little thing that makes you tick. eyes screwed shut, lips parted, and eyebrows scrunched with pleasure. he'd never seen someone look so angelic.

"ah-fuck!" you moan as logan's big rough palm smacks your ass sharply. you turn back to look at him and feel yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

logan stands tall behind you, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and your ass cheek in the other, rubbing the tender skin. a lit cigar dangles from his kissable lips deliciously.

"look 'atcha doll..." he teases. "putting on a little show for me, huh?"

you stare up at logan like a puppy watching their owner dangle a treat in front of them.

"p-please, lo..." you whine, eyes watering with tears. "make the ache go away."

logan feels torn. on one hand he loves being the one to make you unravel but on the other hand, he wants to see how you managed to get yourself off before coming to him for help.

instead of answering, logan leaves you exactly where you are and sits down on the chair in the corner of his room.

"i'll help ya'... once i finish my drink." logan says.

you let out a soft groan, tilting your head back a little. as much as you want to beg him, the need to be his behaved good girl was stronger.

"l-logan..." your quiet whimper pulls him from his trance. "want you c-closer, please."

he gives in, bringing the chair to the edge of the bed and nursing his drink. you catch him off guard again when you reach for his hand on the mattress, squeezing hard as you chase after your orgasm. the small gesture almost makes him forget how filthy this scene looks.

"atta girl." he praises, letting you grip his hand as hard as you can while his other hand gropes your breast. "cum for me, sweetheart. i know you can do it."

logan's words were enough to tip you over the edge. broken moans spill out like a prayer. red puffy, tear stained cheeks. he tries his best to sooth them over with his thumb pad as you come down from your high.

"good job, baby." he smiles as you collapse forward on top of him.

you hum, snuggling up to him now. more relaxed than before.

"want ya' reward now?"

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iluvmattsbeard · 4 months ago

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down on my knees (m.s)

master list

nerd!matt x popular!reader

warnings: smut/oral sex (fem receiving)

preview: you assume matt is what he appears to be. a virgin nerd with no experience. when helping you study, you have him down on his knees, pleading to prove to you, he can take you there.

a/n: sorry i watched deadpool and wolverine. this song with the scene had me creaming. listen as you read. OKAY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED. 🤍

everyone knew who you were. when your name is spoken, it's always the same thing said. you basically had a trance on everyone, especially a specific individual. this person would freeze up more than anyone else when you're around. the hold you have on this person is unbearable, even though you've never spoke to each other. the school's biggest nerd and easy target, Matt Sturniolo. it was no shock you haven't spoke to him. you never even blinked an eye at him. you two were in two different worlds, you had no business ever speaking to him and he for sure felt like he had no place to even be near you.

it's not like you choose to not know who he is. he doesn't put himself out there, he has no friends, and he's always just quiet. the only friends he had were his triplet brothers. you knew who Chris was because of his reputation in sports and you knew Nick because he was the talk of the school ever since he came out. like mentioned, Matt was absolutely hooked onto you. when you would enter the classroom, he feels his palms sweat and his eyes are glued onto you like he's seen an angel from heaven.

despite what everyone says about you, how mean, how stuck up, and how careless you can be, in his head, you're more than that. he blocks out all the negativity said about you and in his head, he has some delusion that he could figure you out. he feels deep down, there's more to you than your rough persona.

right now, it was lunch time. Matt is sat with his brothers and their friends. Chris and Nick, despite how different they are from Matt, they've always vowed to never let Matt be alone. they try to include him in everything but, he chooses to sit there in silence. he knew deep down he didn't fit in and it's obvious his brothers' friends also knew that.

he sits there quietly as he pokes at his food. his attention is soon caught, it's like he has a radar, he looks up slightly as you walk past their table. you were with your friends, talking to them as you head over to your table. for Matt, it was all in slow motion as you walked by. he swears he can see your skin glisten and the way your hair bounced, he was in a trance. "dude." he instantly gets brought back to reality when he hears Chris' voice, "you're staring- again." Matt looks back down at his food as he swallows slightly, "was I?" he asks quietly, a bit embarrassed he's been caught. this wasn't the first time though.

"yes. what is your obsession with her? you've never even spoke to her." Chris utters with a bit of food in his mouth. Matt looks at him with a bit of disgust, "can you swallow your food first?" Matt suggests, which makes Chris chuckle and swallow his food. "okay well, what is your obsession with her?" he repeats his question, "you've never talked to her and trust me, she's way out of your league." he adds on, making Matt tense up a bit. it was true, he really didn't belong in your world. it would make no sense, the two of you colliding. "i'd save yourself the heart break." Chris speaks up again.

"how would you know?" Matt mutters, making the brother raise an eyebrow slightly, "how do I know what?" he asks confused. "how do you know she would break my heart? if I haven't even tried?" Matt asks stupidly. he knew the answer already but once again, a little part of him believes he could break down your walls if he just had the confidence. Chris laughs at his question, "no offence but, look at you." he pauses glancing over at me, "now look at her. she would crush you." he finishes as he stuffs his mouth again. there was no point in Matt continuing this conversation. Matt looks over at you and sighs. "heaven help me." he thought to himself.

later that day, Matt walks into his final class, which to his delight, you were in. he makes his way to the back of the class, sitting down in his usual seat. he begins to take out his notebook and textbook as he lets out a quiet breath. you walk in, once again, Matt's eyes land on you and he blocks out everything else. as he watches your every move, he expects you to just walk to your usual seat in the front. he then sees you walk down his aisle, he swears he's just imagining things. you're looking right at him, making his heart stop. eventually, he gets knocked from his trance as you sit in the seat next to him.

"no one sits here right?" you ask Matt, not even looking over at him. he gulps as he begins to speak up, "n-no." he manages to let out. Matt shuts his eyes and turns to face the front. he feels like he sounded like a loser. you sit there silently as you secretly go on your phone while the class starts. Matt can't help but take small glances at you. he felt nervous even though you were just minding your own business. "what is going on?" he thought to himself. why were you suddenly sitting in the back? right next to him? he shakes off the questions as he tries his best to focus on the teacher's voice.

as days go by, Matt notices you continuing to choose to sit in the back, right next to him. it was like a dream but, still no words exchanged between you two but the first day you sat there. where he thought he sounded like an idiot, even though all he said was no to your question. Matt sits there quietly, he notices you dozed off into your arms as the teacher speaks. he can’t help but look at you in admiration. you looked peaceful; sleeping angel like. you flutter your eyes open, catching his gaze as you whisper groggily, "were you just watching me sleep?" you ask sitting up. his eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "what- no- I was just- nervous for you." he lets out panicked. you laugh quietly while you shake your head, "relax, it was just a question." you say surprisingly okay with catching him just now.

Matt feels his heart racing as he lets out an exhale of relief. "did I miss anything important?" you ask looking at him. was this really happening? were you really actually trying to have a conversation with him? "u-uh... not really." he mutters nervously. "okay that's good. i'm like very behind in this class." you say which, it's like the teacher heard you, the teacher speaks up, "Y/n, Matt, I need to talk to you both at the end of the class." Mr. Lionel says. you groan quietly before speaking up, "okay..." Matt's head is racing. why did he have to speak to the both of you? the BOTH of you...

when the final bell rings, you and Matt get up at the same time, heading over to the front of the class. you both stop in front of Mr. Lionel's desk as you let out a sigh, "what's it about?" you ask not enthused at all. he clears his throat, "well, Y/n, i'm sure you're aware that your grade in this class isn't the best." he starts off, "Matt here, can help you bring that grade up if you're willing." you look over at Matt, your eyes trailing down his figure slowly. he gulps as he watches you analyze him, "what is she thinking?" he thought to himself.

you look back at your teacher before nodding and speaking up, "alright." if Matt's heart was racing before, it is now bouncing off the walls. alright? that's all you had to say? no argument?

Mr. Lionel looks over at Matt, "you okay with that Matt?" he asks, snapping him back to reality, "what? uh- y-yeah." Matt responds sheepishly, his cheeks a bit flustered. "great. you two speak to each other and come up with an arrangement that's good for the both of you." the teacher says, making you both nod. he greets you and Matt goodbye, Matt instantly walking out the classroom. he can't believe he was just assigned to tutor you, and YOU agreed. he continues walking down the hall before he hears his name being called.

"Matt!" he turns around quickly before locking eyes on you, heading over to catch up to him. he freezes in his place as he stutters out, "y-yeah?" he feels like his heart can't catch a break. "you want to come over tonight?" you ask so casually. meanwhile, Matt feels like he's about to explode. "w-what?" he asks a bit dazed. "to study." you add on with a small laugh. he blinks repeatedly before having the courage to respond, "yes!" he clears his throat, "yes... I would like that." he says, trying to push down his eagerness. "okay. give me your phone." you say, no question, he instantly pulls out his phone, fumbling a bit before he hands it to you.

you type in your number and send yourself a text so that you can receive his number as well. you hand back his phone before pulling out your own, "alright i'll text you the address. come over at like 5. that's when my parents aren't home." you say making him choke up, "w-what?" Matt asks nervously but you just wave at him and walk away.

as he gets in his car, he sits there still in disbelief. it's like his prayers have been answered. he also doesn't want to get his hopes up though. it's just tutoring, right? he's still confused by why you wanted him there without your parents home. it made his heart race once more. he gets pulled out from his thoughts as Chris and Nick stumble into the mini van. Matt clears his throat as he puts on his seat belt, "can you drive me to the mall later?" Chris asks as he puts on his own seat belt. "can't." Matt says bluntly, his younger brother's eyes widening slightly, "what- why?" he asks caught off guard. "i'm going to tutor someone later." Matt says, sparing the details but, that's all Chris had to know to not question even further. it's no surprise to him that Matt has to tutor someone. Matt was the smartest person he knew.

*time skip*

after spraying some cologne on himself, he walks out his room and out the house. when he's settled into the driver's seat, he pulls out his phone and puts your address into the GPS. he was still replaying your words earlier about how your parents would be out. his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as he makes his way to your house.

when he's arrived, he takes the key out of the ignition. he lets out a small sigh, his heart pounding at the fact he's actually about to be with you, alone. he gets out the car and makes his way up your pathway. he rings the doorbell, waiting anxiously as he looks around. nice house he thought to himself. after a bit, you open the door. Matt's eyes immediately running down your figure. you were in a matching pajama set. his heart stops, he was now feeling self conscious at the fact he's wearing a button up shirt. "hey, come in." you say as you open the door more for him to walk in. he steps inside nervously as he looks around. "come, my room is upstairs." you speak, already heading up the stairs. he follows closely behind you.

*time skip*

you both have been sat on your bed as you lay on your stomach, flipping through the text book. "s-so... do you understand it?" Matt asks, hoping he's done a good job at explaining the subject. you look at him with a blank expression, "no." you let out bluntly, a small laugh following afterwards. "o-oh well- I can explain it again-." he gets cut off by you, "no it's fine. this is hopeless." you sigh softly, closing your text book. "my brain hurts." you add on. Matt sits there, tensing up a bit as he clears his throat, "oh- w-well... maybe some other time." he says closing his text book. you two have been going over the subject for like a hour.

"you're leaving?" you ask curiously. Matt looks at you as he stuffs his textbook into his bag, "um... well I was assuming you were done..." he admits quietly. "oh I just thought we were taking a break." you chuckle, "but alright." he straightens up as he quickly chimes in, "oh that works too." not wanting to leave just yet. you sit up, now legs crossed as you look at him, "so... why did you want me over while your parents are gone?" he asks, gulping a bit. "no distractions." you respond casually. he was amazed by how easily you can speak. he feels like he has a lump in his throat. "do you always wear those button up shirts to tutor?" you ask tilting your head a bit. "uh... no- but- I just wanted to wear something nice." he stutters out nervously. did you think it was bad? your eyes trail over his shirt, "it's nice. suits you." you compliment. he didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. "dressing up for me or something?" you ask. "u-uh well- kind of- yes..." he sighs in defeat.

"that's sweet." you say with no emotion in your voice. "did you think this was going to go somewhere?" you ask bluntly. his eyes widen a bit, "what? what's that supposed to mean?" he asks a bit startled. "like were you expecting something out of this?" you ask, "like a handy or a blowjob or what?" the question makes his eyes widen even more, "what? of course not!" he responds panicked, "t-that's not- I- I wasn't even thinking that." he says flustered. you chuckle softly, "i'm just messing with you." you say before going on your phone, "you don't even seem like the type." you conclude. he's caught off guard, "w-what's that supposed to mean?" he asks. you look up from your phone and meet his gaze, "you don't seem like the type to do that stuff. I mean-" you pause putting your phone down, "do you even have experience?" you ask. "well... not exactly..." he admits embarrassed by the confession.

"see? I knew it." you let out a small humorous scoff. "I-I guess I just haven't had the time..." he says, trying to seem like he's too busy to gain experience, and not because he's a total loser. you raise an eyebrow slightly, "oh so it's not by choice?" you ask, not really believing it as you stand up and put your textbook back into your bag. he stays quiet for a bit before speaking up, "yeah no... just too busy for it..." he says quietly. you let out a small snark with a small grin, "yeah okay." you respond still not buying it. Matt has this sudden urge to fight back, he also knew you weren't buying it so he makes a move he never expected to make, "I mean I have the time now." he utters, making him widen his eyes a bit. you look up at him as you tilt your head slightly, "oh so you did come here expecting something." you say, crossing your arms. "no! no... but- forget it." he mumbles embarrassed as he picks up his bag.

you sit at the edge of the bed as you speak up, "no. go ahead. since you have time." you say, not having very high expectations. he freezes in his spot as he looks at you, "w-what?" he asks with his heart pounding. "you heard me." you say, propping your arms back behind you slightly. he puts his bag down slowly as he steps in front of you. he looks down at you as you tilt your head a bit. you blink up at him, waiting for his move, not amused. Matt then slowly gets on his knees, your eyes follow him, now looking down at him. he places his hands nervously on the waistband of your pajama shorts. he looks up at you and back down at his hands as he begins to slide your shorts down slowly, revealing your white lace panties. his breath hitches in his throat as he continues to pull them down your silky legs, now leaving you in just your panties. he takes a moment to admire you in front of him as he begins to kiss your inner thighs slowly and softly, making you roll your eyes a bit at how slow he's being. he then trails those kisses up, placing a soft kiss on your clothed cunt, your eyes watching him closely. he then kisses up your stomach, his face now stopped in front of your face.

he swallows before placing his lips onto yours, everything was slow and you kiss him back. after a bit, you pull away, "okay um. I don't think this is going to work." you say about to sit up completely but he stops you. he gets back onto his knees, now yanking your panties down. you gasp slightly by the sudden action as he takes in the sight of you bare. he grips under your thighs as he pulls you closer to his face. your heart begins to race by his sudden anticipation and change of demeanor. his mouth was so close to your core, you can feel his breath against it. Matt gulps as he glances up at you, then looking back down at your folds. "heaven help me." he thinks to himself before diving his tongue into you. at first, you weren't feeling it, you sort of felt bad for his lack of experience but then, he begins to suck on your clit, making you sit up and look down at him. your mouth slowly falling open, surprised by his action. he continues to suck on your clit, you feel yourself getting wet as he works his mouth. your breath began to hitch as he ran his tongue up your now slick folds.

he flattens out his tongue, continuing his upward motion. you gasp softly, quickly biting your lip. you didn't expect to be enjoying this. he darts his tongue in and out of your entrance, making you moan out a bit louder than you expected. he looks up at you as he melts against your wet folds. he watches as you crumble above him. he swirls his tongue around your clit, making you throw your head back at the sensation, "M-Matt." you moan out. the sound of his name rolling of your tongue made him go insane. the way you moan, it was like an angelic sound in his ears. he moves his tongue against your clit, side to side as you gasp, gripping his hair with your eyes shut. he begins to suck on your slit again as he unexpectedly pushes a finger into you. "f-fuck!" you moan out as he pumps his finger, while still sucking on your clit. his eyes still on you, he knows he's doing this right.

you buck your hips up slightly, starting to feel your legs shake a bit, you have never experienced pleasure like this before. Matt pulls his finger out of you as he grips your thighs, holding them in place roughly. you let out a small whimper. the feeling of his tongue was sort of overpowering. he groans against your folds, sending vibrations through out your body. his hands grip your thighs harder as he dives his mouth in deeper. he was completely in the moment, the taste of your juices on his tongue, making him want more and more. he continues darting his tongue into you, wet noises filling the room. "you're so wet." he mumbles against you, lapping his tongue up your folds. you grip his hair a bit harder as you continue to moan. you couldn't believe the school's biggest nerd is in between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

he then flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit as he looks up at you. you gasp once again, eyes darting down at him, "how was he so good at this?" you thought to yourself. he then pushes two fingers this time into you, catching you off guard. he pumps his slender fingers in and out at a quick motion as he swirls his tongue sloppily. you arch your back as you grip the sheets above you, "fuck Matt!" you moan loudly, making him ache in between your legs. this only drives him to go faster, pumping his fingers into you even faster as he sucks on your clit. the combination combines make your stomach swirl, "Matt i'm gonna-." you let out shakily as you arch your back even more, your eyes clenched shut, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as you experience the best orgasm you've ever had. you release all over his mouth as he keeps his mouth on you.

your legs shake as he continues to eat you out, despite you already releasing. he grips your thighs hard as he watches you shake uncontrollably under his touch. you swear you could now see stars as he groans against you once more. you push his head away as you look down at him in shock.

he licks his lips and his cheeks are flustered. you stare at him in disbelief as you try to catch up with your breathing. his eyes dart back down to your messy wet core as he looks back up at you, “h-how was that?” he asks shyly. “how could he act so shy after that?” you thought to yourself. he’s still on his knees as he waits for your response. it irritated you slightly at how much you enjoyed it, especially because you were so confident he would be terrible at it. when you finally calm down your breathing, you sit up and look down at him.

“what do you think?” you ask in disbelief. he feels his face heat up as he scratches the back of his neck, “uh…” he chuckles breathlessly, “good?” he questions. you push his glasses back up slowly as they were resting at the tip of his nose, “let’s just say, you are not what you seem.” you let out still in shock.

a/n: nerd matt has my heart.

tags! (comment if you want to be added)

@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nicksgirlfriend @mwahsturns @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24 @strnlxlqve @sturncakez @sturnioloremarker @3lizaluvs @lanaswifeyy @dirtylittleheart333 @luzsturniolo @sturnpooks @sturnioq @c6ina @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @sweetangelgirl7 @fratbrochrisgf @l0vergrlll @deadiish @dykes4chris @blahbel668 @sturnfannn @schlutt4matty @scarlett-or-wtv @suyqa @strtrckrz @sturniluvr @alexisxena @fratboychrisera @unhingedrobin @edgemaster696

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girlokwhatever · 6 months ago

Note

okokokok soooooooo bringing it back to battle of the blondes. let’s set the scene shall we? there’s a wnba event where all three are present and they’ve all interacted with reader separately(reader could be apart of the event or a media reporter). everyone’s blonde big 3 are raving about reader to each other (without realize it’s the same person) and when they find out they’re all talking about reader…..the battle begins (def might have to be a mini series but fs has potential)

thoughts? or prayers ig?

-🫧

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ battle of the blondes,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader, emily engstler x fem!reader, kate martin x fem!reader

*just gonna call reader peach bc i don’t want to make an oc, its used like twice for plot purposes.*

oh you’ve really done it now.

you’re attending a WNBA event, something pivotal that would launch your career to the next level if it went well, and you might ruin it for yourself just by the way you’re ogling some of the women.

three women in particular.

you really needed this to go well. like, really needed it. you were planning on becoming a social media manager for one of a few teams you’ve spoken to and you were using tonight to prove yourself. it’d been going really well and you captured such great content for a few different teams but as soon as you saw them, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. just looking at them made you nervous.

kate martin was the first one to approach you, smile wide with a toothy grin that made you blush. she was nervous.

she spotted you as soon as she walked into the space, easily recognizing you from some of the work you’ve done with the aces. she even heard talk that you’d be the new content manager, something she could only pray was true.

she found her way to you quickly. but as soon as you were within arms length and already smiling at her, she realized she had no idea what she was going to say to you. she had no plan, no cheesy pick-up line, and she definitely had zero chill.

“hi kate! you wanna film some content?”

yes. but not in the way you were talking about.

“i mean, should i? i don’t know, i just saw you and wanted to say hey.” oh god, she was definitely sweating through her undershirt.

“oh okay, well it’s good to see you. how’ve you been?”

kate moves closer to you now, leaning down slightly as you talk so she can hear you better. it’s so she can hear you, not because she wants to be as close to you as possible. definitely not. that’s why when her hand hovers over your spine, gently pressing into you it’s not a big deal because she just can’t hear you.

“oh y’know, i’ve been good. i haven’t seen you at any practices recently. i’ve missed you!” she’s saying it with a friendly tone, leaning down and fanning her breath over your ear. her words immediately make you blush, a silly smile spreading on your face. she never fails to flatter you.

“aw really? i’ve missed you too money martin.”

the blonde laughs and you physically feel it. it isn’t until her body shakes your own that you realized you’re leaning into one another. it immediately makes you freeze, eyes scanning the room for disapproving glances because you need to be on your best, most professional behavior.

you don’t find what you’re looking for, extremely thankful that everyone else’s attention is elsewhere. you push away from kate slightly, turning to stand in front of her. her hand reluctantly drops from your spine but her smile never falters because at least you’re still here.

“so.. i’ve heard some rumors you might be the new media manager for the aces?”

“oh yeah, well, i don’t know. i’ve been seeing a couple teams recently.”

“oh?” oh. it’s definitely not kate’s favorite news. she felt like she really bonded with you and she wanted to have you around more, but the lack of confirmation was a little disheartening. you were so talented; all of your photos looked amazing and everyone loved them. plus, you were a sight for sore eyes. really though, kate looked at you like you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. but that’s because you were.

“are you jealous that other teams get my attention too?” you joke, poking your finger on her shoulder gently.

kate’s blushing uncontrollably, turning the same shade as her red suit. she feels like her body might be on fire simply because of your playful teasing. she’s so fucking whipped.

“oh, i- i mean, no, of course not. like you’re great so y’know, i’ll miss you and stuff. yeah.” kate curses herself for stumbling over her words, red cheeks turning crimson. you laugh it off though, smiling that big smile you’re known so well for.

“i’m just messing with you kate. i still don’t know where i’ll end up, wish i could tell you.”

she’s about to say something else, maybe compliment your pretty dress or the way your hair is done but she can’t because someone is calling her name. she pretends like she can’t hear it and continues looking at you, but you’re already looking in the direction of the voice calling out to the blonde. kate internally groans, closing her eyes to roll them in annoyance.

“well, i’ll see you around katie. it was really nice getting to talk to you.”

katie. were you giving her a nickname? the simple thought erupts butterflies in her stomach like she’s never felt before. you make her feel like a love-struck teenager again.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll see ya.” she runs her hand down your arm, gently squeezing once she reaches your palm. it feels wildly intimate for your surface level friendship but kate wants you to know. she needs you to. she can’t even help herself anymore, looking back to smile at you as she disappears into the crowd.

you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’re at a work event, not a tinder date. a few more people approach you after that and vice-versa for some media photos and videos. you take pictures of breathtaking outfits, film funny videos and short interviews, and mingle with team management and owners.

you’re in the middle of conversation with a new york liberty media manager when you feel a familiar presence behind you, a gentle hand gliding over the small of your back.

emily engstler smiled at you as you turned away from the previous and forgotten conversation. you were immediately at ease just by looking at her, pulling her into a swift embrace.

“oh my god emily, it’s so good to see you.”

“i could say the same. there’s so many people here i’m glad i spotted you.”

emily was part of the team you’d been working with the past few weeks, filming videos and pictures of the washington mystics players to put up on their social media. you two bonded very easily and quickly and it made your job much more fun, so you really grew a keen liking for her.

she felt the same, maybe a little something more than friendly though.

“how are you? having fun?”

“oh yeah, loads of fun. everyone is so sweet.” it wasn’t a lie; other than the soft but increased patter of your heart because of how good she looked, you were doing great.

“yeah? i’m glad. you look really nice by the way. i’ve never seen you dressed up like this.”

“i could say the same about you. i’m so used to seeing you all sweaty, this is a big difference.”

on the surface emily is calm and collected. she laughs lightly at your comment because it’s true, but it also leaves her a little flustered because hopefully no one heard that out of context. but a tiny part of her hopes someone did.

“do you want me to snap some pictures of you in your suit?” you offer, pointing to the camera resting around your neck.

now she’s even more flustered. she nods and moves to stand against the wall, giving you her best model-level smile as you take her picture. when you show her the pictures she almost cringes at how noticeably flushed she is. it’s all because of you and your cute dress and your even cuter smile-

“are you alright em?”

em. fuck. she’s totally done for as soon as you utter the nickname. it’s not even anything special, everyone fucking calls her that. but it sounds different coming from you. it doesn’t help that you grip her bicep just hard enough to make her a little dizzy.

“oh yeah. can we retake those? i look like a tomato.”

“for sure. i’m sorry- i think i messed up the lighting setting on the camera or something.”

she poses again, flashing you that same breath-taking smile. her hands buries itself deep in her pocket to hide the clamminess.

you can’t help but adore her from behind your device. your eyes linger on her face, watching as her eyes trace your movements as you pull the camera away. she’s much more pleased with the results this time, leaning in to affirm your media skills. emily complimented you endlessly as you showed her shots from earlier in the day too, trying to navigate her way into your heart.

“so, do you know if you’re signing with the mystics or..?”

“oh, no i don’t, not for sure anyways. i don’t think i’m supposed to tell you this but it’s definitely been talked about with management and stuff. i think they really like me.”

“how could they not?”

emily tried to keep her spirits high and wandering mind positive. if you were signed with the mystics it’d make things a lot easier for emily. things like making very clear moves on you to a possible and eventual romantic relationship, something she was interested in having with you.

she watches you smile at her comment and it only warms her heart further. she noticed you do this thing when you smile and she absolutely fucking loves it- you always tilt your head a little to the left when you smile, shrugging sometimes when it’s because of a compliment. she watches you do it now, only admiration flooding her mind and body language.

“you gotta stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like that. it’s driving me crazy”

you almost go breathless because she’s making you so nervous- was she flirting? it was making your head spin and her cheeky smile doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

you’re about to reply with some nonsense but thankfully the moment saves you, a teammate of emily’s grabbing her attention.

“hey guys! emily c’mere, there’s someone from my college team i want you to meet.”

she reluctantly waves you goodbye as she vanishes back into the crowd of people that’s only grown since she arrived. now you’re left to stand on your own, still flustered by the tall blonde when another one walks towards you, hand gently coming down on your shoulder to grab your attention.

paige bueckers greeted you with a warm smile, a genuine one that reached to her eyes. your eyes went wide with excitement upon seeing her, a smile like her own painting your features excitedly.

“paige! i had no idea you’d be here.”

“y’know i had to show up to see my fav.”

you’d worked with her before, interning with uconn’s media team last year during your last year of college. she was growing to be a big star in college basketball so you worked with her a lot. it was always a fun time, especially since she’s so photogenic.

“i know you’re working with all the pro teams now but i still think you should come back to uconn for my last year.” she teases, squeezing your shoulder as a gentle reminder that she’s still there and still so close to you.

“oh yeah? you gonna win this year?”

“you already know.”

she shoves her hands in her pockets because she realized she can’t stop touching you. even on the retreat, her smirk is relentless and unwavering within your banter together. confidence exudes from her very being and it’s unbelievably attractive, at least she hopes it is.

she’s trying to swoon you.

“really though, what team are you gonna be working with by next year? i need to know where i’m gonna end up.”

you laugh at that, a beautiful laugh that sweeps through your whole body. it’s music to paige’s ears, face heating up at your reaction but she never falters. she’s smiling and laughing with you because your energy is contagious to her, intoxicating enough to where she’s okay with becoming an addict if it means she can be like this forever. with you.

“wouldn’t you like to know.”

“yeah i would actually.”

“can’t tell you.”

“why not?”

“because i don’t know. change of subject though, let me do my job and take some pictures of you.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.”

she confidently finds her way in front of the backdrop, posing in a way you can only describe as incredibly fucking hot. she switches her pose a few times and you capture a multitude of pictures from each moment, admiring her beauty and ease.

she swiftly finds her way back to you after a few moments, not able to deny the magnetic energy that keeps pulling her to you. as you show her some of the pictures her hand loops around your torso, pulling you out of the way of passersby, but also just so she can keep close to you.

it feels like it’s been ages since the draft, which is the last time paige saw you. she wants to soak you in now because she doesn’t know when she’ll see you again. the thought sends a pang through her heart but paige is absolutely determined to make a more.. official, move on you tonight. she pulls back to look at your face, cogs in her head turning to look for the perfect thing to say when someone whisks you away.

you bid your sweet, honey-laced farewell before you’re gone in a flash. paige understands, you’re here to work. she strolls away aimlessly, spotting a few familiar faces seated at a table in the distance.

that’s how the three blondes found themselves all at the same table, all gushing about the same person without a clue.

it started with paige talking to caitlin, who eventually dragged kate into the conversation alongside emily. paige talked about you, a nameless mention of the most beautiful girl ever. she gushed to the other blondes about how happy she was to see you again, how pretty you looked, and how sweet you acted.

“i didn’t get to talk to her for long unfortunately but im still so glad i got to see her. she’s so amazing.” paige spoke confidently, leaving your identity anonymous to the rest of the girls at the table. caitlin pushes kate teasingly at the topic, piping up to add to the conversation.

“kate’s little crush is here too. won’t stop talking about her.”

“uh yeah, i saw her when i first got here. i haven’t seen her since though, i think she’s really busy y’know.” kate’s blushing, nowhere in her nightly plans did she intended to spill her guts to everyone about her massive crush on you.

“oh yeah kate, keep it modest. don’t tell them what you told me, about how pretty she looks and how talented she is and how her hair is up so nicely in a cute little half updo-”

“dude!”

“fine, fine.” caitlin’s eyes drift to the other blonde across the table, motioning to her, “what about you? anyone special here tonight?”

emily nervously clears her throat and sinks into the chair. she can’t help but smile at the simple thought of you. the word vomit comes immediately and she can’t even help it.

“oh yeah. i mean, i guess. i’ve kinda liked her for a little while and i got to talk to her earlier. she’s really cool. bro, she’s got this thing she does when she smiles- i swear it’s gonna kill me someday. i’m fucking whipped.”

“same.”

kate and paige speak in unison, almost alarmingly. caitlin’s eyes flicker between her friends, then to aaliyah as she approaches the table. she occupies the space between emily and paige, grabbing the shoulders of both her former and current teammate.

“paige did you see peach?”

“yeah, i talked to her a little while ago.”

“did you, emily?”

“yeah i did.”

liyah winks at emily, knowing of the crush her teammate has for her friend. it makes emily blush which immediately catches paige’s eye- it’d be impossible to miss emily’s big smile at the mention of your famous nickname shared between close friends. kate doesn’t catch on, too embarrassed from caitlin’s intrusive speech to think properly.

“wait, what was that?” paige is quick to question, wanting nothing more than for her suspicions to be proven wrong.

“nothing?”

“oh my god.” caitlin breaks through the short silence. she’s pieced it all together. caitlin throws her head back in laughter almost manically because, this drama is too fucking good.

“what?” kate asks, confused as to why everyone looks so concerned.

“you guys all have a crush on the same person.”

everyone’s eyes widen; in fear, horror, shock, jealousy, disbelief, you name it. paige finds you amongst the crowd talking to a woman and can’t help but feel possessive over you. you’re hers. a similar thought seems to run through the other two blondes as well. they all grimace, faces turning sour with discontent.

“wait, you guys have a crush on peach too?” kate doesn’t even want to know the answer, heart sinking past the floor when the other blondes nod in confirmation. she wants to throw up, but more than that she wants to find you and confess her admiration towards you in hopes that you feel the same.

she has to get to you before the others.

she stands up and darts across the room as casually as possible. caitlin watches in shock because she’s never seen her close friend act this way, but there’s a first for everything.

“fuck.” paige mutters, pushing away from the table to follow kate’s trail to you. emily does the same. all the blondes have departed from their previous spots, now only concerned with the trivial task of finding you and getting you alone.

it’s no use though, all immediately arriving within the same second. your attention is inevitably drawn to all three of them as they stand before you with pleading eyes.

“guys? is everything alright?”

“no.” kate mutters, eyes shamelessly wandering over your figure with her bottom lip pulled snugly between her teeth.

“what’s.. what’s going on?”

everyone is silent, glancing around at one another before paige bravely breaks the stale silence. “we all like you peach. a lot. basically, you need to pick one. if any of us.”

“oh.”

˚ ༘♡🍓⋆｡˚🏀✧˖°🌼ʚɞ♡🍀

this was 3.1k words…. my longest fic

i really hope it lives up to the hype 😣

yall need to tell me who you want peach to end up with……. maybe all?! 😏

also this long ass fic is not spell checked

1K notes · View notes

lalunanymph · 2 months ago

Text

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. STOLE MY HEART (AND MY PANTIES) ♡

✧₊⁺ SUMMARY when your panties go missing like clockwork every wednesday, there's only one possible explanation...

✧₊⁺ WARNINGS fem!reader, panty stealing, jerking off, perv!caleb nation rise up, male masturbation, oral sex, pseudo-stepcest (for like, the first scenes), use of gege, use of mei mei, almost getting caught, semi-public sex, against the wall sex, closet sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, petnames (princess, pipsqueak, beautiful girl), caleb huge cock agenda, repressed emotions, angst if you squint, mdni, 18+, do let me know if i missed any warnings !!

✧₊⁺ DAWN SAYS oh my god here it is.... caleb debut we up!! this was the product of horny from the caleb gc and i have to thank everyone for fuelling this piece with sm thots (no prayers) ily all caleb fawkers <3 writing this took like 5 years from me (dying from the horny) so please enjoy and do let me know what you think <3

✧₊⁺ x/twt

Caleb knew this was wrong.

He knew with every fiber of his being that what he was doing was completely, irrevocably and utterly wrong.

And yet, he couldn't stop himself. It was like an addiction.

You were like an addiction.

It started with one missing pair.

In your defense, work had been pushing you too hard, and whatever spare time you could muster was dedicated to rotting on the couch. You would wave him off whenever he offered to do the laundry with a distracted,

"Sure. Thanks, Caleb."

He didn't mind. Of course, he didn't. If only he could use this chance to get what he wanted—your favorite pair of lacy panties.

It was a gorgeous pair. Black lace, with a little bow in the front, slightly crumpled from being wrapped around your hips all day, and if he really locked in, he swore he could feel the remnants of your body heat still pressed between the lacy crevices.

But, that wasn't the best part.

The best part was the little wet spot right on the innocuous fabric. A spot which he would press his nose into and inhale; flick out his tongue and run it along the seam, swearing he could taste your musk in his mouth.

That's funny, you commented one day, shooting him a look of confusion. Did you see where my underwear went?

And he would shrug, giving you a teasing look. "Maybe the washing machine ate it, Pipsqueak."

You frowned, wondering if he was pulling your leg. A day later, you found it crumpled and still damp in the back of the washing machine, and shrugged. Maybe Caleb forgot about it.

You had no idea how he had wrapped that delicate scrap of last around the base of his cock last night and was jerking off thinking about the face you’d make once he sank balls deep inside of you. How he had his sleep shirt stuck between his teeth, sweat bulleting down his toned chest and forehead, furiously jacking off his raw cock with the little lacy number stuffed in his fist. Imagining it was you—your cries, your moans, your sighs echoing right in his ear as you rode him.

The guilt hit him immediately after that and he tried his best to scrub his seed from your panties, crumpling it up and tossing it into the back of the washing machine like he had forgotten to take it out.

And so, the cycle continued.

Every laundry day, you'd find one pair missing, only to show up inconspicuously in the back of the washing machine. You were starting to see a pattern: this only happened when Caleb was on laundry duty.

You weren't as stupid as he thought you were. And you had to admit, the thought of Caleb taking your panties, doing God knows what he did with them, stirred a curious flicker of heat in your belly.

It was on a random Wednesday night when grandma was out for a dinner that you decided to make your move. You hid behind the pillar as you watched your childhood friend doing laundry, keeping your eyes peeled on his every movement.

Caleb looked good tonight. He had just come back from a gym session, face flushed, muscles swollen and pumped. He was shirtless, bare chest glistening, the military tag with the apple charm you gave him dangling from his neck. A pair of headphones muted him from your silent observations, letting you stalk him in peace.

Like the proverbial forbidden fruit, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You had no idea what to make of these new... feelings... you've developed for him, but you sure as hell didn't want to waste an opportunity to catch him in the middle of your suspicions.

And, there it was. A flick of his wrist that was quicker than the speed of light thanks to his Evol—but, you caught it all the same.

Your panties flew from the laundry basket and into his sweatpants pocket, where he stuffed his fist inside to jam it down further.

You wanted to call him out, corner him and ask what he was doing with your intimate undergarments.

But, you kept quiet, letting him go about his work.

It was only at night when you gathered the courage to confront him, standing right at the front of his bedroom door. You raised your fist to knock, but to your surprise, the door was cracked ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the darkened hallway.

Cautiously, you stepped inside his room, immediately hit with the sounds of his low grunts and moans.

With his back to you, Caleb was sitting on the edge of the bed, pumping his cock with something held tightly in his fist. Light as a cat, you slunk into the room, taking him off guard by your sudden appearance by his side.

"Ah!" He squeaked and whipped his head around, looking wildly from the wide open door to your curious expression. "How did you—what did you—why're you here?!"

You pointed at the door with a lazy flick of your wrist. "You left it open, dummy."

His huffs and groans fell on deaf ears as your gaze landed on a familiar scrap of lace in his hand. "I knew it..."

Before he could defend himself, you snatched his fist, dragging it closer to your face as you forced him to reveal the truth to you. To your surprise, he didn't resist, letting you open his clenched fist as his free hand tugged his cock back under the band of his sweatpants. The highpoints of his cheeks were dusted with pink, and honestly looked like he was about to break into tears at your next words.

"I had my suspicions all along... but, this is all I needed to know."

Caleb was breathing hard, his bare chest flushed with shame and embarrassment. He couldn’t look you in the eye, the welling guilt overflowing through his stammers and stuttering words.

"Look, I can explain—I-I... that is to say—it wasn't my intention... I didn't mean to..."

The words tangled in his mouth, losing steam once he realized there was no going back from this. A huge boundary and line had been crossed, and it was going to take more than an apology to get back into your good graces.

He ran a hand through his mused hair, licking his swollen lips. Caleb couldn't fathom what was in your gaze—whether it was disgust, anger or something else entirely.

But, what he couldn’t deny was how your eyes flickered right to the bulge straining in his pants, the dot of pre staining the front from hastily hiding his arousal from your glare.

What is this feeling inside of me? You thought as you slowly approached him, your panties fisted tightly in your hand. Why am I not yelling at him? Or, scolding him?

In fact, why were you looking at him like you wanted him to… continue?

Caleb’s expression morphed from mortification to curiosity, and he gazed at you as you approached him, arms crossed in front of your body. He opened his mouth, intending to say something, when you tossed your lace panties right on the seat of his lap.

“Go on.”

Two words. Caleb’s brain felt like it was malfunctioning.

“What… wh-what do you mean—?” He trailed off, falling mute at the fire dancing behind your eyes. He tried hard not to gape when you sat down next to him, observing him like he was a bug under a microscope, scrutiny heavy in your silence.

Whatever shred of logic he had left disappeared the second you gave him your consent. Caleb slowly tugged down his sweatpants, letting his half-hard cock spring free. He grasped the base of his girth, keeping his gaze locked on yours, gauging your reaction. Your blank face gave nothing away, and he took a deep breath, suddenly wondering if he would be able to perform under pressure… so to speak.

“Touch yourself for me… gege.”

Your sweet tone, coupled with his honorific, made his cock twitch, coming back to life. Caleb gritted his teeth, wanting to stop himself from jacking off, but unable to deny how your command was making him feel.

He was hot all over, goosebumps rising on his skin. Biting back a low moan, he picked up where he left off, his movements a bit stiffer and shy.

Surprising him, you leaned forward, wrapping your palm around his fingers, helping him move his slick fist up and down, increasing the pressure.

“Holy—slow down,” he cursed under his breath, glancing at you with burning, violet eyes. “It’s not some j-joystick, Pipsqueak—mhmph.”

Caleb thought he was hallucinating your lips on his, but when his eyes fluttered shut and your taste permeated your mouth, he was acutely aware of how close you were. You tasted like strawberries, your soft lips drawing him in deeper till he was close to drowning. Ragged gasps and breaths echoed between the space where your mouths were connected by a single strand of spit.

His cheeks were hotter than two suns, stomach doing a flip when he felt you gripping his wrist, quickening his movements.

“So, this is where all my panties went,” you murmured, gaze half-lidded and eyes dark with desire.

Caleb felt like someone had punched him right in the gut when you planted your lips on his throat, sucking your claim onto his skin. He tipped his head back to give you more access to his neck, groaning out your name.

I’m dreaming, he thought. There is no way in hell this is happening.

But, it was. You were here, right in the flesh. Close was never close enough for you when you clambered onto his lap, taking over from his flustered movements to jack him off.

“You’re disgusting, Caleb,” you purred, lips swollen from his kisses.

He gasped when you twisted your wrist, the rough material of your lace panties chafing his cock in the best way.

“Absolutely… repulsive.” You marked each word with heated puffs in the crook of his neck, running your tongue over the ridge of his jaw. “Using your mei mei’s panties like this to get yourself off…”

Caleb gasped at the rough sensation of your tongue on his neck, never expecting you to tease him this boldly.

“That’s not—” he broke off in a whine when you started to slide your thumb over his leaking head. “... shit…” he hissed, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

“What’d you say?”

“... nothing…” Caleb exhaled shakily, knowing he could do nothing but let you have your way with him.

Circling his sensitive tip with your thumb, you teased him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you would say.”

But, for all your bravado, the slick pooling in the pair of panties you had on now was hard to ignore. The feeling of Caleb’s hulking, muscular figure trembling underneath your smaller one injected you with a dose of cockiness.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He hissed when you tugged on his girth, using your other hand to fondle his balls.

Shit. It was one thing to jerk himself off, but another to have the woman he loved doing it.

Caleb wasn’t even phased with the realization, his mind feeling like it was floating a million miles away. Lightheaded and overcome by awe, he thought this moment might’ve been a hallucination conjured up by his desperate wishes.

You, sitting on his lap, looking absolutely delicious and depraved, licking your lips as you milked him towards the biggest orgasm of his life.

His hips moved against his volition, snapping into yours. To his surprise, he felt you grinding down on him, reciprocating his actions. The fighter pilot was holding onto his dear life to not spill all over your hands, batting your insistent digits away, breathing heavily.

“N-no, Pipsqueak, hold on—”

He thought he had finally lost it when you got onto your knees, glancing up at him with wide, doe eyes. You unwrapped your lace panties from his cock like it was a depraved gift bow, tossing the delicate scrap to the ground. Caleb’s lashes brushed his cheekbones as he took in the sight of you on your knees, lips mere inches away from his throbbing cock. In a position he had envisioned you would be in since the first time he understood the meaning of lust.

“Come on,” he murmured, brows knitted. “Stop playing—”

His protests died the second you wrapped your lips around his swollen cockhead, lapping at his precum.

“Shhhiiit,” Caleb exhaled like a deflated tire, resisting the urge to sink his fingers in your hair and fuck your mouth.

While he was taking in the glorious moment of you sucking his dick, his keen ears picked up the sounds of footsteps outside the hallway. In a flash, he twitched his fingers, and his room door went slamming shut.

“... Caleb?”

Josephine’s voice echoed from behind the door. Instead of freezing and getting off his cock like a normal person, you continued to suck him off, bobbing your head up and down his shiny, spit-soaked length. The soft gurgling of your throat taking his cock reached his heated ears and he cursed under his breath, hoping his grandmother of all people couldn’t hear your stupid stunt.

“Uh, yeah, grandma?”

He bit back a moan when he felt your tongue slide across the thick, bulging vein down the side of his cock, leaving whispery kisses over his length. He just about nearly spurted some pre right into your eye when grandma asked him, “Where’s Y/N?” and you unexpectedly deep throated him.

“A-ah, I have no idea!” His voice was higher-pitched than usual, those violet eyes boring right into yours, warning you to quit it without words.

“Caleb?” Josephine’s concern shone past the thick barrier.

His heart dropped into his stomach when he heard the door knock jangling. With a level of concentration he usually reserved for the field, not the bedroom, Caleb increased the pressure of his Evol to create a dense weight behind his door, barring her from entering.

“I don’t know where she is, Gran,” he called out, hoping he didn’t sound too strained. You breathed a laugh, mouth still full of his cock, and he shot you a glare.

“Are you alright?”

She refused to leave him alone, and Caleb cursed under his breath.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, trying his best to sound level-headed and not like he was getting the best head of his life.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and he had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from expelling an embarrassing moan.

Clearly still unconvinced, Josephine cleared her throat. “Okay, Caleb. Goodnight.”

You giggled softly when a drop of pre hit the back of your throat, lapping up the bitter-salty taste which was clearly a sign of his growing excitement from something so taboo and wrong.

“Okay… night, Gran,” he mumbled in a strained tone.

Her footsteps shuffled away from the door, and Caleb was left with his full attention on you.

“You feisty little vixen,” he groaned, leaning back on his arms to enjoy the sight of you down the line of his body.

As you continued to suck him off, Caleb’s breathing grew more unsteady, his bravado and confidence stripped away to be lapped up by your surprisingly talented mouth.

He wanted to ask you how’d you know to suck cock so well, but he thinks the answer would upset him.

In this moment, you were his and his alone. Screw the previous guys you were with—Caleb wants to be the only one you ever think about whenever you take dick.

Your cheeky tongue expertly swirls over his weeping tip, and he stifles down a loud groan.

“You’ll be the death of me, I swear.” He threaded his fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you took him deeper down your throat.

Mouth stuffed with him, you flicked your tongue over his heavy, leaking shaft and shot him a smirk.

Caleb’s breathing grew heavier, close to his finish line.

He gritted his teeth, giving you one last chance to back off before he made a mess in your pretty mouth.

“I’m close,” he whispered, knowing Gran would be in the other room, sound asleep.

You hummed, and to his delight and mortification, massaged his taint with your knuckles.

Holy… He bit out. “S-shit. You gotta show me the guy who’s been teaching you how to do t-this,” he stammered. “I need to beat him up.”

You giggled, letting him go with a soft ‘pop’, licking your swollen lips. It didn’t take much for him to spurt all over your hands, hot and thick, as you continued to fist his length and massage his weak point at the same time.

Caleb was breathing hard like he had just finished running a marathon, his entire body limp like jelly noodles. He sagged onto the bed, grunting softly when you shifted onto his body, straddling his lap.

Looking smug like the cat who got the cream, you traced a nail down his broad chest. Caleb caught your hand before it could move down to tease his spent dick, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss onto your knuckles instead.

“I think that’s enough exploration for now, Pipsqueak,” he muttered, chest still rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. You hummed and much to his fascination and consternation, lifted your cum-coated fingers to your mouth to suck them clean absent-mindedly.

Caleb’s dick twitched at the sight, coming back to life.

His blood pumped hard with the undeniable yearning and lust he’s had to deny himself for the longest time since he’d known what love meant.

He chuckled tiredly, and without much effort, straightened up, bringing you with him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Pipsqueak.”

Despite the fast track to this new development in your relationship, you were both still friends first. Banter, inside jokes and giggles filled the bathroom where he cleaned you up, intent to take care of you after you treated him so well.

As much as you thought things would be different, it felt like… nothing had changed at all.

Caleb didn’t speak of the night since it happened, going back to teasing smiles, hair ruffles and his brotherly brand of affection. If it weren’t for your missing panties from the laundry basket which happened every Wednesday like clockwork, you would’ve thought you hallucinated the entire ordeal with him.

You had no idea if you should confront him again. A part of you even wondered if he was embarrassed of the whole thing—if he wanted to pretend like the entire night hadn’t happened because he couldn’t stomach the thought of you. Shame and guilt paralyzed you from speaking about the whole ordeal, and you kept your head down, trying to avoid him if you could whenever he came back home after his training.

Since he was home for his summer holidays before returning back to the field, Caleb’s days back were limited. There was no rhyme or reason for you to pursue something so fragile, but a part of you couldn’t help but hope he would speak to you first.

“Y/N? Aren’t you going to finish your food?” Gran’s concerned tone broke you from your reverie and you shook your head, forcing a smile.

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, picking up your plate of untouched food and cutlery before stepping into the kitchen, almost bumping into Caleb.

“Whoa, Pipsqueak. You’re done already?”

You were never good at maintaining a poker face, so when he glanced at you, Caleb could tell something was wrong.

“Hey—”

You stepped away from him, plastering on a bright grin to hide the lapse of your emotions. “I already ate at work. I’m fine.”

Somehow, he wasn’t convinced. But, you didn’t give him a chance to ask how you were before you booked it back to your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it for extra measure. You were a grown woman now, and yet, this rejection from Caleb stung like you were a jilted teenager all over again.

Huffing, you almost forgot that tonight would be the night of his DAA Fundraiser Gala—a night where you agreed to accompany him as his plus one since Gran couldn’t make it.

It was one thing to see him again after practically finding out your childhood friend used your lacy undergarments as jerk off material, and it was another ballpark altogether to attend an event by his side, pretending to be his loving, younger sister while fighting off these strange emotions of love and heartbreak threatening to spill over.

Caleb could tell your heart wasn’t in it tonight when he pulled his bike in front of the Administration building where the Gala was in full swing.

The entire ride here, you hadn’t said a single word, your arms wrapped around him, but your mind felt like it was a million miles away.

Before you could step away from the bike and walk ahead to the front doors, Caleb caught up to you, grabbing your wrist.

“Hey. Can we… talk?”

He was stuttering, ears turning a bright red when you turned around with a little, “Hmm?”

The taller, older man hummed and hawed, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze bounced from your eyes to the floor, an exhausting yo-yo of unspoken words and desires.

“You… look beautiful.”

You glanced down at the simple black dress you chose for tonight, noting its lack of frills or embellishments. “You’ve seen me wear this dress a thousand times. It’s nothing special.”

Your callous disregard of his praise made him wince, and Caleb shook his head. “Pipsqueak, no. That’s not what I meant. I… I think you look beautiful tonight. As in you and not the dress.”

He trailed off and you held your breath, vain hope blooming in your chest at the sudden fondness glimmering in his eyes.

“You… mean that?”

He was about to open his mouth and reply when one of his subordinates clapped him on the back, effectively shooting this tenacious moment between you and Caleb down with a shattering bark of laughter.

“Captain Xia! You finally made it in time for the raffle.”

Caleb winced at the interruption, but mustered a grin, clasping his comrade on the shoulder. “I’ll see you inside, Ethan.”

The man named Ethan tipped his head towards you, a wiry shock of ginger curls falling right into his hazel eyes. “Evening, Miss Y/N. You look beautiful.” Not one to stick around after flirting his way through half of Skyhaven, Caleb’s colleague hightailed it towards another group of girls, leaving a blank, ringing silence behind which engulfed you two.

You could tell Caleb wasn’t exactly fond of Ethan’s praise, his amethyst eyes darkening a shade deeper, glittering like an uncut gem in the heart of a dark cavern.

But, he shook off the jealousy and turned to you, extending his arm politely.

Despite the awkwardness lingering between you, you took his arm, unsure what this gesture meant.

Caleb glanced at you, a subtle furrow in his brow which belied his true emotions. He wanted to ask you how you were after the entire reveal—if you had it in your heart to forgive him. But, the words clogged in the back of his throat, lost in the oasis of his slowly fading hopes and dreams that the two of you could ever be more than just friends.

How can he entertain such a thought when you had someone like Zayne in your life? Caleb shuddered. If there was anyone who was perfect for you, it would be the dark-haired man who was your primary physician. He glanced at you throughout the whole night, watching as you danced, ate and bantered with his teammates. How effortlessly you fit into his life without so much as a hitch.

Halfway through the second song, Ethan asked you to dance with him, and you agreed, taking his hand. Caleb struggled to keep his jealousy under wraps when he noticed how you tossed your head back, laughing at something his handsome colleague said. Before he could stop himself, the fighter pilot captain stood up and squeezed his way to the dance floor, taking your hand and tugging you into his arms while you were in the middle of a twirl.

“Caleb!” You gasped, and he glanced over at Ethan, giving him a dumbfounded colleague a cheeky wink.

Ignoring your protest, Caleb smoothly guided you through a slow waltz, taking this time to hold you close. You struggled to put some distance between your bodies, worried that his colleagues would get the wrong idea.

“Caleb, we’re in public—”

“So?” He interjected teasingly. The chandelier overhead threw specks of light onto the dancefloor, fragments of rays speckling his grin. “People can say what they want, Pipsqueak. I’m here with you—that’s all that matters.”

He spun you in his arms effortlessly, reminding you again of how easily he could maneuver your body. Giddy from the champagne and restless from the feelings you were trying so hard to forget from that forbidden night you shared with each other, you spoke the first thing that came to your mind.

“Caleb, do I mean anything to you?”

His grin faltered, though his movements were smooth and sure as he gently wrapped his arm around your waist, playfully dipping you low before putting you back to your feet.

“Of course, you do. You’re my Pipsqueak,” he murmured, soft enough that you needed to move closer to hear him better.

But, Caleb could see the doubt flickering across your expression, and he quickly rectified his insensible confession.

“No. Crap—that’s not what I meant,” he stumbled over his words, the two of you coming to a stop in the middle of the dance floor. Despite the couples twirling and giggling around you, it felt like you were in a bubble, lost in each other’s presence and gazes.

“I like you,” he admitted softly, cringing when he came to the realization that the reason you were being so distant these past few days was because of him. “And I have always… I’ve loved you. Since as long as I can remember.” He had no idea where the confidence to spew these lifelong words he’s kept fast to his chest came from, but it burst forth from the dam the moment he gave his true emotions permission to overflow.

You gaped at him. Under the strobing lights, Caleb couldn’t take his eyes off you, the flickering beams highlighting just how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You… like me?”

If his feelings weren’t obvious enough, Caleb leaned forward and without a single shred of fear, he kissed you, softly and sure. Right on the lips where everyone could see.

He didn’t care if someone had spotted him basically professing his love to the woman he had grown up with. The same one who Josephine gave the impression of being his younger sister. All that was on Caleb’s mind now was tearing down your doubts of him not loving you.

Your pretty eyes fluttered wide open when he pulled away, common sense snapping you back to the reality of standing on the dance floor as he waited for you to say something.

But, you had a better idea to truly show him your love.

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him from the dance floor and towards the exit, turning back to find him grinning knowingly. The flicker of desire you ignited that night when you caught him with your panties matured into something deeper. Something more carnal.

He took the lead, knowing this building like the back of his hand. There was a hidden room on the second floor where lecturers kept their projectors, and he dragged you right into the dark spot, pushing the door open, and then pushing you against it.

Caleb’s violet eyes shone brighter than jewels as he leaned in closer, lips millimeters from yours.

“I want you…”

Intoxicated by his scent, his presence, his everything, you leaned in, too, eyes drooping close, your voice soft and hypnotizing as you whispered:

“Then, take me.”

Caleb couldn’t waste another moment anymore. His lips slammed into yours with a bruising force and he kissed you like a starved man denied the taste of honey for thousands of years. The sweetness of you coated his palette, saturating his tongue till he felt like he could drown in your flavor. You kissed him back just as ardently, desperate to feel him closer.

The inexplicable heat of your bodies pressed against each other began to fog up the windows of this tiny room, your mouths meeting in between stirring gasps and ragged moans.

His lips charted a path from your jaw to your throat, down to the dip of your collarbone. The feel of him tonguing the rise of your breasts past the edge of your dress made a spark of electricity run up your spine. They said that the most sensitive parts of a human’s body were the fingertips and tongue with 100 pressure receptors in one cubic centimeter.

You were starting to realize how correct the fact was. The smoothness of his skin under your fingertips, the texture of his tongue curling around yours, seemed to be magnified by tenfold, your entire body aroused beyond reason.

“You taste divine…”

His whisper in your ear made the hairs on the back of your neck tingle. You moaned when he backed you up against the wall, hooking your thighs around his waist.

You chuckled at his impatience, your hip bumping into an old projector.

“S-slow down,” you teased in a shaky voice, digging your heels into his lower back. “I’m not leaving.”

He grunted, using one hand to unbutton the front of his pants. “Can’t take the risk.”

The sight of him, bulging behind his gray boxers, solidified to you how real this felt. How you were about to get fucked by your oldest childhood friend in what was the DAA’s broom closet.

Despite the less than romantic setting, the sparks flying between your bodies was hard to deny. The mounting heat left you susceptible to exhaling soft moans whenever his lips smeared hasty kisses on your throat and jaw. His teeth preyed on the sensitive strip of your neck, leaving behind careless love bites, his devouring mouth bringing the blood to your skin and gifting you marks in the shape of his mouth.

It was too dark to make out much of the sight of his cock, but in the sparse scattering of light shining through the grimy windows, you could make out at least 6 inches of flaccidity which was growing into a monster waiting to impale you.

Heart in your throat and a pulse in your pussy, you eagerly lifted your hips, waiting for him to give you what you want.

“Impatient, aren’t we, Pipsqueak?” He teased, though the ragged quality of his voice belied his true need. It felt hot and stuffy inside this little room, but you didn’t mind the mugginess.

Rivulets of sweat dripped down your back and neck, beads of sweat collecting on his brow. Caleb was fighting his inner demons to just grab and ravish you without a care for anything else in this goddamn world. It wasn’t exactly the ‘roses-on-bed-scented-candles-all-night-loving’ he envisioned for his first time, but he still had to be gentle.

He was determined to not hurt you.

Using his raw strength to lift you with one arm, Caleb discreetly snuck a stroke, making sure he was ready to claim you.

Your eyes shone demurely with mushy desire, glowing softly in the lack of light. Caleb was mesmerized when he slowly unzipped your dress. Your tits were right in his face, held captive by the loving lacy grip of your bra, and he didn’t spare another second to drag them down, letting your pillowy softness overspill right into his waiting mouth.

Caleb took one hard nipple in his mouth, rolling the sensitive peak with his tongue. Your soft gasps and hitched whines were making him leak all over the dusty floors, and he growled, grazing his teeth on the stiff bud.

He loved how your hips clipped against his and groaned under his breath when you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging on the roots.

“You’re gonna pluck some strands out if you keep this up,” he grumbled when you pulled harder. The ghost of your laughter brushed the delicate shell of his ear, and Caleb felt your warm tongue trace the ridges.

Closer to you now, he could plainly hear your quiet whines. Taking his time to prep you, Caleb ignored the strain of lifting you up, enjoying the weight of your body in his grasp as he quickly stuffed his index and middle finger down his mouth.

Lubricating it well with his spit, he used the two soaked digits to pry the seat of your panties aside, before gently easing them right into your fluttering hole.

Your gasp reverberated across the room and he shushed you, planting his mouth on yours to quell your whimpers and moans.

“C-Caleb—”

Shit. You’re so tight. He murmured right into the crook of your throat, flicking his tongue out to taste your skin.

Beautiful girl, he whispered. You love this, don’t you?

The stretch of his fingers felt immaculate, pushing past the tight ring of muscle, slowly feeding you inch after inch. Caleb knew he didn’t exactly have the smallest hands, and that was partly what made this so fun.

If you struggled to take his fingers, imagine how tight you would be wrapped around his cock.

The blood rushed straight to his head, leaving him dizzy. He licked his lips, settling knuckle-deep into the depths of your cunt.

The violet-haired man groaned the same moment you mewled out his name.

Caleb… shit… you’re so deep…

He chuckled throatily. I can go deeper, baby.

Scissoring his fingers, Caleb established a rhythm which had your entire body shaking.

His mouth stays latched around your nipple, plumping it up with arousal from tender suction and licks.

Your breathy whimpers and heady sighs went straight to his neglected cock. But, Caleb didn’t care. He wanted to fully focus on you.

You like that, baby?

Devotion flooded his instincts, loving how you held onto him tighter as if he was both your anchor and the storm wrecking you apart.

You gurgled a cross between a whimper and a sigh, nodding. “It feels good, Caleb.”

You weren’t lying. The way you were squeezing down on him made Caleb feel like he was in a dream.

Yeah? He huffed, licking a strip from your jaw to your lower lip. Loving your mewled and arched your back.

Once your sweet pussy began to flutter uncontrollably, Caleb knew it was time to really claim you once and for all.

The thrill of fucking you with your clothes still on was part of the entire charm of why Caleb had fallen in love with you. Daring, bold, kind—you were the physical embodiment of all his dreams coming true.

And he never stopped reminding you of how lucky he was to have you.

“You’re so gorgeous, darling,” he cooed. The feeling of his cock sinking deep inside of you couldn't compare to his fingers.

For one, he was girthier than you expected; stretching you further than what you could handle. Caleb had to clamp a hand over your mouth to staunch your sweet moans.

Ssh. You don’t want them to find us out, don’t you?

Sweet and obedient, you hummed, shaking your head. The honeyed tenderness in his violet eyes never disappeared, the affection in them shining through with unconcealed devotion.

Your dulcet mewl of, “Caleb, please,” went straight to his dick like a lightning strike, and the last strands of his patience snapped.

Caleb wanted to take it nice and slow, but the building heat between the both of you that has been stoking for years and years on his end, displaced his common sense.

He needed to have you; he needed to claim you.

In one swift motion, Caleb lifted you by the hips, hissing in pleasure when you hastily tugged your panties down, allowing him to nudge the tip of his cock past the snug fit of your drooling pussy.

He grunted the second your sweet heat and vulnerable walls closed on him, encapsulating him in your intoxicating warmth.

Caleb felt your forehead press to his, the closeness of you spiking his heart rate. Despite the position and location he had you in, the air was clouded with intimacy.

Your soft sighs, your yielding kisses, the subdued moans you bit back so as not to give any nosy eavesdroppers an idea of how good he was indulging you, made his head spin with love and his cock twitch with lust.

You’re so big, you whispered and he almost came into your tight heat.

Caleb grunted, sweat stinging his eyes and dripping down his cheeks. “You’ll be the death of me, darling,” he murmured, losing himself in your gooey, wide doe eyes. “You feel amazing.”

Grunts, moans and puffs of heat touching each other’s lips filled the space. Your body was making him so high; no amount of stimulants or adrenaline could make his heart pound this fast.

When you pressed your lips to his, Caleb just about had a stroke of Nirvana, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, voice low and deep as he murmured, “I’m close.”

He’d been with girls before, but none of them were you. Experience couldn’t trump the novelty of tasting the first girl he had ever been in love with.

Tears pricked in your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming.

Caleb… oh… oh… shit.

He felt you tighten on him, the soft plop plop plop of your bodies meeting each other in a sloppy, heavenly embrace loud through the rush of blood flowing in his ears.

Caleb pushed his tongue right into your mouth, at the same moment you cried out his name, muffling your cries.

You were being so unbelievably good for him, not a hint of restraint, and he kept on going. Caleb dug his heels into the ground, propelling his hips in powerful surges, the fucking grip of your pussy on him so warm, wet and tight.

He has no desire of stopping, intent on pushing you over the edge. To get your body to recognize his undeniable claim on it.

You’re being so good for me, princess, he breathed hotly into your ear. I can feel you clamping down—fuck. Don’t stop.

Your nails stabbed into his shoulders, dragging down his back.

His precum mixed with your juices, dripping to the floor, your body shaking like an earthquake was ripping through it.

Please—you panted. Don’t stop.

Caleb didn’t want to. He wanted nothing more than to stuff you full of his seed, and to finally see his claim dripping white hot and thick down your thighs.

He has been dreaming of this day since he figured out how to jack himself off—the star of his filthiest fantasies finally in his arms.

Caleb dug his fingers into the plush fat of your thighs, using it as leverage to jerk you up and down his slick cock. He can tell you’re approaching your high from the scrunch in your brow, the way your lips are slack and parted.

“Caleb…”

He encouraged your release with a hearty squeeze, the feeling of his cock rutting deeper into you making your toes curl behind his back.

You tossed your head back, letting a shameless moan escape. Fingers tangling his hair, his mouth pressed to yours, you squeaked, your climax hanging on a tenacious thread.

He broke it with his lips pressed to your ear, growling at you—cum for me, princess. Give me all of your sweet cum.

Your heels stabbed into his lower back almost painfully, the sting enough to push him over the edge together with you. Caleb pumped you full of his cum, relentless in his need to conquer you.

His seed painted your walls, your breaths plucking into a whiny, high-pitched moan. If he hadn’t just blown the biggest load in his life, Caleb was sure he would’ve combust into flames when you sucked on his bottom lip needily, murmuring about how much you loved his cum inside of you.

Caleb brushed a soft kiss to your forehead, setting you back down to your feet. You wobbled and stumbled, needing to hold onto the thick trunk of his bicep to steady yourself.

The flush on your cheeks and the glassy look in your eyes was a complete telltale to what you both had done in this closet, and yet, he wanted to see you squirm even more.

Deftly, without you noticing, Caleb used his Evol to flick your skirt up, smoothly removing your panties and stuffing it into his pocket. He grinned at your aghast expression, words saccharine sweet and dubiously innocent.

“What? That’s my souvenir for the night.”

You had no energy to fight him off, not when he was helping you adjust your dress and hair. Once you were decently dressed and he made sure his pants had no wrinkles, Caleb steps out of the closet, glancing left to right before tightening his grip on your hand and leading you out.

Your earth shattering release still humming in your bones, you almost felt shy to meet his eyes under the flickering, warm lights.

But, Caleb didn’t let you marinate in your shyness for too long, squeezing your hand and shooting you a bright, reassuring grin.

“Come on, princess. Let’s get you home.”

Not Pipsqueak. Not Y/N.

But, princess.

Caleb’s princess.

You squirmed under his gaze, but not for the reasons he thought. Caleb glanced at you, curiosity shining in his eyes when you whispered softly: “Can I have my panties back?”

He grinned, cocking a brow. “And why should I do that, princess?”

You plastered on a scowl, narrowing your eyes. “Because,” you huffed, “Your stupid cum is leaking down my thighs.”

Against your wishes, you felt the faint stirrings of his Evol brushing your legs, though to someone not accustomed to it, the pressure probably felt like the slightest hint of a breeze. Using his Evol, Caleb slid it between your folds, finding your puffy pussy and to your mortification, the pressure solidified.

Safely stuffing you full of his cum.

You opened your mouth, about to comment on his audacity when you were accosted by Ethan, who’s self-assured smirk faltered the moment he saw Caleb’s hand in yours.

“Yo… isn’t she your sister?”

Caleb’s eyes darkened, and he straightened at the intrusive question, his usual jovial, light tone now deeper and authoritative.

“Do you always make it a habit to make such intrusive comments on your captain’s relationships, Lieutenant Cole?”

The second Caleb uttered his rank, Ethan sobered up and clicked his heels together, arms folded behind his back as he looked past his superior’s shoulder.

“No, sir,” Ethan said clearly, shaking his head. “Of course, not, sir.”

Caleb nodded, apparently satisfied, and tightened his grip on your hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go home before Gran gets worried.”

The older man knew the second his back was turned, Ethan would run off and gossip with the rest of his cohort, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Let the rumor mill churn. As long as Caleb has you by his side, he wouldn’t pay a single shred of attention to the whispers.

You were noticeably shaken by the encounter with Ethan and Caleb squeezed your hand, bringing you back from your thoughts.

“Hey. You okay, Pipsqueak?”

A deep breath. “Are you sure you… want this?” Are you sure you want me?

The silent question was unspoken, yet he heard it all the same.

“Of course, I do,” he said and proving without a shadow of doubt at how serious he was for you, Caleb drew you closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I want this. I want you. And nothing is ever going to change my mind on this.”

Relieved and a little touched by his insistence, Caleb saw the trust spreading across your face; your belief in him strengthening.

“Come on, princess,” he murmured, voice warm as he tugged you towards his motorcycle. “Let’s head home—I’m not done with you yet.”

Clutching his hand tighter, you flashed him a carefree grin and nodded.

Home with Caleb. Home and Caleb.

Both felt incredibly right.

a/n: i need a cold shower and caleb to come home stat .... reblogs and feedback are so beloved <3

#🦢 writes #caleb love and deepspace #caleb smut #xia yizhou #xia yizhou x reader #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #caleb x you #lnds caleb #l&ds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace fic #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #lads x you #lads x y/n #lnds smut #l&ds smut

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 8 months ago

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I keep rewatching that epilogue scene and, the way Hunter and Omega talk about her joining the Rebellion... You can tell this is not the first time they're having this conversation. And I just can't help but wonder what the previous one(s) must have looked like.

Because something tells me it wasn't peaceful.

I just can't imagine Hunter having any other reaction than an immediate, definitive "absolutely not" the first time he hears about Omega wanting to join the Rebellion. Just like I can't imagine Omega being okay with that reaction.

Were they arguing about it? Were they butting heads and not backing down from their respective points? Because they would. Absolutely, they would.

Did their brothers have conversations with both of them separately? Did Wrecker tell Omega to give Hunter a break because he's old and worried? Did Crosshair convince Hunter that he can't keep a grown woman grounded just because he's scared about her? Did Echo tell him that if this is Omega's calling, he has to let her do her thing?

She tried to sneak off. As if she didn't want to go through this again. As if she thought leaving without a goodbye would be easier on everyone and this way no one can stop her. After all, she made up her mind. She's going. But when she turns the light on and spots Hunter sitting there, she's not even surprised. She nods to herself like of course. Of course he's here.

This literally sounds like they've been over this before. But this time the conversation is surely more peaceful. They both have the other's perspective in their minds now.

This is my choice and I know it scares you but I need you to understand.

I know I won't change your mind but I don't want you to go, I want you to be safe.

This must have been said before as well. Maybe in anger. Maybe in pleading. Or desperation. I wouldn't be surprised if Omega got very frustrated with Hunter for treating her like she's still a kid. Nor would I be shocked if Hunter had trouble articulating his point of view in all his worry and panic. But here, it's a confession. It's very vulnerable. It's the truth Hunter doesn't want to hear and gives a reason why.

Omega is a grown woman now. Skilled, capable, brave. Hunter doesn't doubt that. But to him, she's always going to be his little girl no matter how old she is and I am still speechless at the fact that we actually see him not only struggling with it but also admitting to it.

Back on Pabu, after they escaped Tantiss, Hunter told her: "We've all fought enough battles for one lifetime." And now, years later, Omega echoes this back to him. "You've all fought enough." Almost like she's reading Hunter's mind and knows that if he can't stop her, he's going to want to join her.

The way he wants to reach after her here when she gets up. Like he wants to say wait, no, don't go yet!

But this is her fight, just like she says. She's never been able to sit still, we know that, we've seen that. Just like Echo back in season 2, she can't stand the thought of staying down and doing nothing when there are people out there fighting for freedom. People she can help. She's a skilled pilot now (I can bet she'll become most famous in the Rebellion for her flawless Tech-Turn), she has absorbed everything her brothers have taught her over the years like a sponge and now she wants to use that. After years of living away from the fight, she's finally ready to get back out there and make a difference in the galaxy. Fight for peace because that is her calling.

She's ready, but Hunter is not.

You can tell it's literally tearing him apart to watch her go. That's his baby, the whole reason he's living the life he has now. He gave his blood, sweat and tears so she could grow up safe and happy and away from the Empire's clutches. And now she's going back right into them, willingly.

But she's all grown up. And he has no choice but to let her go do her thing. So he holds her close and I don't doubt sends out a prayer that she comes back to him safe and in one piece. He closes his eyes and commits the feeling to memory because who knows when will be the next time he gets to do this?

And it might be destroying him inside but he's so damn proud. And he knows she's got this. She doesn't need her old man to watch her back anymore.

And yet still this old man, with gray in his hair and beard, this old man whose posture is hunched and who is moving slowly and having difficulty standing up because of his accelerated age, is telling his very grown up and very capable daughter that if she needs him, he's going to pick up his blaster, don the armor and join her in the fight.

Because that's what fathers do.

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch #bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #tbb hunter #tbb omega #hunter and omega

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yoditopascal · 4 months ago

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Like A Prayer (Part 2)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: I wanted to get up to the part where you finally meet Logan but it was too long 😭 and I ended up deciding to split the chapter up. In the mean time I hope this enough to tide you over. <3

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts, @blooket-scares-me, @amararosesblog, @talanyra, @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Wolverining is Hard

When you come to, your arms are tightly secured behind your back. Sitting up you try to take in your surroundings as you wiggle around trying to free yourself. The room you’re in is dark with a metal table and a singular chair in the middle and smelled strongly of disinfectant.

Just as you felt like you were making progress with your restraints, really you had just dislocated your hand, a door opens up on your right flooding your vision with a blinding light.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Came an accented voice, it sounded British. Just as your eyes had started to adjust to the light you were harshly hoisted up to your feet and dragged away into another room before being dumped unceremoniously at the feet of a pair of red and black boots

“Pookie you’re alive!” said Wade dressed in a new and improved Deadpool suit. Where did he get that? You thought to yourself. “I thought these TVA fucks ate you or something!

Helping you to your feet Wade pats you on top of the head before gesturing between your restrained hands and a guy holding what looked like a giant remote in his hands.

Rolling his eyes the guy snaps his fingers and you’re manhandled again as your restraints are roughly yanked off.

Taking in your surroundings you notice you’re in what looks to be an office with office workers and a floating platform above it. On the platform, where you all were standing, are a bunch of monitors all showing different scenes of you and your friends.

“Where are we Wade? What is this place?” You asked confused as you rubbed at your sore wrists, getting closer to him.

“You, baby girl, have just been upgraded to first disciple! Congratulations!” He said jokingly, just as he was about to say something else he was interrupted by an accented voice, the same one you had heard before.

“As you can see Mr. Wilson your friend is alive and well mostly well.” Said the man from behind Wade with the British accent, he eerily reminded you of Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Frowning, the man watched you with a disgusted expression as you flicked your hand popping your wrist back into place as you sucked in a breath in pain. You had definitely dislocated it earlier.

“Now as much as I hate to cut the reunion short it’s time for her to go back home.” He said snapping his fingers again, suddenly you're surrounded by men in body armor again, one reaches out quickly to grab you but you stumble back into Wade who pushes you behind him.

“Wait wait wait….you’re just gonna send her home? To die?” He turns to ask the man behind him. He could feel you pressed against his back, like you were trying to get under his skin. You were scared and he couldn’t blame you, you still had no idea what was going on.

“Die? What are you talking about?” You asked looking back and forth between the man and Wade until a gloved finger fell on your lips silencing you.

“Shush child Marvel Jesus is talking.”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing his hand away.

“You can’t send her back Paradox.”

“Oh I can and I will.” The man, Paradox, had said as one of his armed men came up to him handing him one of those electric baton stick things you had seen earlier. You immediately tensed up, as he started to approach you with it, not knowing what it would do to you on contact.

“No wait wait wait please just hang on a fucking second!” Wade shouted, it was one of rare times he got serious and it made your hair stand on end

“What now Mr. Wilson?” Mr. Paradox asked, groaning dramatically, as if all of this was just a giant waste of his time

“W-what can I do to fix it? The timeline?”

Timeline? What the fuck was happening? You thought confused as you looked back at Wade again as he stared down Mr. Paradox

“Nothing unless you can bring Wolverine back to life in the next,” he says nonchalantly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as he checks his watch “96 hours. But that’s impossible to-“

That little bit of information was enough to get the cogs in Wade’s brain turning as he hatched a play.

“Say less, I’m on it like a car bonnet!” Wade said cheerfully, you had no idea what the fuck that many but whatever it was Wade had set his mind too it and once his mind was set nothing was going to get in his way.

“Mr. Wilson-“ Mr. Paradox had started to say but before he could get another word out, Wade lunges forward and headbutts him full force, breaking his nose on contact, knocking him out as he snatched up the strange remote device Paradox had had in his hands.

Before you could even blink, Wade grabs you, scooping you up into his side, right under his armpit, as he opens up another one of those orange portal doors and jumps right through it with you.

The other side of the portal opens up midair and you crash land in the middle of a frozen forest. The ground and trees around you, covered in a powdery dusting of snow as a harsh wind blows over you causing you to shiver slightly, as you go to sit up you find yourself unable to move as a sharp pain shoots up your right arm.

It took a few moments to realize Wade had landed with you, more like on top of you it seemed, until you heard him groan from your back.

“I gotta get better at opening those things.” He groans, getting up.

“Sorry sugar lumps, we didn't really stick the landing there.” He said stretching his sore limbs as he gestured to your arm. It was bent at an awkward angle behind you, most definitely broken. Standing to your feet you grab at the injured appendage, popping it back into place with a loud snap and a yelp before it has a chance to heal wrong

“Ok Wade I’ve had enough of this Leon and Helena bullshit-“ you panted out still reeling from the pain of your arm.

“Ha! Resident Evil 6 humor!”

“Enough! Please just tell me what’s going on?!” You finally snap as you pull your cardigan around yourself in an attempt to block out the cold. Wade looks you over as if contemplating what to say next before he groans, running a gloved hand over his mask.

“Ah shit where do I even start?” He says as he sits down on a pile of rocks that had a makeshift stick x on top that looks suspiciously like a grave, you chose not to comment on it, as he begins to explain what had transpired over the last hour.

Apparently he was Marvel Jesus, you still didn’t get that part, and your timeline was dying. How? You weren’t entirely sure but Wade kept mumbling under his breath about some “Aussie fuck stealing his thunder from down under”, and that Mr. Paradox guy, who’s in charge of those TVA bastards that kidnapped you and Wade, was in charge of overseeing it but instead of letting it die out naturally over the next hundred years or so was going to speed up the process and now Wade only had 96 hours to fix it before everyone you knew and loved died.

“Which is why we’re here!” He said cheerfully pulling two shovels out of nowhere. Looking behind him to see where the shovels had intact come from you missed as he took a sip from his newly acquired ‘I Like Me’ mug through his mask before tossing it. “Grab your shovel jelly bean, we're hunting a Wolverine!” He said tossing the second shovel at your feet as he pulls the makeshift x grave marker from the pile of stones and starts to dig.

As soon as he said that you felt your stomach drop to your ass. That was a grave behind him, and it wasn’t just anyone’s… it was the Wolverine’s. You were digging up Wolverine to save your timeline?

“Holy shit.”

To say you idolized the guy was an understatement. When you were a kid you had all kinds of Wolverine comics and stickers, hell you still had a pair of Wolverine underwear to this day. Digging up his grave after all this time, after all that he went through in life just felt…wrong.

“You can cream your spinach later, right now we need to see if widdle Wolvie is really taking a dirt nap or not.” Chunks of dirt flew through the air as Wade kept digging, completely absorbed in his task.

“Wade this is-“ Not right you wanted to say. You start feeling your anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I can’t-!”

The sound of his shovel hitting something metal, adamantium, stopped you in your place. Tapping his shovel twice more to make sure he had actually hit something and that it wasn’t just his imagination, Wade looked over to you before turning back to what he had found, wiping away the dirt, he stared down at the now exposed decaying metallic skull of the Wolverine.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Wade stare at the corpse for a moment, lost in thought, before he raised his shovel over his head and bought it down on Wolverine’s skull over and over again, not stopping until he got even frustrated and snapped the wooden handle over his knee, no doubt breaking it in the process.

“Damn it! Son of a bitch! Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!”

He screamed, throwing the pieces of the shovel and swinging his arms as he punched at the air. It had been a long time since you had seen him this serious, albeit the last time you were quite literally dying, and it was honestly terrifying.

Your stomach sank even further at his words. Hugging your arms to yourself in an attempt to make yourself smaller you slowly approached Wade just as he was pulling the adamantium skeleton fully from the grave, dragging it over to a downed tree as he propped it up to sit cross legged by him.

“That was weird. I’m much calmer now.” He says with a chuckle, you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the corpse. “Look, I’m not a man of science, but you seem incredibly passed away. But it’s good to see ya.” he pats the corpse on the knee causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust as bile rises in your throat. You’d seen Wade do a lot of strange shit over the years of knowing him, but exhuming a grave of a fallen hero and having a one on one with his dead body was a whole new world for you.

“I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Logan. You and me, getting into everything. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun, the chaos, the residuals?”

You didn’t even want to know what he meant by that as you crept up next to Wade, kneeling down by his side.

“G’day, mate? There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of metal cash.” Wade placed a finger under the corpse’s chin making its mandible move up and down as if he was talking to him, you put your arm on his to get him to stop but he just kept going as he moved to hold his masked head in his hands.

“No, no, no, no, uuuugh!” He groans dramatically as he throws his head back, thumping it on the tree trunk behind him. “He had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! We coulda really used your help right about now Hugh.”

“Wade,” you said softly as you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll figure something out, there’s got to be another way right?”

Wade’s masked face turns to look at you, deep in thought, before the sound of multiple approaching footsteps pulls him out of his head. Pulling you until you were tucked between him and the tree truck, he peeks over the tree before ducking back down just as fast, cursing under his breath.

“Wade Winston Wilson! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority for too many crimes to count, come out!” Came a booming voice over the chill of the air. You and Wade look at each other for a moment as if deciding what to do.

“This is your last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!” The voice said again as he and a bunch of other TVA agents began to surround you.

You look Wade in his eyes again and nod, knowing he’s going to have to fight to get you both out of there. Looking around himself for anything you could use to defend yourself, his eyes land on the adamantium skeleton sitting nearby and he gets a horribly morbid idea.

“I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them.” He shouts back as he turns back towards you, placing a hand on your head. “Ok Nugget you know the drill.” He says so that only you can hear.

“You go right, I go left.” You nod your head towards the tree line in the background on your left.

“Good girl.” He pats you on the head one last time, tucking baby knife into your hand. “Maximum effort.” He grunted as you both stood, jumping into action. You break to the left as fast as your feet can carry you just as Wade jumps over the tree trunk pulling Wolverine's body with him.

Hearing rapid footfalls following close behind you try to pick up the pace, your lungs burning as you run, just as you reach the woods a gloved hand reaches out tangling itself in your locs before yanking you backwards. You hit the snow covered ground with an audible thud. Your head ringing and vision blurred from the impact. Just as your eyes were starting to clear, that rapid thumping noise from before came back with a vengeance.

Shaking your head to clear it you try and get back up to your feet until a black boot, steps down on your shoulder harshly. Above you stood a TVA agent, his stick pointed right at you as he glared down at you. Just as he began to lower it, you pulled baby knife from your boot, stabbing it as hard as you could through his foot.

He screams in pain as he stumbles backwards falling on his ass as he goes to pull out the knife. Scrambling back up you yank the knife from his foot before embedding it in his exposed neck. Pulling the knife back out again the fall back on your ass in shock at what you just did. You killed someone and hadn’t even hesitated. Sure you had see your fair share of people dying, thanks mostly to Wade, but never had you actually been the one doing the killing.

Before you have a chance to wallow anymore to yourself, you hear a body thud next to you and jump.

“My bad!” Wade calls as he smacks a TVA agent across the face with something that looked suspiciously like a metal femur, shattering his helmet and mostly his face on impact. “Wolverining is hard!”

“Wolverine was a hero and the only thing worth a shit to ever come out of Canada!” Shouted a voice from in front of you two, it was the same guy from before, the one who you tackled through the portal earlier, and he looked pissed. Before he had a chance to say anything else a katana goes bouncing off the ground and right through the guy’s mouth.

“Get my country’s name out of your fucking mouth.” Wade said as he walked up to the still standing body, pulling his sword out of his mouth. “And my sword, gimme that.”

Cleaning off the blade with his sleeve, Wade looks you over, checking you for injuries, something he couldn’t break himself from doing, no matter how much you told him you could heal, before pulling you to your feet.

“We gotta find us another Logan, an alive one.” He said looking around himself assessing the overall damage.

“How?” You question still trying to quiet the pounding in your head, it was starting to fade out now, only being a low murmur at the point, but it still made it hard to focus.

Pulling something from his belt, Wade holds up the remote looking device he had stolen from Mr. Paradox earlier between wiggling fingers.

“This my dear bestest pal is how.” He said opening it up and hitting a few buttons. Another orange portal opens and you stare at it in contemplation, nervousness grips your stomach as you think about what the two of you would get into on the other side of the portal. Wade goes through first holding out a hand for you from the other side. Swallowing down rising anxiety, you take up his hand following him through.

On the other side of the portal the atmosphere is much warmer, you're both in a club, a nice one at that, surrounded by other people as they mingle and converse by the bar.

“Logan I’m gonna need you to come with us!” Wade spoke over the music. Looking around the room, you wonder which of these people he was talking to, none of them really looked like a Wolverine to you.

“Who’s asking?” came a familiar voice from the bar. Turning to look to see who it was that said that, you were shocked to see a guy, about your height, with a crazy hairy torso, wearing a tight fitted black v-neck.

His face definitely screamed Wolverine to you but there was something about this man that just struck you as off.

“Look at this little Mary Lou Retton. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes, you did, comic-accurate short king.” Wade cooed to him from your side in a baby voice as he crouched down dramatically.

You frowned up as Wade as he mocked him, definitely planning to ream him out later when you, yourself, was the same height as the man he was making fun of. This Wolverine stares at you, recognition and another emotion in his eyes, that you weren’t sure of as his nostrils flared and they took in yours and Wade’s, no doubt horrific, scents. Just as you were about to tell Wade that this Wolverine would work, another orange portal opens up behind you and he dragging you inside with him.

“Cue the fucking montage, baby.”

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #platonic deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #hugh jackman #like a prayer

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duck-a-doodle · 4 months ago

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COD IMAGINES

TACTICAL BUDDLE BUG 4/4

Chapters 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

TF141!reader x 141

WARNING: Angst, Death, Comfort

A/N: I could not think of any other way for Ghost to accept your hug. I apologise for the trauma in advance. :'-)

Masterlist

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The most serious member of the 141 is secretly a very affectionate person.

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The mission was rough, one that pulled you under and dragged your bloodied knees through dirt and gravel.

It was a ground search and rescue operation which lasted for weeks on end, and one which tested the limits of the human body, bending your sanity to the brink of a clean snap.

The streets were coloured in violence, and the grounds were a tangle of rubble, vehicle parts and severed bodies.

Wherever you stepped, there would lay a limb or a head, of which you could no longer tell if they belonged to an enemy or hostage. It no longer mattered, not when your boots must travel the roads of a thousand stripped souls.

You saved several hostages from the scene, but there was one that you know would haunt you til the end of your days.

It was a little girl. Small, young, with her favourite doll that was caked with remnants of dirt and coagulated blood, the latter of which should never have made its mark upon such a pure soul.

You had to coax her to climb down from the roof, to bring her to safety, and you had failed to realise that you were not the only one to notice the child.

A bullet tore through her chest, and another through her side, bringing her down from the roof, soft and limp into your arms.

Not every hostage can be saved. Not every enemy will be found. Ghost, who buried the young girl you in the aftermath, had watched you ruin every unfriendly sight with a fury unmatched.

He witnessed the angry flames that swallowed up every dead man as you pulled them straight down to hell with you.

Your body had moved blindly when you heard the roaring sound of your captain's orders to return to the plane.

Gaz was adjacent to you, resting quietly while Johnny sat on your other side, watching you carefully; you refused to look at him, knowing that his eyes would look right through you.

The captain said nothing, and Ghost, who propped himself opposite to where you were, was unreadable.

There was no banter, no questions, and only a silent prayer remained.

You cannot remember whose hands have rested on your arms or shoulders in an attempt to calm you; all you recall was the chill and bile that rised from within you. You could not remember the debriefing that felt like seconds but passed like hours.

You could not remember how you got back. Not how you got into your fresh clothes, not how your wounds — once bloody and inflamed — were now patched, and not how you found yourself standing at Ghost's door, waiting.

Why were you there? What were you waiting for? And as soon as the question arose, the answer made itself clear; because of all people, he would know.

As if sensing a presence, the room opened with a click, and Ghost appeared in the doorway, taking a moment to register your presence. He moved to one side. Stepping in silently, the door closed shut behind you, enclosing you in a box of white noise.

He stood before you, saying nothing. He did not need to say anything. In fact, he need not even ask. He simply knew.

"You did what you could."

The reality of his words were a dagger to your beating chest. You lived. You lived, and you were grateful. But you lived at a cost, with the price of blood on your hands.

You took one step. Then another. And Ghost, who did not anticipate what you were about to do, stilled as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.

Fingers tangled tight into the fabric of his shirt, and you press your face deep into his body, seeking — begging — for a reprieve. The darkness was a comfort. He was a comfort.

For once, you want to feel a life that you can hold in your hands, that will not disappear under your touch, that is living and breathing. To hear the heartbeat of a soul, to get rid of the memory of cold, colourless skin that rest unmoving against your arms.

"Breathe, cub."

You could not move. You did not want to move. You cannot bear to move. Not an inch, not away from him who you knew understood better than anybody. His hands were placed on your back. Warm. Alive.

There were no use for words as both of you held each other in silence, resting in the comfort of a feeling near-forgotten.

That was your last memory of that night before you knocked out cold, and in your sleep you dreamt of a hand that wiped the warm corners of your eyes, rough yet gentle.

Unbeknownst to you, a storm in Ghost had calmed when you chose him of all people to seek comfort in, and silently grateful he was for the team to have a most sensitive heart on board.

You were the most affectionate person of the 141, and you cared and loved unconditionally. Those qualities made you the most lethal one of them all, for despite any rankings or titles, you commandeered them all with a piece of your heart — and the day your heart dies is the day they raise hell in your name.

----------------------------------------------------------

FOOTNOTE(S):

Ghost likely has only hugged the captain once or twice and Johnny, several times but not of his own volition.

Your heart reminds him of his better days with his brother Tommy and it makes him want to punch you (cuteness aggression), but he will take that knowledge to his grave.

#call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #captain johnathan price #duckscribbles #johnny soap mactavish #john mctavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #jonathan price

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grace-williams-xo · 7 months ago

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I HAVE FINISHED THE FIRST FOUR THIS IS GONNA BE MY MESSY THOUGHTS POST. SPOILERS AHEAD. [Part two rambles, addressing some of these.]

I want Cressida to be happy and I want her and Debling to work things out sue me I do

More than that I ship Cressida and Eloise,,,, frothing for them to kiss actually

Benedict my happy smiling boy with no thoughts behind the eyes I love you

I still want Sophie to appear late in the season

Anthony is so in love and obsessed with Kate it is grotesque like that man has not had a thought about anything other than his wife since he married her

Despite being the world’s biggest Kanthony lover,,,, I have to admit that their absence works better than I expected

Francesca and Eloise’s little friendship moment in ep 1 was so sweet [EDIT: I meant Francesca and Penelope smh my brain]

Francesca has my entire heart I want her to continue to thrive happy in part two

It’s not that I don’t like the Mondrich’s or their plot… it just feels very disconnected. Hopefully this improves

SO happy about Pen and Delacroix’s continuing friendship I always want more of that I love them

Anthony is gonna kill Colin when he gets back, Kate saying no is gonna be the only reason he doesn’t (I can’t fully explain it, I just feel like Anthony is gonna be mad)

Despite what I said in point 6, we do need kanthony in every episode of part two

Kinda loving Portia Featherington this season, sending her thoughts and prayers every time Prudence and Phillipa breathe, but also scared how she’s gonna react to Pen marrying Colin

When Colin finds out about LW,,,,,,

I like how late the introduction of Marcus was, and how slow burn that is

The first threesome scene wasn’t that bad imo and the second one, where he’s not involved, is so blink and you miss it and he’s clearly not into it anyway so also not that bad

This is going to be the longest 27 days of my life

P.S. I don’t know what to say about Polin. I was screaming at Colin for 90% of it. The carriage scene, the proposal; chef’s kiss.

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bratzkoo · 3 months ago

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still the one | joshua hong

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: exes! joshua x reader Genre: fluff, semi-angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 4.8k~ Warnings/note: i just want joshua to do something very loser of him just to get his ex back.

summary: 5 years after your break up, Joshua tries his best to get your attention. May it be creating a new instagram to get you to notice him, making your brother (Seungkwan) secretly invite him to his birthday party, and his latest act: begging you on his knees in front of your door to get him back. He just never gives up!

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

You didn’t really see it coming.

The autumn breeze carried a hint of crisp possibility as you walked through the park, fallen leaves crunching satisfyingly beneath your feet. Life was good – you had a successful career that challenged and fulfilled you, a cozy apartment in the heart of the city, and a circle of friends who filled your days with laughter and your nights with adventure.

As you strolled along the winding path, you couldn't help but smile at the scenes around you. Couples walked hand in hand, their heads bent close in conversation. Families spread out on checkered blankets, enjoying impromptu picnics in the fading warmth of the season. A group of friends tossed a frisbee, their shouts and laughter carrying on the wind.

You paused for a moment, tilting your face up to catch the last rays of the setting sun. Contentment washed over you, a feeling of being exactly where you were meant to be. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely Ranee confirming plans for your weekly wine and movie night. Life had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, one that you'd worked hard to create and maintain.

Little did you know that this carefully constructed peace was about to be shaken to its core. As you reached for your phone, you were blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing, of the persistent force that was about to re-enter your life and turn everything upside down.

Somewhere across the city, Joshua Hong was steeling his nerves, his finger hovering over the 'Create Account' button on Instagram. He'd spent weeks crafting the perfect username, carefully selecting photos, and writing and rewriting his bio. Now, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, he was about to take the first step in his plan to win you back.

But for now, in this moment, you were simply enjoying the park, the autumn day, and the life you'd built for yourself. The future, with all its unexpected twists and turns, could wait.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your reverie. A notification from Instagram – a new follow request. Your breath caught as you read the username: J_Hong_1996. It couldn't be... could it?

With trembling fingers, you tapped on the profile. The photos were sparse, but unmistakable. Joshua, looking older but still achingly familiar, in various locations around the city. Your city. He was back.

For a moment, you considered hitting the 'Decline' button, shutting this unexpected door before it could fully open. But curiosity – or perhaps something deeper – made you hesitate. Before you could overthink it, you hit 'Accept', telling yourself it was just to see what he was up to.

Within minutes, your phone buzzed again. A direct message.

"(Y/N), I know it's been a long time, but I'm back in town. Can we talk?"

You stared at the message, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Anger at his presumption, hurt that still lingered after all these years, and underneath it all, a traitorous flicker of... what? Hope? Longing? You shook your head, banishing the thought.

Days passed, and more messages followed, each one a little more desperate than the last.

"I understand if you're angry. I just want a chance to explain."

"I've missed you every day for the past five years. Please, just five minutes of your time."

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to earn it."

You continued to ignore them, hoping he'd take the hint. But Joshua, it seemed, was nothing if not persistent.

A week after the first Instagram request, your brother Seungkwan called. His voice was suspiciously casual as he said, "Hey, sis! Just finalizing plans for my birthday party next weekend. You're coming, right?"

"Of course," you replied, a smile in your voice despite your turbulent thoughts. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great!" Seungkwan said, a little too enthusiastically. There was a pause, and then, "Oh, and, uh, just so you know... Joshua might be there. He reached out, said he was back in town and wanted to reconnect with old friends. I hope that's okay?"

Your grip tightened on the phone, knuckles turning white. "Seungkwan," you said, your voice dangerously calm, "did he put you up to this?"

Your brother's guilty silence was all the answer you needed. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It's fine. It's your party. Invite whoever you want."

As you ended the call, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being maneuvered into a confrontation you weren't sure you were ready for.

The night of Seungkwan's party arrived, crisp and clear. You'd spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing your outfit – a sleek black dress that hugged your curves, paired with your favorite heels. You told yourself it was for your own confidence, not for any other reason.

The moment you stepped into the crowded apartment, you felt his presence. It was like a sixth sense, your body attuned to his proximity even after all these years. You scanned the room, your heart racing, but there was no sign of him.

For the first hour, you managed to avoid him, sticking close to your friends and keeping your eyes averted from the door. But as you stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, you heard his voice behind you.

"(Y/N)."

You turned slowly, steeling yourself. And there he was. Joshua. Five years older, a touch of silver at his temples, but still devastatingly handsome. His eyes, those warm brown eyes that had once looked at you with such love, now held a mixture of hope and trepidation.

"Hello, Joshua," you said, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to back away. "Thank you for not running away," he said softly. "I wasn't sure you'd even talk to me."

"I'm here for Seungkwan," you replied, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary. "This isn't about you."

Joshua nodded, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "I know. But I'm hoping... maybe we could talk? Just for a few minutes?"

You sighed, looking out over the city skyline. "What is there to talk about, Joshua? It's been five years. We've both moved on."

"Have we?" he asked, moving to stand beside you at the railing. "Because I haven't. Not really."

You turned to face him, anger bubbling up inside you. "And whose fault is that? You're the one who left, remember? You don't get to come back after five years and act like nothing's changed."

"I know," Joshua said, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I've regretted leaving every day for the past five years. You're all I think about, (Y/N). I made the biggest mistake of my life walking away from us, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to make it right."

You shook your head, stepping away from him. "It's too late for that, Joshua. We can't go back."

As you walked away, leaving him alone on the balcony, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. You were right.

For weeks after the party, Joshua's attempts to reach you intensified. It started with flowers delivered to your office – a stunning bouquet of your favorite blooms. Your coworkers cooed and speculated, but you simply moved them to the break room, ignoring the card that bore his familiar handwriting.

Next came the letters. Handwritten pages that showed up in your mailbox, pouring out his heart, explaining his actions, and begging for another chance. You told yourself you were going to throw them away unread, but each night found you poring over his words, tears staining the pages.

Then there was the singing telegram – a mortifying experience that left your entire office buzzing with gossip. As the poor college student in a ridiculous costume belted out a heartfelt rendition of "your song," you wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Each gesture chipped away at your resolve, even as you tried to maintain your distance. You found yourself lying awake at night, memories of your time together playing on an endless loop. The good times – lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, surprise picnics in the park, the way he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world. But also the bad – the fights that grew more frequent towards the end, the distance that had grown between you, the day he'd walked out with nothing but a suitcase and a broken promise.

Your friends were divided on the issue. Ranee, ever the romantic, thought you should hear him out. "People change, (Y/N)," she'd say over wine and takeout. "Maybe he really has grown up. Don't you owe it to yourself to at least listen?"

But Jihoon, who'd seen you through the worst of the breakup, was adamantly against it. "He had his chance," he'd argue, eyes flashing with protective anger. "He doesn't get to waltz back in and disrupt your life just because he's decided he made a mistake."

You appreciated their concern, but in the end, you knew the decision had to be yours. And despite your best efforts to stay strong, to remember the pain he'd caused, you could feel your resolve weakening.

Then came the night that changed everything.

You were settling in for a quiet evening at home, a glass of wine in hand and your favorite movie queued up, when a commotion outside your apartment door caught your attention. Frowning, you muted the TV and approached cautiously, peering through the peephole.

Your heart nearly stopped at what you saw.

Joshua was on his knees in the hallway, a bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at your door, unaware that you were watching. His voice, muffled but clear, carried through the wood.

"(Y/N), please. I know you're in there. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm begging you to give me a chance."

You pressed your forehead against the door, closing your eyes as his words washed over you.

"I was stupid for letting you go, and I've spent every day since then regretting it. You're still the one for me, (Y/N). You've always been the one. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Please, just open the door."

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it. Five years of hurt, of carefully rebuilding your life, warred against the undeniable pull you still felt towards him.

"I'm not giving up," Joshua continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll stay here all night if I have to. I'll come back every day until you're ready to talk to me. Because I know, deep down, that we're meant to be together. Please, (Y/N). Just give me one more chance."

You leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. Memories flooded your mind – the day you met, your first kiss, the night he told you he loved you. But also the fights, the growing distance, the day he'd walked out. You'd worked so hard to move on, to build a life without him. Could you really risk opening that door again?

As if he could sense your indecision, Joshua's pleas grew more urgent. "I know I hurt you. I know I left you alone, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. But being back here, being close to you again... it's made me realize that you're still the one for me. You always have been."

You found yourself standing, drawn to his voice like a magnet. Your hand reached for the doorknob of its own accord.

"I've tried to start again, to find somebody else," Joshua continued, unaware of your internal struggle. "But I can't get you out of my head. The memories, the things we said to each other... they're always there. I can't move on, (Y/N). Not without knowing I did everything I could to make things right between us."

With a shaky breath, you turned the knob. As you slowly opened the door, Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. He scrambled to his feet, the flowers clutched tightly in his hand.

"You have five minutes," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After that, if I tell you to leave, you go. And you don't come back. Understood?"

Joshua nodded eagerly, relief washing over his features. "Thank you, (Y/N). That's all I'm asking for. A chance to explain, to show you how much you mean to me."

You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. As he passed, his familiar scent – a mix of cologne and something uniquely him – enveloped you, bringing with it a rush of memories. You closed the door and turned to face him, arms crossed protectively over your chest.

"Talk," you said simply.

Joshua took a deep breath, setting the flowers on a nearby table. "First, I want to say how sorry I am. Not just for leaving, but for how I handled everything leading up to it. I was young and stupid and scared of the intensity of what I felt for you. Instead of talking to you about my fears, I pushed you away. I convinced myself that leaving was the right thing to do, that we'd both be better off. But I was wrong. So incredibly wrong."

You remained silent, watching him carefully. Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you remembered all too well.

"These past five years have been... empty," he continued. "I threw myself into my work, traveled, tried to convince myself I was living this great, exciting life. But nothing felt right. Nothing felt like home. Because home was always with you, (Y/N)."

"Why now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "Because I finally realized what an idiot I'd been. Because the thought of going another day without you in my life was unbearable. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, let alone a second chance. But I had to try. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least tell you how I feel."

You turned away, moving to the window to look out at the city lights. "And how do you feel, Joshua?"

You heard him step closer, though he didn't touch you. "I love you, (Y/N). I never stopped loving you. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep. Every good thing that happens, I want to share with you. Every bad day, I wish you were there to make it better. You're it for me. You're the one."

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously. "Love isn't always enough, Joshua. You proved that when you walked out five years ago."

"I know," he said softly. "But I've changed. I've grown up. I know now that love isn't just a feeling – it's a choice. And I choose you, (Y/N). I'll choose you every day for the rest of my life if you'll let me."

You turned to face him, taking in the earnest expression on his face, the love and hope shining in his eyes. "And what if I say no? What if I tell you to leave and never come back?"

Pain flashed across Joshua's features, but he stood his ground. "Then I'll respect your decision. It'll break my heart, but I'll go. Because more than anything, I want you to be happy. Even if that happiness doesn't include me."

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility. You found yourself at a crossroads, the path forward unclear. On one side lay the safety of the life you'd built without him – predictable, stable, but tinged with a loneliness you'd never quite been able to shake. On the other, the unknown – the risk of heartbreak, but also the potential for a love deeper and stronger than before.

"I can't..." you started, your voice breaking. You took a deep breath and tried again. "I can't just forget everything that happened, Joshua. The pain, the years of trying to move on... it's not that simple."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking for a chance to make new memories, better ones. To show you every day how much you mean to me, how sorry I am for the pain I caused."

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. When you opened them again, Joshua was still there, waiting patiently, hope etched in every line of his face.

"I can't promise you anything," you said finally. "I don't know if I can trust you again, or if I even want to try. But..." you paused, hardly believing the words about to leave your mouth, "I'm willing to listen. To take things slowly and see where they lead."

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's more than I could have hoped for," he said softly. "Thank you, (Y/N). I promise you won't regret this."

As he turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back at you with eyes full of renewed determination, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were standing on the precipice of something monumental. Whether it was the beginning of a new chapter or the final closing of an old one remained to be seen. But one thing was certain – Joshua's persistence had finally broken through your defenses, and now, for better or worse, you were embarking on a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

The door closed behind him, and you sank onto your couch, emotions swirling within you. You picked up your phone, needing to talk to someone who could offer an outside perspective. Ranee answered on the second ring.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I think I'm in trouble," you said, your voice shaky. "Joshua... he was just here. On his knees in the in the hallway," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Begging me to give him another chance."

Ranee gasped. "Oh my god, (Y/N). What did you do?"

You closed your eyes, still hardly believing it yourself. "I... I let him in. We talked."

"And?" Ranee pressed, her voice a mixture of concern and excitement.

"And... I told him I'd be willing to listen. To take things slowly." You let out a shaky breath. "Ranee, what am I doing? Am I crazy for even considering this?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Ranee spoke again, her voice was gentle. "You're not crazy, (Y/N). You're human. And whether you want to admit it or not, Joshua was a huge part of your life. It's natural to have conflicting feelings."

"But what if I'm making a huge mistake?" you asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since Joshua left. "What if he hurts me again?"

"That's always a risk in any relationship," Ranee pointed out. "But let me ask you this – do you think you'd regret it more if you gave him a chance and it didn't work out, or if you turned him away without ever knowing what could have been?"

Her question gave you pause. You thought about the past five years, about the life you'd built for yourself. It was a good life, comfortable and safe. But there had always been something missing, a void you'd never quite been able to fill.

"I don't know," you admitted. "I just... I'm scared, Ranee. I worked so hard to move on, to be okay without him. What if letting him back in undoes all of that?"

"Then you'll pick yourself up and move on again," Ranee said firmly. "But this time, you'll do it knowing you gave it your all. No what-ifs, no regrets."

After hanging up with Ranee, you sat in the quiet of your apartment, mulling over her words. Your eyes fell on the bouquet Joshua had brought, still sitting on the table where he'd left it. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at your lips. He'd remembered your favorite flowers after all these years.

Your phone buzzed with a text:

From Joshua: "Thank you again for giving me a chance to explain. I meant every word I said tonight. I'll wait as long as it takes. You're still the one, (Y/N). Always."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Slowly, you typed out a reply:

To Joshua: "I meant what I said too. Slow. I need time to process all of this."

His response came almost immediately:

From Joshua: "Of course. We'll go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm just grateful for the opportunity. Sleep well, (Y/N)."

As you got ready for bed that night, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Part of you was terrified of the vulnerability that came with opening your heart again. But another part, a part that had been dormant for far too long, felt a flicker of excitement at the possibility of reconnecting with Joshua.

The next few weeks were a delicate dance of tentative steps forward and cautious retreats. True to his word, Joshua respected your need for space, never pushing for more than you were ready to give. Your interactions started small – text messages exchanged throughout the day, brief phone calls that gradually grew longer.

Then came the coffee dates. The first one was awkward, both of you unsure of how to act around each other after so much time apart. But as the weeks went by, you found yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm. You talked about your lives over the past five years – your career advancements, his travels, the lessons you'd both learned.

One afternoon, as you sat across from Joshua in your favorite café, he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Nothing, I just... I can't believe I'm here with you. There were so many times over the past five years when I thought I'd lost this chance forever."

You felt a familiar pang in your chest – a mixture of old hurt and new hope. "Joshua..."

"I know," he said quickly. "I know we're taking things slow. And I respect that. I just want you to know how grateful I am for every moment I get to spend with you."

His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You found yourself reaching across the table, your hand covering his. It was the first time you'd initiated physical contact since he'd come back into your life, and you felt him tense in surprise before relaxing into your touch.

"I'm grateful too," you admitted softly. "I won't lie – there's still a part of me that's scared. That's waiting for the other shoe to drop. But... I'm glad we're doing this. Whatever 'this' is."

Joshua turned his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours. "It's whatever you want it to be, (Y/N). I'm here for as long as you'll have me."

As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself slowly letting your guard down. The walls you'd built around your heart began to crumble, brick by brick. Joshua was patient, attentive, and consistently present in a way he hadn't been towards the end of your relationship five years ago.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of old hurts resurfacing. Arguments where past grievances bubbled up, threatening to derail the progress you'd made. But unlike before, you both made a conscious effort to communicate, to work through your issues rather than letting them fester.

It was during one of these conversations, late one night as you walked through the park where you'd first met, that Joshua stopped suddenly, turning to face you.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice serious. "I need you to know something."

You felt your heart rate quicken, a mix of anticipation and anxiety coursing through you. "What is it?"

Joshua took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know we've been taking things slow, and I respect that. But I want to be clear about where I stand. I love you. I'm in love with you. And if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day."

You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the emotion behind them. For a moment, you were transported back in time – to the day he'd first told you he loved you, to all the dreams and plans you'd made together. But this time, instead of fear or doubt, you felt a sense of certainty wash over you.

"Joshua," you said softly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I love you too. I think... I think I always have, even when I was trying so hard not to."

The smile that lit up his face was brighter than any you'd ever seen. He pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours. "So where do we go from here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your heart full of hope and possibility. "Forward," you said simply. "Together."

As Joshua's lips met yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be challenges ahead, old wounds to heal, and new obstacles to overcome. But for the first time in five years, you felt truly, completely whole.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through you – love, frustration, happiness, and a touch of amused exasperation. Joshua's persistence had not only won him a second chance but had also reignited a love that had never truly died. As you stood there, hand in hand in the park where your story began, the future stretching out before you, a realization hit you.

"DAMN YOU, JOSHUA HONG!" you exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise.

His eyes widened, a mix of confusion and concern crossing his face. "What? What's wrong?"

But before he could say anything else, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close again. "Damn you and your persistence," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips despite your words. "Making me fall in love with you all over again."

Relief and joy flooded Joshua's features as he understood. "I told you I wouldn't give up," he said softly, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Well, congratulations," you replied, your tone a mixture of sarcasm and genuine affection. "You win. Are you happy now?"

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was answer enough, but he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Happier than I've ever been."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you pulled him in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. As you lost yourself in the moment, you realized that sometimes, the most beautiful love stories are the ones that withstand the test of time and separation, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before – even if they require a little (or a lot) of persistence along the way.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but laugh. "You know," you said, intertwining your fingers with his, "if you ever pull a disappearing act like that again, I'll hunt you down myself."

Joshua grinned, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Noted. Though I have to say, I kind of like this feisty side of you."

"Oh, you haven't seen feisty yet, Hong," you retorted, but your eyes were sparkling with happiness.

And if this man ever forget how lucky he is? Well, you'd be more than happy to remind him – right after you kissed him senseless, of course.

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