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ddejavvu · 3 days ago

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Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Six) (18+) / SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 8.3k / navigation / inbox / summer of series

A/N: another very late installment! I am really, truly sorry that it has taken me this long to update this series. it's very near and dear to my heart but unfortunately I was just having a very hard time with my life and there wasn't much motivation for me to write anything. but i'm back and better than ever, and you can check out my 'summer of series' to see more upcoming content! thank you to those who waited, and welcome to any new readers <3 this is our longest chapter yet :o

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Plowing through pizza has never been easier than it is now, because you’re so intent on stuffing your mouth full to impede your ability to answer prying questions that your lunch is gone in a matter of minutes. You consider swiping from Jake’s plate considering he’s taken at least ten percent of your lunch every day for as long as you’ve known him, but reciprocating any of this ‘love’ that Danica deludes may not work in your favor.

You’re left to sit awkwardly back in your chair, no food to eat while the rest of your companions finish theirs at a reasonable pace.

It’s noticeable, because everyone else is still making their way through pizza that’s thinner and stiffer than it should be, but not altogether bad. Jake and Daniel both side-eye you, but Daniel shifts forwards as he notices pizza sauce smeared over your cheek.

“Y/N, you’ve got-”

“I got it.” Jake cuts in, reaching out and nearly smacking you in the jaw in an effort to get his thumb over the stain. You jerk away, startled, but Jake already has red sauce on the pad of his thumb that he’s offering to you like you’re going to suck it off.

“Want it?” He grins, and your lips remain firmly sealed as you shake your head no.

“Fine, picky.” Jake shrugs, raising his hand to his mouth and taking his thumb between his lips himself. You watch as he sucks the pizza sauce off of his finger for longer than he needs to, eyes fixed so intently on yours that you’re almost certain he would rather be licking it directly off of your cheek.

You’re glad he hadn’t- you’d have smacked him with how wound up you are. You feel like a prey animal, cornered and shaking with nerves that could morph into aggression at a moment’s notice.

You turn back to your empty plate, ignoring the way that Jake tips a half-eaten piece of pizza your way.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about cooties.” Jake raises a brow, “We accidentally used the same towel once after the beach.”

“And I showered twice when I got home to clean myself.” You recall the incident with grave resignation, remembering the look on Phoenix’s face when she’d spotted the sherbet stain on the corner of the towel you were wearing, one that Jake had put there earlier, just after his own shower. You’re not surprised he’s still bringing it up- just one more thing to needle you with, but you wish he wouldn’t.

“More for me.” He acquiesces, voice almost awkward before he takes another bite, and you look at Danica to see if she’s noticed only to find that she’s staring hard at Jake already.

Interesting.

You don’t know how to fill awkward silences with Jake, because there almost never are any. You’re too used to his loud, brash voice that once he gives in and rolls over, a sight you’ve rarely ever seen before, you feel unequipped to talk. You don’t talk to Jake- or you barely ever do, you mostly quip. And tease, and jab, and rib, and mock. Everything’s a dogfight with him, and the first to run out of bullets crashes and burns.

Jake’s not the type to crash and burn.

“I’m done.” Daniel leans back in his chair, a hand slung lazily over his stomach, “I think cruises are bad for me. I always overeat.”

“We could walk,” Danica suggests, “There’s some shops a few decks above us.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about the shops,” You scoff, feeling Jake’s shit-eating grin despite refusing to look at him, “I’m not interested, thank you.”

You expect pushback from Jake, but what you don’t expect is Danica, who seems to be making it her sacred mission to force you out of your comfort zone.

“Oh, come on. Please? You can shop with me.” She promises, reaching out a hand adorned with a delicate golden bracelet, “We can leave the boys behind.”

You’re still wary about her insistence into butting into your rivalry with Jake, but you wonder if perhaps she doesn’t want to be alone with Daniel the same way you don’t want to be alone with Jake. Maybe there’s pressure there that she can’t handle, or maybe there’s not and she doesn’t want to face the implications.

You’d think signing up for a sex cruise would really take the emotional turmoil out of having sex.

“They’ll kill each other,” you take her hand, letting her squeeze yours tight, “And we can’t get new roommates so that’d really take the fun out of the whole sex cruise thing.”

“We can start at the candy shop,” She grins, tugging you to your feet, “I owe my niece some gummy bears.”

Danica reaches for her purse, a sweet baby blue over-the-shoulder bag that Daniel gently pushes her hand away from.

“I’ve got it.” He offers, smiling up at the both of you, “You two just have fun browsing and I can hold whatever you get.”

There’s an unmistakable grin on Danica’s face that she turns around to hide, something akin to a giddy schoolgirl at Daniel’s chivalry. It’s sweet, admittedly, but what’s less sweet is the way that Jake makes a grab for your own bag, already hooked over your shoulder.

“Gimme that.”

“What- no!” You scoff, stumbling backwards to avoid his grip, “That’s my bag!”

“I’m trying to carry it for you.” Jake insists, as stubborn as a mule, “Let go!”

“You’re mugging me!” You shriek, dragging Danica along with you when you finally wriggle out of his grip and making a mad dash for other side of the deck, “Danica, if we can make it to the stairs we can push him overboard!”

She giggles as you two run across the deck, probably something you shouldn’t be doing considering you’re poolside and adults, but something you do giddily anyways. Daniel and Jake jog to keep up, and neither wants to be around each other, but both want to be first to reach you. This means they keep pace, and when you pass a netted-in basketball court, your head turns to watch the players.

They’re nice to ogle. There’s men and women, but your eyes are drawn towards a particularly muscled man, tall and thick around the arms and thighs. He has your attention until he fully misses a shot, feet away from the basket, and you and Danica cringe in unison.

“He had me until that throw.” Danica admits, trying not to laugh so as not to attract any attention and hurt the man’s feelings, “Can you boys do better than that?”

It’s such clear bait that you assume both men will scoff at her, tease her for wanting to see their sweaty muscles and continue towards the interior door. Instead, Danica’s purse is handed rather unceremoniously back to her and Jake strips of his shirt. He doesn’t need to, but he does. Of course.

“I can run laps around him.” Jake vows, beelining for the entrance to the court while Daniel takes his flip-flops off for better leverage.

“Just sit and watch.” Daniel grins, pointing towards benches opposite the court, “Get some sun, and we’ll show you how it’s really done.”

“Men are dumb,” You sigh, watching the two you’re stuck with integrate themselves into the game already going, “They couldn’t tell that was on purpose?”

“Jake wants to show off for you. And Daniel, too.”

“They wants to show off for you, too.” You level her with a look that’s half exasperated, half self-conscious, “I’m not- I’m not trying to steal him away from you. Daniel, that is. You can have Jake- no returns.”

Danica grins, her smile glowing, “I’m not angry that Daniel likes you. I like you too. I just think you’re stupid.”

“Thank you.” You nod, hoping the conversation ends there. You turn towards the court, trying to track Daniel’s movement among the crowd, but latching onto Jake instead. He towers over most of the men on the court, and with his military muscles, most of them have no chance.

“I’m- sorry. For pushing. I just think,” Her voice takes on a wistful note, “I think you two could really be soulmates if you tried.”

“Soulmates don’t try,” You laugh, “That’s the whole point. They’re intrinsically made for each other. Perfect from the get-go.”

“You are made perfect for each other. You’re just acting stupid.” She clarifies, “You’re both stubborn, but that means you’ll match wits with him. He wouldn’t want someone who just gives in every time.”

“That’s certainly what he’s wanted in the past,” You scoff, “Woman after woman after woman who doesn’t bother to save herself from the most obviously sleazy pilot in the bar.”

“That’s why he never sees them again,” She nods, “Because they only satisfied him short-term. Men mature slower than women, did you know that? They’re still figuring things out, bless them. I think he’s starting to realize that hookups aren’t sustainable, and that he wants something long-term. And that’s not to say you can’t resent his dating history,” Danica gives you a meaningful glance, “I can understand why you would be slow to trust him. But he’s trying. He backed off at lunch, right?”

“Right before he tried to steal my purse.” You grumble, despite knowing she’s right. But still, attributing his uncharacteristic lack of an argument to love- that’s a notion you don’t want to even begin digesting.

“Men are dumb.” She reminds you, “I think he’s trying to show you that he’s changed, and that his ideals have too. You just need to let him. Give him a chance.”

“I’ve given him plenty of chances before,” You sigh, world-weary as you watch Daniel snake the ball from Jake, “How many is too many?”

“You might not know until you get hurt.” Danica levels with you, placing her hand atop yours once more, “But you won’t know how many it takes to work, either. Just- be casual.”

“Casual.” You raise a brow at her, “With Jake? He’s incapable of being casual about anything. Even when he tries you can see the muscles in his neck about to pop.”

“Yeah, I saw him almost jump Daniel in the pool.” She admits, watching as Jake slam-dunks the ball despite three pairs of hands clawing at him, attempting to slow or stop him, “Has he ever started a fistfight before?”

“He’s not- mean. Not like that, not- he’s classy, I guess.” It’s a word you wouldn’t normally attribute to Jake, but he doesn’t go around starting fights like a teenage boy, “He swears up and down he’s a southern gentleman.”

“A gentleman!” Danica laughs, “A gentleman who was staring at your ass in that bathing suit, earlier.”

“I figured. Whatever,” You shrug, “I chose it because it makes my ass look nice. It’s not Jake’s fault we ran into each other, I guess.”

“That’s why I’m sure you’re soulmates,” Danica confesses, “The same cabin, on the same sex cruise? And you hate each other? I see some sweet, sweet angry sex in your future.”

You laugh, despite yourself. You let yourself get carried away in girly giggles, and seeing the warmth in her expression makes a twinge of guilt flare up in your chest about the way you’d snapped at her earlier.

“Hey, I’m- sorry. I’m really sorry for freaking out on you earlier, Danica.” You murmur, eyes downcast as your smile fades, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, if I did.”

“It’s okay.” Despite the way your face had dropped, hers only grows more tender, “I understand. Like I said, I shouldn’t have pushed. But I hope you know I’m not trying to make your life harder. I suppose I don’t have any business butting in, I just see two people that are afraid to be vulnerable around each other despite maybe having the capacity to love each other for eternity.”

You glare at her from beneath your lashes, and she throws up her hands in mock-surrender, “I said maybe!”

“Eternity is a long time.” You muse, focusing again on the basketball scrimmage happening before you. The nets blur your vision, but it’s clear that the men are working up a sweat. Jake makes another basket, and you notice desperation in the way that Daniel lunges for it after it falls.

It’s not his fault- navy men just do it better.

“That’s why destiny gave you a free trial.” Danica grins, “This week, you don’t have to wear your heart on your sleeve. He won’t, either. Just- be casual, like I said. Be receptive, I’m not asking you to fall all over him, just- watch him. Notice him. Look at what he does and think about why he does it. Yes, he did try to liberate your purse from your shoulder earlier like he was getting at your wallet. But he did it because Daniel did it for me much more gracefully a few seconds before. He’s trying simple things: sharing food, holding bags-” She grins conspiratorially at you, “Five bucks says he’ll try to hold the door for you when we go inside later. He’s testing the waters, okay? He’s trying to change, but like I said before, he’s afraid of being vulnerable around you just the same as you are around him, even if he doesn’t seem like it.”

“How do you know all of this?” You ask her, eyes narrowed as you study her from across the bench, “Are you some sort of all-seeing eye?”

“I asked him,” She blinks, simple as that, “And I’m not going to share everything he said, because I think it’ll come better from him, but I can at least tell you with one-hundred percent certainty that he’s trying. Just- be gentle with him, okay? Let him try.”

“He can try,” Your voice is weak as you watch Jake sink a third shot, “But I can’t guarantee I’ll care.”

“That’s okay. You’re afraid of him hurting you, he’s afraid he’s already hurt you too much. If you don’t want to be with him, that’s fair. Just give him one more chance.”

“One more.” You sigh, “But not for him. For you.”

“I’m glad I met you, Y/N,” Danica smiles, standing from the bench and offering you a hand, “Now, let’s get them out of there before they start punching each other.”

Jake and Daniel are, in fact, facing off. Daniel shoves roughly at Jake’s chest but he stands shorter than his opponent, so it looks almost comical when Jake doesn’t move an inch. His strong thighs keep him steady, and his eyes blaze with a challenge.

“Jake!” You call, but both heads turn your way, “Guys- let’s go shopping.”

“Fine.” Daniel grunts, elbowing past Jake towards the entrance to the court. You’re sure Jake has thoroughly gotten on his nerves- you know the feeling, but something about the way his tensed muscles make him look like a coiled spring makes you gravitate towards Jake instead.

“What did you do to him? He looks like he might punch someone in the face.”

“Yeah, me.” Jake redresses himself, fixing the asymmetrical waistband of his shorts and putting his shirt back into place, “He’s just mad he’s too short to dunk.”

“Poor Danica.” You hum as Daniel stalks three steps ahead of her, “I’m gonna walk with her.”

Jake doesn’t provide any arguments when you rush to catch up with your newfound friend.

“Men are scary when they’re angry.” You nudge your side against hers, speaking in a hushed whisper “Did he say anything to you?”

“No, but he’s sure not offering to hold my purse anymore,” Danica grins, “Men are so dramatic.”

“It’s part of our charm, ladies.” Jake pushes between you, gentler than Daniel would have done in his angered state, “And it seems Danny-boy has neglected his manly duties, so I’ll take this,” Jake plucks Danica’s purse carefully off of her shoulder, “And can I please hold your bag too, princess?”

“Thank you for not tackling me this time,” You glare at Jake, letting him sling your tote over the same shoulder Danica’s bag hangs from, “See? When you’re nice to women they like you.”

“Some of ‘em like me mean.” Jake shrugs, “But you lure more flies with honey, I guess..”

Jake watches Daniel push his way through the doors, and makes a grand gesture out of catching them before they can close and holding them open for the pair of you.

You owe Danica five bucks.

“After you, ladies.” Jake says, loud enough for Daniel to hear. It only tightens the muscles in his shoulders, and it makes you slow your pace, putting even more distance between you and him.

Jake doesn’t realize until he’s already slamming into you from behind, and he steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, “Woah! Sorry. I thought you’d be beelining for the sex shop. What’s the holdup?”

Danica shoots him a lethal glare over her shoulder, and tugs you closer to her side.

“We are beelining for the sex shop,” She announces, and Daniel seems to remember he has company as he slows down, chest heaving with adrenaline, or rage, or indignance, or whatever Jake has injected into his veins, “We are going to have a lingerie fashion show and there are no boys allowed.”

“No, come on! I can squeeze in the dressing room with you guys! I’ll fit!” Jake protests, but you level him with a stern glare.

“If you come into the dressing room, you’re putting on a thong.” You warn him, but nothing can rattle Jake Seresin.

“No part of me would fit in a thong,” Jake declares, herding you all towards the elevators, “Front, back, wherever- I’ve got too much goin’ on down there.”

“A bra, then.” You counter, walking backwards into the empty elevator and letting your back hit the wall, “You’ve got a bigger chest than I do.”

“If that’s what tickles your fancy,” Jake shrugs, your bag and Danica’s pressed against the wall of the elevator as he plants himself opposite you, faced away from the doors, “Everybody’s got their thing. If yours is me in a bra, so be it.”

Danica giggles. Daniel presses the button for the floor that you need.

“I’d send it to the rest of the daggers.” You threaten, hearing the doors slide shut behind Jake, “Rooster would show Mav. Phoenix would obliterate you.”

“Don’t spread it around, it’s for your eyes only.” Jake scoffs as the elevator begins its ascent, “Keep it in your spank bank, Y/N.”

Instead of lifting five floors, the elevator only moves one. The doors open again, and Daniel groans almost inaudibly at the sight he’s met with. You peer around Jake’s side to see- a lot of people. There’s a lot of people trying to board the elevator, and you pair off, parting like the red sea to fit them in.

Danica slides over to Daniel’s side, who squishes himself into the corner closest to the buttons, offering to press them for the new passengers. Jake steps closer to you, caging you into your own corner.

He raises his brows, clearly suggestive, but you know he’s teasing. That’s the thing about Jake- his constant teasing irritates you, but you know it’s just that. Teasing. He’s kidding, which is why you roll your eyes when he presses himself flush against your body.

“O-kay. Do we really need to be this close?” You ask, but chancing a glance around his shoulder reveals that, yes, you do. You’re sure he’s shimmied closer on purpose, but the woman backed up against him hasn’t given him much of a choice either.

“Does this remind you of anything?” Jake murmurs under his breath, as the elevator doors scrape closed and you begin another ascent, hopefully four floors this time, “A certain tryst with a certain bearded man yesterday?”

“He wasn’t stepping on my toes,” You glance downwards, “And I wanted to kiss him.”

“Ouch.” Jake huffs, but he shuffles his feet backwards off of yours, “What are you really gonna look at in the sex shop?”

Be vulnerable. Danica’s voice echoes in your head, as dramatically as she’d been hoping, He’s trying, be open, be casual, let him.

“Maybe just a vibrator or something.” You mumble, taking care to keep your voice between the two of you even if it’s an adults-only environment, and meeting his eye with honesty you don’t often showcase around Jake, “I can’t say I really need anything but it’d be nice to browse, I guess.”

He nods, slow and attentive, taken aback because he’s just as new to listening as you are to conversing.

When you finally, painstakingly make your way up four floors of passengers trying to squeeze on and off every second, Jake lets you and Danica exit the elevator first. It had been uncomfortable, but convenient when Daniel was storming ahead of you- he and Jake had been kept apart, but now the two nearly bump shoulders again as they trail behind you.

Their array of shops is, admittedly, impressive at first glance, considering you’re in the middle of the ocean. You take pictures of the glittering lights to have as keepsakes, but far away from any cell service, you can’t show them off to your friends just yet.

“Gummy bears,” Danica reminds you, before you can wander off into whatever store catches your fancy, “You can get duty-free booze later, for now let me make sure my niece won’t kill me for coming back empty-handed.”

She pulls you towards the candy shop, and any doubts you’d had about a fanciful confectionary on board an all-adults ship disappear when you step inside.

There’s sex candy.

You shouldn’t be surprised, because even an ice sculpture you’d spotted from across the deck earlier was shaped into a male torso with well-defined abs. There’s gummy candies in the shape of genitals, there’s chocolates meant to throw you into a hormone-fueled sex craze, there’s flavored condoms, there’s candy lingerie.

There’s a very small section of actual candy, but it’s where you and Danica have to look for her niece’s gummy bears.

“These are fine,” She eyes the package warily, “There’s nothing adult I’m missing about these, is there?”

“No penises.” You promise, looking over the matte-plastic bag to ensure that even the patterning isn’t crude, “But I think it’s just about the only thing in there without them.”

“Y/N! Look at these!” Jake calls, proving your point when he holds up phallic lollipops, “Dick suckers!”

You suppose if there were ever a time and a place to shout that across a store, it’s here and now. But that doesn’t mean you don’t still cringe, and you duck behind Danica to examine a package on a low shelf, near the corner of the store.

It’s those sex chocolates you’ve seen advertised online, in greatly-exaggerated tiktok videos or tweets. All of the posts you’ve seen about them have been sponsored by the company, so you doubt its efficacy.

Still, you pick a package up and tuck it into a basket that’s stacked in the corner of the room.

“Good idea,” Danica grins, throwing her gummy bears into the cart, “We should see how much Jake’s willing to pay for.”

“If he buys them he’ll want to share,” You make some convoluted sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh, “And I’m not sucking the same dick as him.”

Your basket slowly but surely starts to fill, until one of the packages falls when you turn to look at something Daniel’s pointing out to you.

“Oh-!” You turn to grab it, but there’s already someone there, and Jake shoots you a heavy glance from where he’s kneeling on the floor beside you. It’s a sight- you’re not sure he’s ever looked up at you instead of down, and something in your stomach tightens as he stands back up.

“It broke,” He nods to the chocolate Danica had added into your basket, a piece molded so that it can be tucked between your legs and cover your sex. It’s meant to make someone eat through it before they can eat you, but it’s snapped in half now, completely useless.

“We’ll pay for it,” Danica keeps it in her own grip, grabbing another one and reaching for a new basket, “But I do want one that’s still intact.”

“Don’t bother with one of those for us.” Jake tells you, heaving the basket out of your arms and into his own, “Wouldn’t hold me back for very long at all.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t, Pussy Eater Extraordinaire,” You scoff, “Men always think they’re better at it than they are.”

“I’ve had nothing but glowing reviews,” Jake boasts, but his eye twitches slightly as he reconsiders his statement, “But- I’d trust your input more than theirs.”

“Why’s that?” You bite, “I’m a harsher critic?”

“Exactly.” Jake nods, “I’ll even take pointers if you’ve got any.”

“I’m pointing that way.” You raise your finger towards the cash register, “If you buy the candy lingerie I might be more inclined to let you see me in it.”

He blanches, “You’re serious?”

“See me, Seresin,” You point again to the register, “No touching, no eating.”

“I’ll take it.” He nearly trips over his feet, and Danica erupts with laughter as he pulls out his wallet.

“He really did it!” She gushes, “See? He wouldn’t be buying cherry-flavored condoms if he didn’t want you to use them on him.”

“I have no doubts that he wants to have sex with me.” You remind her, “It’s what comes after that I’m afraid of.”

“After one condom there’s another.” She points to the big number 10 on the side of the box, “In between rounds you can ask him what you guys are.”

She can tell you’re about to groan, because before you can she grabs both of your hands, looking imploringly at you, “Y/N, this is a sex cruise! Let loose. Even if he does tell the whole navy about you- which he won’t, you can tell the whole navy it happened on a sex cruise. That’s a completely valid reason to let him fuck your brains out! You came here to fuck, so fuck.”

“We’ll see,” You grumble, “Cherry’s not my favorite flavor.”

Jake’s total at the register is comically high, but you don’t feel bad because you two get the same paycheck, and as a specialized squadron you’re not exactly down on your luck. He makes no complaints, and pointedly keeps the bag in his own hand instead of letting Daniel fulfill his earlier promise.

“If I let him hold it he might throw it down on the ground during one of his temper tantrums,” Jake murmurs conspiratorially to you, and you appreciate that he has the good sense to keep his voice low, pitched only for your ears as you meander towards the next store, “The chocolate underpants don’t deserve to snap a second time.”

“He’s not gonna throw a temper tantrum,” You groan, “You have a way of getting on people’s nerves, you know that?”

“Okay? And I’ll admit I riled him up, but that’s no excuse to act like a kid. Stomping around, taking it out on you and Danica.”

You raise a brow at him, unimpressed, “Eerily similar to the way you used to act on the tarmac whenever one of us beat you in an exercise?”

Jake’s mouth tightens, “Used to. I grew up a little. When’s the last time I threw a fit?”

You want to reference one of his bursts of antagonistic energy from the past 48 hours, but you have to admit, he’s much more controlled than he would have been a few years ago. You promised Danica you’d give him a chance, so you’ll give him credit where credit is due.

You settle for a reluctant, “You’re getting better.”

It’s another awkward dance, his jutted-out chin pulling back and loosening from the way it had been clenched tight in irritation. It’s your wayward eyes, not meeting his own but not looking at the floor either, just- roaming behind him.

It just so happens that behind him is a very intricately designed vibrator.

You hadn’t paid much attention to your surroundings, but Danica and Daniel had given you and your apparent bickering a wide berth as they’d headed into the next store in the row. It’s the sex shop, you realize now, and you and Jake are facing off in the entrance.

It’s an awkward thing, debating character growth between a display of vibrators and a display of fleshlights. You suppose there’s one for each of you if this doesn’t work out.

“After you.” Jake offers, prodding your limp form into the shop when your legs struggle to work, “We can shop for tonight.”

“I’ll be using that tonight,” You point at a ball gag, “I don’t want to hear a word from you.”

“That won’t shut me up. Y’know, When Harry Met Sally is my sister’s favorite movie? I could take a page out of Meg Ryan’s book and start moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear.”

“She did that in a diner,” You correct him, “And she did it with grace. You could never be Meg Ryan.”

“I couldn’t be Billy Crystal either.” Jake laments, “Turtlenecks don’t look good on me.”

Before you can fall back into the familiar pattern of quipping back and forth with Jake, an old rut in the road that’s familiar even if it digs its own trench deeper, he catches sight of something behind you and his face twists.

“What’s that supposed to do?”

It’s not technically a rose toy. It’s something similar, adjacent maybe, still made for suction and vaginal pleasure.

“It stimulates suction. Y’know, on the clit?” You explain, and Jake’s face blanches on top of his aghast expression.

“It sucks on you? That sounds dangerous. ‘Sounds like someone’s gonna get their clit ripped off.”

“I’ll test it out and let you know,” You grin, plucking it off of the shelf and adding it into the handheld basket that Danica’s started, “Maybe I’ll do it when you’re sleeping tonight.”

“I’ll hear you anyways. I’m a light sleeper.” Jake reveals, and your stomach drops. Did he hear-?

No.

He’d have made it known if he’d heard your.. predicament.

It’s Hangman, after all. If he had something on you, he’d use it.

You shake yourself out of your funk and watch as Danica and Daniel contemplate getting a strap-on. You respect him for being open to trying it, if he hasn’t already. Jake’s face hasn’t pinkened from its earlier shade of sheet-white, so you make the very mature decision to not teasingly suggest that you use one on him.

Instead you turn towards the lingerie, eyeing a red set with stereotypical lace lining the edges.

“That’d look nice on you.” Jake follows where you lead, and though his comment is suggestive, it’s almost respectful, “I think you should get it.”

“It’s too expensive,” You wrinkle your nose, “Not for something paper-thin that you’re probably meant to rip off anyways.”

“I’ll be careful,” Jake vows, and now the cracks in his facade start to show, “I promise I’ll handle you like a gentleman, darlin’.”

You turn on your heel and glide over to Danica.

“He’s trying to disrobe me,” You inform her with a sigh, “When am I allowed to conclude that he’s not changing?”

“Just-” You miss the way that she glares daggers at him from across the store, “He’s trying to change. He won’t be a completely different man, remember- you have to adapt too. It’s a compromise.”

Unfortunately, she has a point. If Jake is changing- and that’s a big if, you’ll need to meet him somewhere in the middle. But this whole Jake-changing-for-you thing is still highly suspect, and though Danica’s insistence is beginning to wear through your hide, you’re not fully convinced.

“Fine.” You sigh, “But I’m still getting the rose toy in case he doesn’t work out.”

“I love my rose toy.” She admits with a grin, “But there’s nothing like getting woken up between your legs. It’s different when someone surprises you with it instead of you shoving the toy down there yourself.”

“I’d love to be woken up by oral.” Your teeth sink into your pillowy bottom lip, and Jake’s footsteps stop behind you where he’s caught up to your group. You miss the look he shares with Danica over your head.

You browse the sex shop for a fair amount of time, but there’s not as much fun to be had as there was in the candy shop. They had variety and exciting things you’d never seen before, and here- well, they have a lot of dildos, that’s for sure. There’s a bland feeling that comes over you as you pace shelves and shelves of the same sex toys, and you wind up with only the suction-based rose toy ripoff at the counter.

“Scoot-” Jake comes up behind you, gently pushing you aside instead of elbowing you out of the way as he extends his own card towards the reader, “I’ve got this one too.”

“No- you don’t have to buy me a sex toy, Jake!” You argue, but the reader is already beeping, having accepted his payment, “I was mostly teasing about the candies. I’m not using you as a sugar daddy- you don’t have to keep picking up my tabs.”

“I’m picking up this one,” Jake carefully tucks the bag into the larger one from the confectionary, “I want you to think of me every time you use it.”

Something terrible, horrible, and unwanted in your brain supplies that you’d already have done that. That the experience of being stuck with him on a boat, of waking up grinding against his thigh, of being at each other’s throats for days on end would have cemented itself into the fucktoy whether you wanted to or not. But that’s an intrusive thought you have no desire to express, and instead you fall silent, taking Danica’s advice of meeting in the middle.

This silence, and the troubling thoughts that induced it, follow you through the next few shops in the row, showcasing duty-free liquor, off-brand ‘designer’ purses, and perfume that all smells the same. Danica holds up samples and swatches, shows you jewelry and handbags, but there’s not much she can do to shake you out of your spiral.

Do you want to fuck Hangman?

No, you certainly don’t want to fuck Hangman.

But Jake?

This Jake, the one who’d splashed around with you in the pool and sensed your uneasiness towards Daniel’s outburst, offering his own soothing presence as a distraction. This Jake, the one who’d muscled down decades of manly Texan pride to call for a truce- something you never thought his competitive spirit would be capable of. This Jake, the one who tilts his chin towards the section of books he knows you prefer in their sparse bookstore- this one you could certainly attempt to get used to.

It’s a hard thing to swallow, when something threatens to upend the life you’ve precariously crafted for yourself. When something challenges your notions of true and false, when someone changes. Can people change? Can he change, can Jake really fix his behavior to the point where you’d want to not only fuck him, but date him? Dating Hangman is laughable. Dating Jake is- something you’ve never considered before.

It’s troubling, and your brow remains creased for the remainder of your shopping trip. There’s an underwhelming amount of stores, and you wander further out, down towards the casino at the end of the deck.

“I didn’t bring cash,” Jake’s hand flies to his wallet, “And I don’t trust a casino on a fuckboat with my credit card.”

“We should go back,” Danica agrees, turning to grab Daniel’s hand. He’s calmed now, perhaps embarrassed for his temper earlier, and turns soft eyes towards her as she asks, “Should we go get couples massages?”

Jake waits on you for an answer- that’s new. You tuck the information aside for processing later, and you shake your head wearily, “I need some fresh air. You guys can go without me.”

“Couple’s massage with an empty bed’s pretty sad.” Jake hums, the drawling lilt of his southern accent sweet like honey, “You two enjoy yourselves. I’ll take our stuff back to our room.”

There’s a chorus of agreements, and you bid Danica goodbye with a soft squeeze to her hand, and a sheepish smile from beneath your lashes.

“Trust him!” She urges in a whisper, disguising it as a hug, “We can meet up again later.”

“Tonight for drinks?” You ask, glancing at your phone and seeing that it’s hours into the afternoon, “I think I’d like a casual dinner after last night.”

“We can do casual.” Jake agrees, and you don’t miss the way he says we.

“Drinks,” She nods, and Daniel tries to meet your eyes where you’re trying to avoid his.

Everything’s so complicated now. You wish Danica hadn’t managed to get into your head- you wish Jake was still the cocky pilot he was yesterday, or three years ago, or since the dawn of time. You wish you didn’t notice his strange behavior, you wish he’d go back to being irritating so you could be irritated with him. You wish you weren’t thinking more about Jake than you are about Daniel, your perfect man, and when you finally do meet his soulful eyes you can’t offer him anything more than a weak smile.

“See you later.” You hum, and there’s nothing to go in for- a hug seems sad, and a kiss seems showy. You fall back a few steps instead, bumping into Jake who’d been stationed behind you.

“Let’s go,” He hums, “Elevator’s at the other end.”

You walk in silence, and discomfort roils in your chest the longer Jake says nothing. Nothing, nothing at all, no poking, no prodding, no comments about the candy penises in the bag he’s carrying for you. Just- dead silence, and you’re still not used to Jake taking social cues from you. He’s loud, and he worms his way into every situation, so why is he failing to do so now, when you crave normalcy the most?

You’d almost forgotten that you were swimming before this, but your bikini resurfaces in your mind when someone in the elevator pays attention to it. His eyes glance downwards towards your chest, and the way that they narrow in focus makes your skin crawl. His gaze isn’t warm like Daniel’s or like-.

He’s eerie, long, sharp facial features making him look like the human equivalent to a dagger. His sharpened point needles at you, and you’re already shuffling back on your feet in the elevator when Jake throws an arm over your shoulder, effectively covering your breasts.

Glancing up at him reveals that he’s locked into a staring match with the man who’d been looking down your top, and Hangman always wins staring matches. His skin grows warm against your chest, and you marvel at the way his single arm manages to shield every sensual detail of your torso.

When the man finally looks away, defeated, Jake uses the arm to pull you back into his embrace, and this time, you don’t fight him on the proximity. You feel a rush of affection for him, uncommon but not unheard of, and you remember that deep down, he’s a good guy. He’s got faults, he’s got faults that you’re not sure he could ever mend, but at his core he’s got a heart worth loving.

You don’t have time to thank him, because there’s still people in the elevator when the man disembarks, and Jake gets out only one floor after him.

“You’re going to the top deck?” He asks, having seen you press the topmost button on the panel, and you nod.

“I’ll let you get your fresh air.” He walks backwards out of the elevator, “I’ll stash this in our room and come meet you. Mini golf?”

“I’m down,” You nod without thinking just to agree with him, your throat dry as your skin chills in the absence of Jake’s body heat, “Jake-?”

He stops, brows raised. There’s people around you, waiting for their floors, and you sheepishly give up any hair-brained scheme you’d have planned for having an awkward heart-to-heart with the man who’d just protected you with his body.

“My bag.” You gesture to his arm, your tote still slung over it, “Can I have my bag?”

He grins, wide and pearly white, fumbling with the bags in his arms while keeping his foot in the door to stop the elevator from closing. You take it and he steps away, the doors instantly sliding shut on him. You watch as they close in front of his face, and retreating back into your corner of the elevator seems lonely now that there’s no one accompanying you.

No one says anything- why should they? They don’t know you. But the last thing you need is more silence, and the second the doors slide open on the top deck you’re rushing out onto the slippery flooring, beelining for the railing overlooking the water.

It’s the top deck, so it’s shorter and thinner than the rest below it. But it doesn’t matter- you’re afforded a truly stunning view of the ocean as you drink in lungfuls of sea air.

It’s never this pretty on a carrier ship. Maybe that’s because it’s work, or maybe that’s because of where you work, or maybe that’s because you’re always below deck anyways. This kind of a sunset is something you usually can’t find unless you’re soaring into it through the skies, and here you’re able to relax without being in control of an aircraft.

The clouds act as a Rorschach test. The longer you stare at them the more your mind runs wild, and you seem to find all of your problems in the sky despite having landed to get away from them.

Now you’ve got new ones- one day ago your biggest concern was getting laid. Now- well, you suppose your biggest concern is still getting laid. But now you wonder if you could ever muscle down your nerves enough to fuck Jake, or if you’re going to lay yourself bare for Daniel while thinking about your fellow pilot like you had in your dream last night.

This was meant to be an escape. A thoughtless, lust-driven week-long party that would cure you of your sex block and get you back into the groove.

How’d it all go so sideways?

You don’t hear the footsteps behind you, but you do feel Jake’s hand on your shoulder. His fingers, more like it, because two are perched on your shoulder and three are holding a yellow golf club and a pink ball. He’s got a green and blue pair in his other hand, and you try making your face look like you hadn’t just been searching for answers in the clouds.

“‘You ready for golf?” He asks, his voice far more chipper than yours, “They said they won’t charge us if we shoot one into the ocean.”

“Let’s try not to anyways,” You take the club from him, but swap him the pink ball for the green, “There’s people on the first hole. You wanna go backwards?”

“I’m a pro at mini golf anyways,” Jake scoffs, “Don’t need those practice courses.”

Pro Golfer Jake Seresin loses his ball right away.

It’s important to note that you hadn’t gotten a hole-in-one either, but Jake’s shot is especially horrendous. It veers so off-course that it ends up rolling off of the green altogether, and before either of you can reach it it drops from the deck onto the one below. It doesn’t go as far as the ocean, but it does happen to land right in some unfortunate woman’s drink, and she’s not happy about the bright pink disturbance to her mai tai.

“Sorry!” Jake calls, and you know any apology from him is sincere, or he wouldn’t say it, but she takes less-than-swimmingly to his seemingly casual tone, and she launches the ball with much better aim than he had.

Jake nearly tumbles over the railing as he crumples, groaning in pain at the way the ball had solidly whacked him between the legs. You’re torn between laughing, congratulating the woman, and helping Jake back away from the edge of the deck, so you do some convoluted mixture of all three.

You shoot the woman a dry smile as you tug him away from the railing, and he takes a minute just to breathe as you support his weight. He grimaces, but tries to turn it into one of his signature smirks, though it’s clearly forced as he remains doubled over.

“Hell of an arm on that chick.” He comments, voice heaving with either a laugh or a sob, but probably the latter, “Jesus, darlin’, y’think you could kiss it better for me?”

“I’ll make it worse,” You vow, brandishing the golf club in your fist for extra emphasis, “Sit down before you puke, Hangman.”

He listens, dropping to rest his back against the railing and tilt his head back towards the sky.

It just so happens that you’re skyward to him, and his head rolls so that he can gaze up at your face.

“This is not how I envisioned golfing to go.” He admits, his club laying defeated in the fake grass beside him. “For the record, I was going to tell you that your form was off, and then I was going to come up from behind you and grab your hands and guide you through a swing, all while hoping I could control the big guy downstairs.”

You snort at his admission, but for some reason it doesn’t make you indignant like it might have a day ago. You’re not sure what exactly has changed, just that it’s still changing, and that it would be far easier if it never had.

“How romantic.” You drop a hand onto his head, jostling it side-to-side now that he can’t stop you, “And I suppose this is us staring at the sunset together?”

“Sort of,” Jake shakes his head free of your palm, short-cut hair now wildly out of place.

“It is- funny. How we fly every day but can still stare at the sky.” You note, trying to lose yourself in the watercolor hues of the sky again, “Clouds aren’t any less captivating now than they were when I was 10.”

“It’s different here. We’re relaxing.” Jake hums, “Even if I’m gonna need to ice this later. We’re not doing a timed drill that involves tactical missiles.”

You suppose Jake’s not standing anytime soon so you hit the deck yourself, landing defeatedly beside him and letting your club rest in front of you, “I didn’t come here to relax. Or- I guess I kind of did? In between rounds.”

Jake laughs, and stretches his leg out to rest beside yours, “I came here to fuck. Obviously. But this is nice too.”

You feel a sudden rush of guilt. You’re secure in the fact that you don’t owe Jake anything, even if you’d been assigned as his roommate on this sex cruise. Of course, you hadn’t known he’d be your roommate, or you’d never have signed up, but neither had he. He’d been expecting some woman of his dreams, someone hot, curvy, and ready to open her legs for him, and he’d gotten you. You’re both, in your own ways, disappointments to each other.

“I’m sorry. By the way. That you got stuck with me.” You interrupt the silence after a moment, and only afterwards do you realize that it was a comfortable silence, not one of those tense, awkward things that shatter when broken.

“Stuck with you?” Jake questions, but before he can spit out some half-baked, cheesy line about never being stuck with you, darlin’, you finish your speech.

“You came here to fuck.” You parrot his words, “And I’m not letting you, and I don’t have to let you, but you wanted to. So I’m sorry we’re each other’s roommates. I came here to fuck, too. And it sucks that we know each other, and that things are so complicated, and that we can’t just fuck like rabbits for a week. I’m sorry.”

Jake stays silent for a while, something that rarely happens with him. But it’s sincere, and when he finally speaks, it’s with a sigh and a nudge of his foot against yours.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to let me,” He agrees, “But- I’m enjoying myself even if we’re not fucking like rabbits.”

“You are?” You give him a sideways glance, “Even though we just drained your credit card and you’re unlikely to be able to reproduce?”

“Free vasectomy,” He grins, “And shopping was fun. And swimming was fun, and drinking was fun, and dinner was fun, and- being with you is fun sometimes.”

“You just had to throw the ‘sometimes’ in there, didn’t you Hangman?” This time, when you refer to him with his callsign, it’s not venomous. Instead, it’s almost fond, and you share a quiet laugh in unison as people mill around you, drinking and kissing and playing mini golf.

“I’m glad you’re having fun.” You sober up, “I’m- I think I’m having fun too.”

“I hope so. ‘Gotta get somethin’ out of this cruise, even if it’s not sex.”

“Jake?” You ask, keeping your head forward and ignoring the sense of deja vu that comes over you.

“Hm?”

“Thanks.” You hum, “For- for understanding that I’m not going to- and, for stopping that guy from looking at me earlier, and for buying me stuff at the shops, and- just. Thank you.”

His response is the thunk of his forehead against your shoulder, and he turns his head to watch the sunset with you through the railing at the opposite end of the deck.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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mullermilkshake · 3 days ago

Text

Diary of a Yandere! Dad to be

Part 21 <- Part 22 -> Part 23

I’m not going to write through the entire pregnancy, so I’ll write some head cannons instead :D

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!Reader Tags - Heavily pregnant reader, pregnancy, twin babies, breast play, lactation kink, Breast play, Vaginal fingering, Squirting, Pregnancy sex

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

Just a little thing before the main event and soon we'll know more about the twins 🥰

I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST CLOSED

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo doesn’t settle in completely, he watches the doctor during your other scans and takes note of anything out of the ordinary. Since their talk, nothing appears to be out of place. Good. Still, he can’t afford to be complacent, though Hae-in is better now she’s home with Jong-in and the other hunter he knocked up has moved back with her mother. Jong-in is far too busy with Hae-in to notice you, which is exactly how it should be.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo secretly keeps track of the size of the twins on his phone, counting day by day as your baby bump gets bigger and more pronounced. At twenty four weeks currently, they are the size of an eggplant. They respond to your and Jinwoo’s voices when you talk to each other and even more so when you sing in the kitchen when making dinner.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo can’t help but place his hand on your stomach whenever the babies kick, it’s become second nature to him now, placing his hand there as some sort of comfort. Much to your dismay at first when your belly grows bigger, feeling self conscious, you’ve grown to let him rub your belly as though getting as close to the babies as possible.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo grows more and more attracted to you each day, he encourages you to wear more fitting clothes plus those gorgeous summer dresses. Seeing your baby bump makes his heart swell with joy, you shouldn’t hide it. He wants you to be proud of the two little people you’re growing inside you.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo knows body is adjusting perfectly and just like he predicted, your breasts have started to swell and engorge to the point you cannot wear the bras you once did. These new bras are only there to aid your comfort when Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo isn’t taking them off to push his face in between them. He is a breast man for sure, but something stirs inside him to experience how they react to his touch when full of milk. Curious.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo loves how the pregnancy hormones have made you constantly horny, like pouncing on him whenever you can just to get his fingers inside you. It excites him, hearing you mewl his name in his ear at the wet sounds of Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo fingering you until you squirt all over his hand. All over his lap, you’re straddled over him on the sofa while quite smooth music plays in the background to relax you as per the doctor’s orders.

Plenty of sex, just cautiously. You need Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo more than ever now, as the babies continue to grow and send your body into a slew of challenges. One challenge being the how big the babies are getting. Just to aid in your comfort, Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo sits behind you and holds your belly to keep the pressure off of your back after a day on your feet. He kisses your neck and sucks the skin on top of your spine at your relief. The twins kick about and press their feet against your tummy to get comfy.

Either that, or they're telling Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo to get the hell off so that they can rule the roost before coming into the world and crying the place down with double trouble.

Another challenge is Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo has taken notice of is your constant need to be near him, holding hands and resting your head gently on his shoulder when watching a movie. You have your moments when you reach for his hand to feel the babies move and kick, though still reserved in your decision after the birth. You’re terrified, but Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo aims to change that and has plans put in place to secure the family he’s been dreaming of.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo keeps an updated ultrasound of his babies in his wallet and kisses their picture before every dungeon raid. He also keeps a candid photo of you heavily pregnant as you reach thirty weeks, you have no idea about it which he looks at from time to time when he leaves the apartment. The babies are the size of a large cabbage and makes sucking faces on the 3d scan and reach for each other constantly.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo keeps searching for the right gift to give his children despite knowing it best to wait and see them, but even though they continue to grow strong, nothing seems right when he holds loot up to inspect it after a dungeon.

It has to be perfect, just like you. Only the best for his little family.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo thinks of you all the time. When is the next time he can see you? He beats S-Rank dungeons all by himself to level up, but also to finish as soon as possible just to get back to you. The babies have drained your mana completely, you can’t even see the shadows anymore, being unable to use your abilities and do much of anything causes you to be frustrated. Beru is almost inconsolable that he can’t watch his show with you, but sits on the sofa next to you anyway just to feel involved.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo loves you when you’re sexually frustrated, more so than the hormones just making you horny. You’re on him in a flash as soon as he enters through the front door, pulling his shirt close to kiss him and whispering sweet everythings into his ear. His relationship with you is developing exactly how he likes, you say yes to his little demands and positions he wants to put you in. You’re his. If you weren’t pregnant, you’d let him fuck you in the hallway right beside the front door until he had you begging him to stop out of oversensitivity.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo hides his excitement when you’re riding his cock one day, your breasts more swollen than ever. He massages your breasts and your nipples start to leak and sprayed on his face and lips. You tried to hide your chest with embarrassment, trying to pull yourself off of him mid thrist though when Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo licks his lips and gets a taste of your milk, it awakens something inside him, something that gets his cock harder than ever. He wants to taste you properly.

You pull away again with distrust, still hiding away and fighting against his reassuring grip to let your breasts hang as they do. He tells you that it’s okay, that he loves your swollen breasts just as much as your swollen belly. Your breasts are beautiful, stunning and deserve to sit in Jinwoo’s mouth where they belong.

It’s not long before you allow Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo to push your leaking nipple past his lips, and suck from them to ease the pain of full milk. You’re producing enough for two babies, it’s only logical that he helps you, guides you and supports you in your journey of motherhood. After all, it’s his duty to do anything and everything he can to make you comfortable.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo loves you, he thinks about marrying you all the time. He wants to push the prospect of the wedding forward and do it now instead of after the twins are born if it wasn’t so stressful for you. Soon enough, you’ll have his children in your arms and then, he will take care of all the little details to push the wedding forward.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo hasn’t forgotten about Jong-in, though while he has remained silent and out of the picture for most of your pregnancy now, he has been cleared and encouraged to get yet another Hunter pregnant. As per Chairman Go’s wishes. Jong-in’s expression has fallen lower in recent days despite how much of a mask he puts on for the public.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo keeps anything to do with Jong-in to a minimum and controls the way the conversation goes, it can evolve into a disagreement sometimes when he takes you home, but it nearly always ends in fantastic pregnancy sex.

You heart aches for what Jong-in is going through and the duties that have been forced on him and that drives Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo insane. You shouldn’t be thinking about another man when he’s the man you let fuck you, he’s the man who you let suck your tits dry to make you more comfortable, he’s the man you got you pregnant in the first place. You’re carrying his two children, his babies, you shouldn’t be thinking of Jong-in at all.

So, Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo changes the subject and gets your mind on Hae-in, who too has remained very much out of the way in recent months, silent in her own little bubble and has soon stopped ranting about the association and the facility. You worry for her, there are opportunities to visit her and you take them when you can, though Jinwoo is keeping you busy for your own peace of mind. Your due date is closely tied with Hae-in’s despite the month difference. Twins never carry to full term.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo wants to knock you up all over again just so that this journey never ends. But he respects you too much to put you through more stress than you already are going through.

Yandere! Dad to be!Jinwoo loves you.

He loves you.

Part 21 <- Part 22 -> Part 23

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

Might be a few days before I post again, but I'll try, I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading this far!

Tag list - @bubera974 @snowy-violet @sky2lar @starrynights23x @kamiliora

@yessirr7 @aussie-boys-wife @yihona-san06 @mashiromochi @daiyanomochi

@justatimidcreator @alia-17 @otomegamesforlife @m00n-estelle @towomatos

@stormnightingale @johnnysactualgf @solarisstarrsolomonsbeloved @johnnysactualgf @notleclerc

@minkuro @misakicchi @lovingyeet @soft-dots @gina239

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

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dollyswishingwell · 2 days ago

Note

Hi sorry to bother but could you do a version where they have a baby boy and is competing with the lads guys for mcs attention? I think it would be so cute

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Mama’s prince

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff and adorable rivalry. i love that all of us are thinking on the same wavelength! i feel like i found my people ₍₍⚞(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⚟⁾⁾

> ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ The boys and their mini copies love fighting for mommy’s attention

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The sun pours in through the curved glass walls of your sea-facing villa, casting shimmering reflections across the marble floor. The air smells faintly of ocean breeze, mango, and expensive packaging paper. Again.

You’re standing in the living room in your nightgown, well, trying to, anyway, because in front of you are six white garment bags, four shoe boxes, a stack of velvet boxes, and two clingy boys locked in a silent war of affection.

Rafayel is lounging lazily on the seashell-pink couch, legs crossed, shirt unbuttoned halfway like always. His pink-blue eyes gleam with mischief as he motions to the open boxes.

“All for you,” he says, smug. “Thomas was furious I skipped the shoot, but I think spending the morning buying out Ileana Versé’s new drop was a far better use of my time.”

“You skipped the shoot again?” you ask, peeling back the layers of tissue paper to find a sheer lavender gown embroidered with tiny starfish. “Raffy—”

“You’re missing the point, cutie,” he interrupts, voice sing-songy. “Put that one on. I want to see it. It’ll match the shell earrings from last week.”

Just as you’re about to step behind the screen to try it, a soft little voice pipes up:

“I made sumfing, too!”

You turn.

Your two-year-old son, who looks like a miniature version of Rafayel down to the middle-parted waves and pouty lips, is standing beside the couch with his arms full of paper, ribbon, and crayon-smudged cloth. His cheeks are pink, part shyness, part fury. He marches up to you and thrusts his gift into your hands.

“Dis one’s for you. Not daddy. Only you.”

You crouch down and carefully unfold the chaos bundle. It’s… sort of a dress? A makeshift halter gown cut from gauze, with shell buttons (some glued on sideways), a messy crayon heart scribbled near the neckline, and “MOMEE” written in wobbly baby handwriting.

It’s clearly been stapled together in places. There’s even a belt made of rainbow ribbon.

“I made it by myself,” he adds fiercely. “’Cause I love you more than Daddy.”

Rafayel sits up straighter, a hand over his chest like he’s been personally wounded.

“You traitor,” he gasps dramatically. “I showed you how to mix pearl dust into paint and this is how you thank me?”

“He helped me cut stuff,” the baby mumbles, wobbling over to your side and wrapping his arms around your leg. “But I made it. So Mommy loves me more now.”

You look between them: Rafayel, still shirt half-undone, looking offended but amused, his gaze flicking between you and the toddler with a smug tilt of his head… and your tiny son, clinging to you, glaring daggers at his dad.

You hold up both dresses.

“…Do I try on both?”

“Obviously mine first,” Rafayel says.

“No, mine!” your son shouts, nearly in tears.

You sigh.

Ten minutes later, you emerge from the walk-in closet in your baby’s handmade “dress,” which is already unraveling at the seams. The shell buttons clink together softly as you walk.

“I’m two steps away from being naked” You deadpan.

Rafayel drops his wine glass.

“…Okay, that is criminally cute,” he mutters.

Your son lights up like a sunrise and runs over to spin you around. “You’re my pwincess,” he giggles, arms up for a hug.

You crouch to hold him, and he buries his face in your shoulder like he’s won.

Except—

Rafayel slinks over and kneels beside you both, pressing a kiss to your temple with a whisper:

“My turn next. I’m buying you a crown.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

Your home is quiet, too quiet, considering you live with two Zaynes.

You step into the sunroom, the warmth of the afternoon lighting up the pristine space. The air smells faintly of coffee, books, and lavender floor cleaner, Zayne’s usual routine. On the low table is a teacup waiting for you, your favorite lemon biscuit carefully plated beside it. You already know he placed it there.

But what you weren’t expecting is your baby sitting upright on the sofa, his little legs crossed primly, and a stern expression that mirrors his father’s to perfection.

He holds up a clipboard.

“I’ve reviewed your schedule, Mommy,” he says with an adorable lisp. “You forgot to take your 1:30 rest time. I’m escorting you to the couch.”

“…You’re four.”

“Rules are rules, mommy,” he says gravely.

You chuckle and let him lead you to the couch, where he fussily arranges a pillow behind your back and tucks a blanket over your lap. Then he retrieves a medical toy kit and begins tapping your knee with the fake reflex hammer.

“Vitals: perfect,” he mumbles. “But you should eat more fruit. Daddy says you’re ane-anenic.”

“Anemic, my snowflake”

From behind you, a low voice hums:

“You’ve been reading my reports again.”

Zayne walks in, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled from his shift at the hospital. He sets down his briefcase and pushes his glasses up as he surveys the scene, his son taking your pulse with a toy stethoscope like it’s the most serious operation in the world.

“He’s mimicking you,” you murmur, hiding a laugh behind your hand.

“I noticed,” Zayne replies, sitting beside you. “His penmanship is better than mine.”

Your son scowls slightly and tucks closer to your side, clearly not enjoying the intrusion.

“I was here first, daddy!” he declares.

Zayne raises an eyebrow, gaze flicking to the spot where the boy’s tiny hand is wrapped around yours possessively.

“…Territorial. I wonder where he gets it from.”

“I don’t hog Mommy,” he says, voice clipped and dignified, “I just don’t share.”

Zayne leans in, brushing a kiss to your temple. “I don’t either.”

And just like that, it’s on.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

It starts like any normal afternoon in your oddly serene home, Xavier curled up like a sleepy cat in the middle of the couch, a book half-finished on his chest, the ever-present faint hum of classical music playing from the ceiling speakers. The city below buzzes quietly beneath the glass floor of the sky-high penthouse, but inside, everything feels wrapped in clouds.

You’ve just returned from a quick outing, grocery bags in hand, a breeze in your hair, and not even one foot in the door before a soft thump echoes through the space.

“Mommy!”

The words are as measured as they are high-pitched. Your three-year-old son comes speed-walking out of the hallway, looking exactly like Xavier but smaller, puffier, and with even less regard for normal toddler expressions. Silver hair in a sleepy halo, oversized cream sweater sliding off one shoulder, and those familiar pale blue eyes blinking up at you like you’re the sun.

He clings to your leg with quiet urgency.

“You were gone,” he states simply.

“For twenty minutes, my baby,” you say with a smile, crouching to ruffle his hair.

“That’s eighty-one thousand milliseconds.”

You blink. “…Did your father teach you that?”

“Obviously.”

From the couch, Xavier lifts a hand without looking up.

“She forgot her scarf,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. “Neck exposure is dangerous this season.”

“Snitch,” you whisper as you walk over and flop onto the cushions.

He smiles, just slightly. “I’m your favorite snitch.”

That’s when it begins.

No sooner have you leaned against Xavier than your son wedges himself between you like a determined little wedge of butter.

“Middle spot’s mine.”

“You were gone,” Xavier mumbles, adjusting his arm around both of you with terrifying efficiency. “Territorial rules apply. I had claim.”

The toddler narrows his eyes. “You’re always asleep. You don’t need Mommy.”

Xavier opens one eye. “Incorrect. Her warmth improves my REM cycle.”

You raise your hands in surrender. “You two do know I’m a person and not a contested heating pad, right?”

“We know,” they say in tandem. They do not let go.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

You’re curled up on the velvet chaise in Sylus’s private study, the one with the glass ceiling and one wall covered entirely in ancient weapon displays. Moonlight filters down through the glass, illuminating your silk robe, your tea, and your current situation: no

Two Syluses.

One full-sized and glowering, sitting in his leather armchair like a brooding god.

And one miniature version, three years old, smug as hell, with messy silver hair and glowing red eyes just like his father’s. He’s standing proudly beside you, showing you a paper dagger he made out of blueprint schematics from one of Sylus’s latest prototype vaults.

“Do you love it, Mommy?” he asks sweetly. “I made it for you.”

Sylus’s smile curls like smoke. “Is that one of the blueprints I left in the sealed briefcase?”

“…Maybe,” the boy replies. “But Mommy’s happiness is a higher priority than Daddy’s boring rules.”

You hold up the paper dagger, and pretend not to notice the bomb diagram drawn on the back in crayon.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart.”

Sylus leans forward, elbows on his knees, voice dangerously smooth. “Do you know what this little devil did this morning?”

“I told Mommy already,” the boy cuts in innocently, climbing into your lap and curling into your chest. “You were just being dramatic.”

“He replaced the AI in one of my combat drones with a video loop of himself… giggling. For six hours.”

You blink.

“That’s actually kind of impressive.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” the boy says sweetly, nuzzling your cheek.

Sylus’s eye glows red.

They drag you to bed, it’s cuddle time they say.

You’re lying in bed, reading, when Sylus leans down to kiss your forehead and says, voice low, “Sleep, Kitten. I’ll be back after a quick call.”

But the second the door clicks shut… your son pops up from under the bed with a flashlight and an entire arsenal of plush toys dressed like knights.

“Time for the real bedtime story. I rewrote it.”

He lays next to you, pulling the covers over you both like you’re about to storm a castle. The plush knights are aligned at your side.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful mommy and she was very loved by her tiny general…”

You laugh quietly. “And the dark crow king?”

“Banished to the war room.”

Right on cue, Sylus returns, his brow twitching when he sees the plush knights flanking his side of the bed.

“I was gone for ten minutes.”

“She said I could be king,” the toddler says immediately.

You pause. “…Did I?”

“Probably,” he answers confidently, wrapping his arms around you again.

Sylus glares, but his voice is still amused. “Traitor.”

“Your bloodline is weak, papa.”

“I made you.”

“You made a new enemy.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

The Skyhaven penthouse is a war zone.

Or at least, that’s how it feels when your three-year-old son comes barreling down the hallway in a neon-orange, custom-built hovercraft. His pilot goggles are tilted, his flight jacket is too big, and the expression on his tiny face is pure, righteous determination.

“Passenger Princess Protocol initiated!” he yells, skidding to a dramatic stop in front of you, where you’re seated on the couch.

He slaps the little seat behind his cockpit.

“Mommy. Get in. We’re going to the Moon Garden. I’ll fly slow so your hair doesn’t get messy.”

You smile, already getting up.

“Wow, I get a personal pilot today?”

You don’t even make it a full step before a familiar arm loops around your waist, tugging you gently backwards.

“Negative,” Caleb says smoothly, voice warm and annoyingly smug in your ear. “My passenger princess doesn’t ride second-tier hovercrafts. Sorry, bud.”

Your son’s eyes go wide with outrage.

“I built her that aircraft myself! With wings that flap!”

“My sweet innocent babyboy,” Caleb replies with mock solemnity, leaning down to ruffle his son’s hair, “I built her an orbital glider when we were nine. You’ve got a long way to go, co-pilot.”

Your son stamps his foot. “But I made cupholders! And a snack pod! And—and—seat cushions shaped like hearts!”

You bite back a laugh. Caleb just smirks harder.

“That’s cute,” he says, scooping you up bridal style before you can react. “But I’ve been her official flight partner for twenty years. I’ve got seniority, tenure, and a monopoly on her in-flight kisses.”

“Daddy!” your son wails, little fists clenched. “That’s cheating!”

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” Caleb hums, already strolling down the hallway with you in his arms.

You manage to wiggle free from Caleb’s arms just as your son sniffles behind you, his tiny pilot jacket trembling with the sheer betrayal of it all.

“I just wanted to fly her around the lounge,” he mumbles, wiping his eyes. “She said I was a better pilot last week…”

You kneel and gather him into your arms immediately.

“Baby,” you whisper, “you are. You’re my cushion-certified, snack-approved, heart-seat professional. You’re the coziest flight I’ve ever taken.”

He sniffles harder. “Then why does Daddy always win?”

“Because Daddy cheats,” you say pointedly, loud enough for Caleb to hear.

“Nope, Pipsqueak” Caleb calls lazily from the kitchen, pouring himself coffee. “I just have the deluxe marriage upgrade. Full emotional access. Zero cooldown. Comes with permanent boarding priority.”

“I’ll build Mommy a bigger plane!” your son shouts, eyes blazing with renewed resolve. “With a chocolate fountain and mini pillows and her own nap room!”

Caleb nearly chokes on his coffee.

“She’s not living in your hovercraft, cadet.”

“She might if I add a book room.”

“…Okay, now I’m threatened.”

260 notes · View notes

neptunsx · 2 days ago

Note

can we please get a part two the the bf who cheated but he’s literally yearning for reader because he regrets cheating

WHEN THE TRUTH TEXTS BACK | Y.JW pt2

───genre: angst, nsfw.

───synopsis: jungwon as your boyfriend who cheated on you and now begs for you back.

↬𝓅𝓉𝟣

It’s funny how healing doesn’t feel like healing while you’re in it.

Some days it was rage. Loud, blood-hot, chest-heaving anger that made your fists clench and your eyes sting. Other days it was silence. Nothing. You’d wake up, stare at the ceiling, and feel nothing except the dull reminder that he wasn’t yours anymore and maybe never really was.

You blocked Jungwon a week after that night in the car. Not because you wanted to erase him, but because every notification that wasn’t him felt like another betrayal.

You went through the stages: the screaming into your pillow, the drunk crying in your friend’s car, the deleting every single photo and then later re-downloading some of them just to remind yourself it wasn’t fake. That you weren’t crazy.

But you healed. Painfully. Slowly. You started journaling again. Started dressing for yourself. Not to look good for anyone, but just to look in the mirror and say I like this. Your hair was shinier. Your smile came easier. You felt good.

Today was your friend’s birthday party. She was turning 22. You knew the party was going to be wild and packed because you knew that she is the definition of ‘party animal’.

You weren’t in the mood to party, honestly. But she begged for you to attend, she needed you there. She’d been there for you on the worst nights, holding your hair while you sobbed, forcing you to eat when you forgot how. You owed her at least a couple hours.

You curled your hair, slid on that dress you hadn’t worn yet. The one that made you feel like someone new.

You arrived fashionably late, of course. The rented house was massive. It had glass walls and a backyard pool and a kitchen island bigger than your bedroom. You could already hear the music thumping from the driveway.

Inside, bodies swirled around in a haze of perfume, champagne, and bass. People laughed too loud. Couples whispered in corners. Someone spilled tequila near your heels and apologized in slow motion. You hugged your friend, handed over a bottle of wine you’d picked up on the way, and let her spin you into the crowd. You were meeting new people, chatting, laughing, having fun. You were okay. For the first time in months, you really thought — I’m okay.

After some time, your glass was emptied. You excused yourself to the kitchen for a refill, when you accidentally bumped into someone on the way.

“Oh, I’m sorry I-” you turned to apologise and froze on the spot. Jungwon? What the hell was he doing here?!

It was only a second, but you felt it in your knees. That same electric numbness. The way your breath got stuck halfway between your chest and your throat. You were no longer in your friend’s rented house. You were back in his car. With your heart in your hands and his betrayal cracking through your ribs.

He looked… God, he looked better. His jawline was more cut than you remembered, clean and defined. His hair was blonde now, slightly longer than before, styled in that effortless mess that no one could pull off unless they were born to break hearts. He was wearing a black shirt that hugged his torso, defining his body that got more fit, dark oversized jeans with a Diesel belt. There was silver around his neck, a slim chain that caught the room's light and made your chest squeeze.

But the real difference was in his eyes. They weren’t cocky. They weren’t teasing or smug or full of themselves like they used to be when he knew how much you loved him. They were tired. Dull. Like something had been bleeding out of him for weeks and he only just realized he was hollow.

“...Wow.” he said, voice soft, stunned. “You’re here.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You sound surprised.”

“I… yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Not really up to you, is it?”

He gave a small laugh, not out of humor, but nerves. You could tell he didn’t know what to say. He looked you over, tried to keep it subtle, but you caught the flicker of shock in his face.

“You look...” He trailed off. “You look amazing.”

You took a sip of your drink. “Glow-ups happen when your boyfriend cheats on you.”

His jaw tensed. “I deserved that.”

The air between you went thick and heavy. Music pulsed from the other room, but you barely heard it. “I-” He stopped, eyes darting to your hand, then back to your face. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I just wanted to talk. Not to make excuses. I just… I thought maybe…”

“I blocked you.” Your voice was calm. Too calm. “On purpose.”

He swallowed. “Yeah, I know but…i missed you.”

The words hit you like a slap in the dark. Soft, but unexpected. Too intimate. You laughed. Cold, sharp. “Is that supposed to mean something now?”

“It means I think about you. Every day. I fucked everything up. And I know it’s too late but—”

“Save it Jungwon. Not interested in hearing more excuses.” and you left.

“Y/N…” you heard him softly call your name desperately. But your body already turned itself and started walking away from him. ‘He must be out of his fucking mind’, you thought. ‘All of the sudden he regrets everything? Didnt work with Minseo and now he’s out of bitches?’

You rush towards your friend that was laughing with a random guy. You grab her shoulder and turn her to face you. “Why is he here?!”

“Huh? Who?”

“You know damn right who!”

“Oh…yeah. I mean, i invited his friends, it was only fair he was coming too, plus we used to hang out all together when you guys were dating.”

“Why didnt you tell me?! Thats fucked up F/N!”

“Hey, calm down. I’m sorry. I thought this would be a chance for you guys to talk things out.” she said unbothered.

“Talk WHAT out?! He CHEATED on me!”

“I-” you didnt let her finish as you scoffed and walked away pissed off. Why tf did she invite HIM? After what he did to you. She should’ve been hating his guts, like you do.

The night wore on after your argument with your friend. You stood in the middle of the living room with your jaw clenched and eyes burning. The music pounded through your skull like a heartbeat you couldn’t regulate. Laughter erupted from the backyard. Someone handed you another drink, and you downed it without tasting it. You didn’t care anymore.

You wandered through the house, each room filled with people, noise and memories you didn’t want. You needed air, space, silence. You ended up in the upstairs hallway, hands running over the polished banister, the floor just slightly tilting under your feet. Liquor and rage a dizzying cocktail in your veins.

You opened a random door and stepped inside a guest room. It was quiet, dimly lit, neatly made bed and a large window looking out into the backyard lights. You sat down on the edge of the mattress and let out a shaky breath. For the first time in weeks, your hands trembled. You were fine, weren’t you? He was gone. You had healed. You had smiled again. So why did seeing him unravel everything?

You heard a soft knock before the door opened. “Y/N?”

You turned slowly, heart crawling up your throat. He stood there. Jungwon. As if your thoughts had summoned him. His silhouette cut through the room’s soft light, and his expression…God, his expression. Like a man on the edge of begging.

“I-I didn’t mean to intrude.” he stammered. “I saw you walk up here. I just… I needed to talk to you. Please.”

You didn’t move. “You already said what you needed to say.”

“I didn’t.” he said quickly, stepping in, shutting the door gently behind him. “Not everything. Not even close.”

You stood, arms crossed, but unsteady. “I don’t want to argue with you again, Jungwon.”

He looked at you, and in that second, his whole body seemed to sag. His chest rose and fell in sharp breaths. “I hate what I did to you. I hate myself for it every day. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I replay that night in the car over and over until I want to scream. You crying. Me saying nothing. Letting you walk away when I should’ve been on my knees.”

You scoffed, but your throat clenched.

“It wasn’t just a mistake. I betrayed someone who loved me. God, Y/N, you loved me so purely and I took it for granted. And now all I do is live in the shadow of what I lost. I can’t move on. No one feels like you. No one even sounds like you when they laugh. I see you everywhere. I hear you everywhere.” his voice broke on that last line.

You felt like the breath had been punched out of you. “Then why didn’t you fight for me?” you whispered.

He stepped forward, eyes glassy. “Because I was a coward. And I thought you deserved better than a coward. But now…now I just want a chance to earn you again. Even if it takes years. Even if it’s hopeless. I’ll take hopeless over silence.”

Tears prickled at your lashes. The room spun. Not from alcohol, but from the emotion washing over you in waves too fast to process. Pain and anger. And underneath it all, that same terrifying truth:

You still loved him.

Your voice cracked. “You broke me.”

He was barely breathing. “I know. And I’ll never forgive myself for it. But I’d give anything—anything—just to hold you again. Even if it’s for one night. Even if you never speak to me again after.”

The alcohol burned in your blood. The weight of his voice, his trembling hands, the way he looked like he was about to cry, it all pressed against the dam you had spent months building.

And you let go. You stepped forward. One step. Then another.

His hands rose hesitantly, hovering uncertainly between you like he was afraid of shattering the fragile space between you. His fingers twitched, craving contact but unsure if he had the right. His eyes searched yours, desperate and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your own hand trembling as you reached out, fingertips brushing lightly against his cheek. The skin was warm beneath your touch, and a shiver ran through you.

His breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, as if your touch was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. “I never stopped wanting you.”

“Then why did you choose her over us? Why did you do this to me? Why did you leave?”

He shook his head, voice raw. “I’m an asshole. I thought that by leaving I was protecting you from me, from my mistakes, my weaknesses. But all I did was break you. And I’ve lived with that every damn day. I thought you’d never give me a second chance. And maybe you shouldn’t.”

Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill. “But I’m begging you… not as your boyfriend, not as the guy who hurt you, but as the man who still loves you. Please. Just one chance. One night. One moment to prove I can be better. Fuck Minseo and any Minseo. I dont fucking know why i did tha- fuck” he sobs and covers his face with his hands.

The weight of his words, the vulnerability bleeding from him, crashed through your carefully built walls. You felt the years of hurt, anger, and love collide inside you and it was overwhelming. Your breath hitched. Your fingers trembled as you reached up and cupped his face. The tears on his cheeks were warm against your palms.

Without thinking, without hesitation, your lips met his. He gasped into your mouth like he had been waiting to breathe you in for months. Like your kiss was the only thing keeping him alive. His hands, shaking, settled at your waist, gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

You deepened the kiss, tilting your head, biting down on his bottom lip with just enough force to make him groan. He tasted like cheap champagne and heartbreak, and yet nothing had ever felt more familiar. More right.

His hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer. “God, I missed you…” he murmured against your lips, voice raw and broken. “I missed your voice, your laugh, your scent—fuck, I missed you so much.”

Your hands found their way under the hem of his shirt, exploring the warm, taut skin beneath. He flinched, not from discomfort, but from the sensation. His stomach flexed under your touch like he hadn’t been touched in years.

“Do you even know what you did to me?” you whispered against his jaw, trailing kisses along the stubble lining it. “How many nights I cried myself to sleep? How long it took me to look in the mirror and not see the girl you left behind?”

“I do.” he breathed. “I know. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your hands moved to unbutton his shirt, the fabric parting to reveal his chest. He looked stronger now. More defined. But there was still a fragility in the way his eyes flickered, like he didn’t believe this was real.

“I don’t want your sorry.” you said, pushing the shirt from his shoulders. “I want you to mean this. I want to know I’m not another moment of weakness to you.”

“You never were.” he choked. “You were everything. I was too stupid to see it then. But I see it now. I see you, and I don’t want to ever stop.”

Your dress slipped off your shoulders easily, pooling at your feet. You stood before him in your lingerie, and for a second, he just stared, completely wrecked. His lips parted, eyes wide, like the breath had been stolen from his lungs.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” he said, voice shaking. “You always have been.”

He stepped forward and kissed your collarbone, slow and reverent, like he was worshipping every inch of you. His lips traced your skin with quiet apologies, murmured between kisses.

“I was scared.” he whispered. “Of how much I loved you. Of ruining it. Of being unworthy.”

“You were unworthy.” you said, but your fingers curled around his jaw gently. “But for tonight i want to forget that.”

His hands cupped your thighs and he lifted you effortlessly, setting you down onto the bed with a soft thud. He hovered over you, lips ghosting above yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, breathless, trembling.

You nodded. “I don’t want to think. I just want to feel.”

With that, his mouth was on yours again. Slower this time. His kisses felt like apologies he didn’t know how to say out loud. His hands explored your body trying to memorize every curve, every breath, every sound you made.

“You’re shaking.” he whispered as he kissed down your stomach.

“So are you.” you replied, breath hitching as his tongue traced a slow, burning path.

The room was silent except for the rustle of sheets, the hum of the party muffled behind the closed door, and the unsteady rhythm of two hearts rediscovering each other. He started unbuckling his belt and jeans, throwing them aside. You gazed up at him, your heart pounding in your chest as his fingers traced the delicate lace of your bra. The heat of his touch seared your skin, igniting a fire deep within you that you thought had long been extinguished. Your breath hitched as his hand slid around to unhook the clasp, freeing your breasts from their confines.

"God, Y/N..." Jungwon breathed, his voice rough with desire as he took in the sight of you, laid bare before him. "You're even more beautiful than I remembered." His thumbs brushed over your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks as he lowered his head to capture one in his mouth.

A moan escaped your lips at the sudden sensation, your back arching off the bed as Jungwon's tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. His hand slid down your stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties to tease the slick heat he found there.

"I've thought about this every night." he murmured against your skin, his fingers stroking through your folds, teasing your clit with maddening precision. "Lying in bed, touching myself, wishing it was you. Wishing I could feel your tight pussy gripping my cock again."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your core clenching around nothing, aching to be filled by him. You reached down, pulling down his boxers, desperate to free his hard length. Jungwon groaned as your fingers wrapped around him, stroking his thick shaft, feeling it throb in your hand.

“Hurry, someone might walk in and see us.” you whisper eagerly.

“Let them.” he said as he removed your panties too, throwing them on the floor. He settled himself between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. With a swift thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside you. You gasped as his length filled you completely, stretching your walls deliciously around his hard shaft. Your fingers dug into his back, nails raking down the firm muscles as he began to move within you. Each powerful thrust sent sparks of pleasure radiating through your body, rebuilding the connection you thought had been shattered.

"Oh god, Jungwon." you whimpered, your hips rolling to meet his in a desperate dance of passion and longing. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers as he drove into you with increasing fervor. One hand slid between your bodies to rub at your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation had your mind spinning, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second.

“Oh, I’m taking my time with you.” he promised breathlessly against your lips, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. You could feel your climax building, your walls starting to flutter around his pistoning length. Jungwon must have sensed it too, because he redoubled his efforts, pounding into you with a newfound urgency.

“F-fuck im cumming.” you whined, feeling extremely close to finishing. Something you’ve been craving for so long, only for him to pull out.

“Wha- why did you do that? I was about t-” you shut up by his arms suddenly grabbing you and pulling you on top of him, you were now straddling him.

“Use me.” he whispered.

“What?”

“Take out all the pain and anger i caused you on me. Make yourself feel good on me. Please.”

Emboldened by his submission, you began to move, rising up until just the tip of his cock remained inside you. Then, with a smirk, you slammed back down, taking him to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Jungwon let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your thighs as you started to ride him hard and fast.

You set a punishing pace, your hips slamming against his with force. Each downward thrust was a release of the anger and hurt you harbored for so long. You poured every ounce of it into your movements, using Jungwon's body as a vessel for your retribution.

You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you changed the angle of your thrusts. Each roll of your hips now stimulated your clit against his pelvis, pushing you closer to the edge of another climax.

"That's it." you growled, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Feel how wet you've made me? How much I needed this?"

Jungwon could only nod, his mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy as he felt your walls starting to flutter around his renewed hardness. "Yes. Fuck i love you.” he whispered, voice cracked and uncertain, as if the words still tasted forbidden in his mouth. You didn’t answer. You just kissed him deeper, because you weren’t ready to say it. Not yet. But in that moment, you didn’t need to.

He started bucking his hips up, hitting your spot deeper. "Fuck, Jungwon." you whimpered, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you felt your climax fast approaching. "I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum all over your cock."

"Please, Y/N." he begged. "Cum for me. Use me. Mark me. Claim me as yours again."

With a final bounce, you slammed down onto him, your walls clamping down around his length like a silken vise as your orgasm crashed through you. You screamed his name, your voice echoing off the walls as wave after wave of pure, unadulterated bliss consumed you.

"Yes, fuck yes!" Jungwon roared, his hips jerking erratically as he felt your release drenching his cock. "That's it, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible." He slammed up into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his own climax overtook him.

You let out a shaky breath as you slowly lifted yourself off of him, your body trembling from the aftershocks of everything you had just given and taken. A soft, messy trail of your shared release spilled from you, glistening in the low light.

Jungwon let out a sharp hiss, his eyes fluttering as he watched. He looked up at you then, his gaze full of lust, regret, love. That dangerous kind of love that makes you forget every reason why you walked away in the first place.

“One more round.” he whispered hoarsely, his voice like gravel, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder and neck.

You gently pushed him back with a hand to his chest. “No.” you said, your voice low but firm. “We can’t. We need to go back outside… Our friends might be wondering where we are.”

You stood up slowly, legs still unsteady, and began collecting your scattered clothes. As you bent to retrieve your dress, reality came crashing down like a cold wave. “God.” you whispered. “What did i just do?”

He rose from the bed, reaching for his pants but pausing when he saw your face. “Hey…” he murmured, stepping toward you. His hands cupped your cheeks gently, his thumbs brushing along your skin with reverence. “Are you… regretting this?”

You hesitated, heart pounding, breath shaky. “I—” you exhaled heavily. “No. I don’t regret it. It felt… right. But it’s wrong, Jungwon. We both know that.”

He looked stricken. His brows furrowed, his eyes wide, desperate. “Y/N… I’ve changed. I swear to you, I’m not that same asshole who didn’t know how to appreciate things. Look at me.” he whispered, leaning closer. “Let me prove it. Let me show you every single day that I can be the man you deserved from the start. Let me love you the way I should’ve. The way I never stopped.”

You looked up at him, your chest aching. His voice cracked with conviction, with fear. And for a second, you let yourself believe that maybe he really had changed. That maybe people do grow. That maybe love, even when broken, can be rebuilt. But not tonight.

“I need time.” you said quietly. “Okay? I just… I need to think. Process. This isn’t something I can pretend didn’t happen. I have your number, I’ll text you. I promise.”

His face fell slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might cry again. “Please don’t look at me like that.” he said, his voice barely a whisper, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was warm, grounding, his hands softly rubbing circles into your waist like he was trying to calm both of you down.

“I’m okay.” you murmured into his chest. “Really. I just… need time.” you pulled back slowly and gave him a small, fragile smile. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. I’ll wait. However long it takes.”

You finished dressing in silence, both of you moving slowly, like the weight of what had happened anchored your limbs. When you were ready, you walked to the door together, pausing just before it opened.

Your eyes met his one last time. A single nod passed between you. Not goodbye. Not yet. Just later. Maybe. Then, with your heart still trembling in your chest, you opened the door and stepped back into the world.

[DISCLAIMER: Don't go back to exes. Things ended for a reason. I'm watching you. Put your self-respect first. Let that rat go.]

#enhypen #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x oc #enhypen jungwon #jungwon #jungwon smut

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zenyyyluvyuu · 3 days ago

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Depth of the ocean {3}

Chapter: (1) (2) (3) (4)

[Yandere romantic jason todd x mermaid reader + platonic yandere batfam]

Tw/cw: kidnapping, violence

Author note: now I have considered that the reader will eat fish, the food chain. The bigger fish eat smaller fish. This chapter is prob short, sorry 😞

Morning was like usual, you wake up, greet your pet and eat breakfast. It was a peaceful morning.

You go out of your little cave, continuing your habit collecting some pretty sea shells. Your mind wanders to that man. Jason. You really want to tell him your name but you can't make out the words correctly, it's gibberish. You only know your own kind language.

You remember when you were a kid, your mom didn't let you roam to the shore. She says humans sometimes were evil. But you with your naive mind, couldn't listen to that.

You eventually roam to the shore, silently. Your focus was on the humans that walk, chilling and any activity they do. You were fascinated.

You want to be friends with them but you can't. You still remember that one of your relatives is friends with some not so kind human.

He disappeared after being friends with them. Your mother said he may get eaten by the humans, she says some humans still believe that a merfolk meat will give them immortality but in reality your kind was just a flesh like other fish, nothing special.

With that you hesitate, you're afraid they might take you away.

You shake your head. You take the last piece of the sea shells, and come back to your home to make another piece of jewelry.

_______

Now jason.

Was smiling all the time, observing at the sea shells necklace you made just for him. He holds the sea shells.

Feeling the hard shells in his hand. Admiring it.

"he's been looking at that necklace for 2 hours" Stephanie whispered out loud to the duke.

"hmm maybe he's just in love?" Duke replied with a low voice.

"yeah the mermaid made his heart melt, i can see it" tim also replied out loud.

The peace of him admiring the necklace was shattered. Annoyed. He snapped his head to the people that have been calling him without even lowering their voice.

"can you mind your own business? I'm just admiring her hardwork"

"yeah, for two hours jason. Two hours." Stephanie says with an annoyed look.

"that's not even that bad, you're just jealous she gave me a necklace." He turns his head to the necklace.

"your obsessed"

"shut up"

With that Stephanie and duke snicker. Tim is just there, looking at his laptop.

_______

Uhhm

Okay you didn't know how you manage to get stuck in a net. In an abandoned dock, alone. You tried to bite it but it was no use. The net is thick.

You struggled all you can the net still didn't budge.

All you wanna do is just explore.

It starts with you having an idea while making some jewelry sea shells. You saw an abandoned dock while hunting for sea shells.

So You decide to explore the dock, you're just curious about it.

So when you arrive at the dock. It's full of abandoned stuff, and then you see a net. Curious about it, you start to touch and eventually you play it.

The net is thick and you can bring it to your home for you to decorate it in your cave.

The next thing you knew is stuck. Yeah you're stuck in the net. you tried to get out of the net, but is really stuck on your tails.

"oh who do we have here?.."

You flinch at the sounds, there's a people here? You frantically tried to get out of the net. But your really stuck.

Then a shadow loomed on your frame. Your breath hitches, you slowly look up.

Another people, but they don't look friendly like jason. Some of them look scary. You stare at them, already terrified. Vulnerable.

Another people, a group of a bunch of petty criminals. Looking at you like you were a treasure.

"dude i thought mermaids were just fairy tales.."

"Well it is not, after you see the real one.."

"look at those shiny tails"

"boss is gonna like it"

One of them tried to touch you but you managed to scratch him. "Ahg! Oy! Help me tie this bitch, not just stare at" the man one with a beard yell at his friends.

They then help the man to tie you, you scream, kicking with your tail, scratch and even bite. But you cannot fight alone with more than one man.

Eventually you were bound with the tie, you still struggle but one of them manages to hit you on the head and blood trickle from your temple. They throw you in the van, you feel so dizzy.

You lift your head to look at them one last time. You saw their face. Those mocking faces.

"goodnight fishy" they close the door of the van.

That's the last thing you knew before you went unconscious. Your head was throbbing.

_________________________________________________

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @amber-content @a-brilliante-mariposa @treeteaofversailles @auxo47 @thenightwingnerd @luv-isolde

Hiya everyone, sorry for taking too long to update the chapter, i hope you still like this fic🔅🔅🔅

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bluehourbucky · 20 hours ago

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Lunch boxes

pairing: newavenger!bucky x reader

summary: you make lunch for new avengers John almost loses his life

a/n : just a silly drabble been thinking about it for days

bucky masterlist

Bucky never knew softness until he met you. You are the epitome of softness, you think of others first and then yourself. He loves that about you its sweet but he never let's it go too far.

He knows one day he'll marry you, buy you a house in the country side all those domestic things he dreamed of. He just needs a bit more time. Bucky sees the way you look at him, with love and absolute certainty that he's your future.

There's nothing he wouldn't do for you, not when he meets your doe eyes full of hopes and dreams. And he can't wait to make them all reality.

One thing about you is that you show your love through food, lots of it, he gained a few since you two started dating. Bucky didn't even know he loved food this much ( maybe he doesn't and its only to please you but the line blurred long ago when he realised that love is you and everything you do and make).

He never intended for you to meet the other new avengers, but they somehow found their way into your shared home. You welcomed them with open arms and heart. And you charmed them from the fist second. He knew you would, all you have to do is smile and you have people falling over left and right.

They weren't used to kindness and you had so much to give and you gave it freely in abundance.

Last night was rough for them and they all needed somewhere to recharge for the hard day ahead, so what did they do? They came to a little sanctuary, that is yours and Buckys apartment.

Even if Bucky hadn't called ahead you had opened the door in the middle of the night, you didn't even seem upset that they woke you up or that he brought five more people with him.

You jumped into his arms like it didn't matter that he was all dirty and sweaty and bloody, and to you it didn't.

Your small apartment was looking even tinier with the six avengers in the living room/kitchen.

"Welcome back! I'm sorry I didnt know you were coming you must be hungry! Ah I didnt prepare anything! I'm sure we have something around here!"

Bucky told you not to fuss about it, they'll order something for tonight and be out early in the morning. It took a lot of convincing and stolen distraction kisses to make you drop it.

"Jamie it's not nice! They're guests, your work family!" He smiles and pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead.

"You can cook some other time come on back to bed." Bucky ushered you to your room and laughed when he noticed your frown. He took a quick shower and then gave the rest of them towels and told them to figure it out how to sleep on one pull out bed. He didn't care enough he just wanted his girl.

"Good night, doll." Bucky says as he pulls you into his chest and kisses your neck. He feels you smile.

"Night Jamie."

In the morning Bucky can smell food? Its all kinds of food. He gets up and opens the bedroom door. Four figures stand behind the kitchen counter and watch you.

John is sitting on the pull out sofa, his eyes closed.

"Damn Soldier Barnes! Your wife is so talented! Look how she cooks!" Alexei says pointing at you stiring the pot and shaking the pan at the same time. You turn and your cheeks are flushed, both from the stove and the way Alexei called you Buckys wife.

"Morning love!" you look at him sheepishly, like you're caught doing a crime.

"She won't tell us what she's doing but this looks dangerous? No?" Yelena says..

"I'll be done soon I promise."

Bucky fondly laughs and walks over to you to give you a morning kiss but before he can do that an alarm sounds from your phone.

"Ah get that out of the oven! Thanks honey."

Bucky does as he's told and pulls out a huge tray of pastries out of the oven with his metal arm.

"Are we feeding an army?"

"Yes Bucky look how many of you and no one should work on an empty stomach."

Before he can say something you shush him and peck his lips.

"Okay now everything's done!"

And there on the counter six paper bags, each one has a name written on it, with a little doodle each different than the other.

Buckys heart grows and aches in ways he can't quite understand. You did all of this for him, for them, the people who have done horrible things, are doing horrible things.

First one to grab a bag is Alexei who then gives you a bear hug and lifts you off of the floor.

"Ah you are amazing woman! If Soldier doesn't treat you right he will have problem with me! I am very grateful!" You laugh and hug him back.

Ava just nodds and takes the bag, but in her eyes you see softness and thankfulness.

Yelena takes hers and says "Ah my favorite! Thank you! You are the best! I can't promise I won't come back for another round."

"You're always welcome" you reply and give her a hug.

"Thank you, miss. I appreciate your effort it is very kind for you to give us this food!" Bob says and stands at the door with the others.

John's the last one but he only stands up and goes to the door.

"Wait I made you one too!"

"Im not taking a children's lunch box I'll just buy something out."

The silence that came is deafening, you could hear a pin drop. Your eyes well up in tears.

And then Bucky grabs John by the throat, Yelena pulls her guns and points them at John, Ava teleports next to John and hits him and Alexi says

"I kill him now."

"Im sorry I'm sorry Im sorry I swear I didnt mean it." John starts to beg the avengers for mercy...

"Not to us stupid."

Bucky drops him to the ground and then John crawls to your feet and starts begging.

"Its fine I forgive you." you say kind of terrified and touched that they all care so much.

"You live another day, next time you make my girl cry I will kill you and then cut you into pieces and then I will burn those pieces."

John only nods and runs out the door.

Buckys eyes immediately soften as he walks over to you and grabs the last bag, it says love of my life and there's like a dozen hearts drawn. His hear melts.

"Thank you baby. I love you and I already miss you." you giggle at the hundreds of kisses Bucky gives you.

"Love you too!"

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic #bucky fic #marvel imagine #bucky fluff #james buchanan barnes

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softjeekies · 1 day ago

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Waiting After The Rain

↳ chapter 2

previous chapter // next chapter(soon)

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: vomit scene, a/b/o, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory

A/N: thank you for all the love on the first chapter, my heart is full!! a few people asked me about a tag list and i’m still not sure if i’d like to do one, but if i do you i will let you know!! please enjoy this chapter and my ask box is open if you have questions about this world or just wanna chat!!

The light coming through the window causes you to stir, a groan leaves your lips before your body freezes at the feeling of soft arms wrapped around your body. Cautiously you let your eyes open only to be met with a chest, it’s Felix’s chest. Fear jolts through your body, Will Felix be mad that you touched him? Will his alphas be mad? You need to fix this and before you can decide how to do that, your body chooses flight, causing you to jump out of the bed and take a few steps back until your back hits a wall. Felix sits up in the bed, his anxious scent melts with your own before he has a chance to see where you went, and his scent calms back to the sweet lemon tart smell you remember from last night.

“Hey, hey it’s okay baby! What happened sweetheart? Come back to bed, yeah?” Felix pulled up the covers and patted the bed so you could join him again. You obey, not lying down but sitting a respectful distance from Felix not wanting to cause any more issues for him.

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me. I don't know what happened while I was asleep; I haven’t cuddled with anyone since I was a child. If Chan gets mad at you because of this you can tell him it was me. I don't want you to get in trouble because I’m a hormonal idiot.” You rapid-fire words at Felix, not making much sense to the omega but he makes out the bits and pieces.

“Why would Chan get mad at me? If anything he’ll be jealous I got to cuddle you first!” Felix laughed gently, moving himself to sit up and closer to you taking one of your hands in his own, subconsciously trying to get you used to skinship.

“I’m not a pack mate, we shouldn’t be cuddling, my scent, it shouldn’t be on you.”

“Oh please, you’ll be a pack mate soon if I have anything to say about it, that is if you want to, we won’t force you to join us but I want you to know I do want you here. Your scent is delicious.” He gives you a gentle smile causing the tips of your ears to redden, he can’t say things like that to you, no matter how nice it feels, it isn’t right.

“And what’s this about hormones? Did cuddling make you feel better? We can do it more often if it helps ease your discomfort.” There’s a curious tilt to his head, and he genuinely wants to learn how to help you.

“Oh! Well, pregnancy makes you crave alpha scent, the alpha who helped conceive the pup’s scent is best but any alpha’s scent can work, and in a pinch, any proper scenting can help ease things even a little bit. It’s probably why I haven’t had to throw up yet, your scent calmed my sickness.” Felix’s eyes widen at your confession, Oh he had so much to learn, and he’s determined to learn it all.

“That’s not a problem at all, we can get you set up with some nesting materials from the pack to help you before you feel comfortable enough to get scented by the others okay?” Felix’s words cause your head to snap up into a confused tilt, looking at him like he had two heads. You hadn’t nested in so long, and you hadn’t properly nested ever. You were allowed to nest at night when you were a teenager living with your parents, freshly presented, still a little bit of hope left in your eyes. But the nest always had to be cleaned up in the morning, they didn’t want you living in filth as they put it, and once you got sent to live with your alpha he didn’t like the nest, saying it was always too hot for all that shit, and good omegas don’t need a nest, all they need is their alpha.

“A nest? I can’t do that.” Now it’s Felix’s turn to be confused, somehow his eyes widened more thinking this can’t possibly mean what he thinks it means.

“You can’t? You don’t know how? You aren’t allowed? Because I can assure you that you are absolutely allowed to nest sweetie, omegas need to nest, this is at the core of our biology.”

“I’ve made nests before, but I never kept them intact for long. Since getting pregnant I’ve had stronger cravings to nest but I haven’t nested in many years, I wouldn’t be very good at it.” Before you can place your head down in embarrassment again Felix lifts your head so you two can make eye contact, placing a gentle hand to your face to move a stray hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing here okay? We will take care of you, you will have the most beautiful nest and everything will be okay. Now if it’s okay would you like to go downstairs and eat breakfast? Minho hyung makes the most delicious food you’re gonna love it! I’m sure the rest of the pack will be down there eating, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I can bring the food up here too, just say the word.” You take a moment to sit with your thoughts, you remember how Chan said everyone would welcome you but what if it’s just a trick? What if nobody wants you here? What if they hate your smell? Felix sensing your unease cuts off your rapid thoughts.

“How about this, we go down to eat, and while we eat the pack will introduce themselves so you aren’t the main focus? You can even sit by the door so if it becomes too much we can leave. You say the word and we can come back up here!” Subconsciously Felix releases a calming scent that helps you agree to his offer.

Felix leads you downstairs, your hands intertwined keeping you at ease, but god you are still so on edge. The way silence fell upon the dining room once you entered didn’t help at all, it’s as if the world stopped, and it’s all because of you. A whine settles in your throat causing Felix to squeeze your hand to ground you before he leads you to the seat closest to the door. The silence is so loud. The first person to move is an alpha, he stands to make you and Felix plates of food causing you to look around confused why Felix or the other omega wasn’t making the plates.

“Is there anything here you don’t eat? Anything you want extra of? Do you want something different? I can make something different.” The alpha speaks to you causing you to flinch, he reeks of nervousness but you can’t stop yourself from thinking it’s just a facade.

“Minho hyung, maybe introduce yourself first!” Felix nudges the alpha’s side with an awkward laugh.

“Oh! Hello, I’m Minho. I made the food. So what did you want to eat?” For a moment you make eye contact with Minho and you immediately break it and look down at your lap.

“I will eat whatever you give me” You keep your head down trying to make yourself as small as possible before a plate gets placed in front of you. You dig in immediately partially out of hunger and partially to not upset anyone.

As you eat one by one the pack members introduce themselves, just like Felix promised. They don’t push you further and you appreciate that. The pack talks while you make your way through the plate, the rice is devoured, the veggies are all gone, and all that remains is the healthy scoop of steamed egg. You knew you fucked up, you had always hated egg, and now the pregnancy has exasperated that hatred. A voice in your head berates you, this pack took you in, this alpha graciously made you food when you don’t even deserve the time of day, you have to eat the eggs. So you take a bite praying to the moon goddess herself that just this once the baby would let you stomach these eggs, but the moon goddess isn’t always forgiving. As soon as the eggs hit the back of your throat you gag, causing the room to fall silent, This causes you to panic, the panic causing more gagging, oh god. In a fight with your gag reflex you are determined to win you finally swallow the egg, this was your worst mistake. Immediately your mouth welcomes the familiar watering feeling that comes before a vomit session, fuck. As if Felix can sense the undigested food rising in your throat he grabs your hand, still somehow doing it in the most gentle way possible, leading you to a bathroom where you fall to your knees and let go of everything left in your stomach into the toilet.

You’re dry heaving when you’re finally able to take in your surroundings, Felix is on the floor rubbing your back, releasing his sweet scent into the air, which almost covers the smell of your vomit.

It won’t stop, there’s nothing left in your stomach and you can’t stop gagging over the toilet as if magically new food to throw up would appear.

“I’m- ugh sorry.” You speak between gags and Felix gives you an apologetic look.

“It’s okay, just focus on trying to stop gagging okay? Look I know it’s not ideal but do you want me to get an alpha to scent you? You said it helps with morning sickness. Maybe it can help here, I just don't think my scent is helping much, sadly.” You can’t bother an alpha like that, especially one you don’t know, especially one that has already done too much for you. Your thoughts are interrupted by Felix getting up to leave, you panic thinking maybe he’s sick of dealing with you already but before you can even finish that thought he’s back, with a hoodie. He places the hoodie close to your nose and immediately the retching stops, your mind fuzzes and all you can think about is the ocean scent invading your nostrils.

“This is Chan hyung’s! It seems it helped, yeah?” Felix smiles and you can't help but smile back grateful for his help.

“What made you vomit like that?” You grimace at the thought of having to admit your fault.

“I can’t stand eggs, but I didn’t want to offend anyone.” You frown thoroughly embarrassed by your actions and this whole situation in general.

“Sweetie, sweetie no. You don’t have to eat anything you don’t want to. Nobody will be mad at you if you don’t like something, Minho hyung has made whole separate meals for each of us before, it happens. Nobody goes hungry here, and nobody eats anything they don’t like. See now your stomach is empty and we can’t have that, can we? No, good thing Minho hyung is making you a soup right now so you don’t upset your stomach further by trying to eat all that food again.” Felix gently holds your face in his hands rubbing a thumb over your cheeks and you burst into tears, stupid hormones.

“Oh no! Did I say something wrong? Do you not like soup? We can find something else.” Felix’s scent sours with panic making you scrunch your nose at the smell.

“No, I’m just so frustrated with myself, I’m being such a burden to you guys. Minho shouldn’t have to make me soup, he’s not even my alpha.” You speak between sobs and Felix gives you a pout before helping you off the bathroom floor.

“Minho hyung is doing it because he wants to, he wants to take care of you and the pup, we all do, I promise.”

Your sobs turn to sniffles while Felix leads you to the kitchen island and helps you into one of the chairs. Across from you Minho turns around and places a bowl in front of you, As you go to eat you realize you’re still holding Chan’s hoodie. In haste, you try and hand it off to Felix but he rejects it.

“Hold it while you eat, just in case the soups set you off again.” He gives you a big smile encouraging you to eat the soup, so of course you do.

“I don’t know what you eat so I stuck to a broth with the vegetables from breakfast in it, I promise you I can make better soup than that, and I will make it for you one day, promise.” Minho gives you a look you can’t quite read, It’s soft, his scent has softened as well, his cinnamon scent dulling out and sweetening up, leaving the scent of something akin to a spice cake.

“It tastes delicious, thank you Alpha.” You bow your head and speak with a respectful tone, it's second nature to you. Though your normal causes the alpha’s scent to spike uncontrollably, you don’t complain, you’d never admit it but the scent eases your entire body. You finish up your soup with ease and you’re about to get up and wash the bowl but Minho grabs it from your hand before you can fully get off the chair. You assume the worst, What did you do wrong? A whine settles in your chest and you look down, awaiting a punishment that doesn’t come.

“No. I’m not mad at you, I should be the one to wash your bowl, I don’t want you to do anything unnecessary! You’re already carrying a pup, that's enough work.” The alpha speaks sweetly, you’re still not used to that and you don’t feel like you ever will be.

Felix gets your attention again, gently taking your hand in his, he does that a lot it seems.

“Chan mentioned that he’d like to talk to you at some point today, we just want to get a feel on how you’re feeling, what you’d like to do going forward, all that good stuff. Would you like to do that now? We can go to your room?” Your room. Those words sound foreign. You’d be leaving soon, no? A pit settles in your chest, waiting for the ball to drop. Any second now this would all collapse like all good things in your life do.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” For now, all you can do is nod and stay in line.

#stray kids x reader #omegaverse stray kids x reader #a/b/o stray kids x reader #pregnant reader #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n. x reader #omega reader #poly stray kids x reader #skz x reader #han x reader #kim seungmin x reader

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bloodlineslut · 1 day ago

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chapter o n e

It was a Wednesday. Not that it mattered. Ever since India started being a social media influencer full time, the days just seemed to blur together.

Every morning, her manager and close friend, Karli, would send her a checklist of tasks that she needed to complete for the day. Whether it was streaming on Twitch, posting flicks for insta, or doing ad promos.

Ever since she started streaming on Twitch, her following had boosted in just a couple of days. She grew to really like it, and loved talking to all the people who supported her.

Even though most people thought she was a beautiful girl, she was single. She hadn’t been in a relationship for years, having got her heart broken bad.

She swore she would never let that happen again.

So, most of her interactions with men have been a meaningless DM, her texting them back, and the conversation going nowhere.

And India has talked to every type of man imaginable, from pro basketball/football players to even doctors and lawyers. But none of them actually drew her in enough.

So here she was, on FaceTime with her sister, Ivy, while she went through her notifications on Instagram, responding back to sweet comments and reposting people’s stories if they took pics with her when they met her.

“Mhm, girl. Mikey talkin’ bout he wanna go see them people wrestle this weekend in Florida.” Her sister’s son, her cute little nephew, was obsessed with wrestling and was always asking to go to a show.

“Aww, Ivy take my nephew so he can be happy!” India laughed and went back to the FaceTime camera so she wouldn’t be on pause on her sister’s end.

Ivy rolled her eyes and kept snacking on some chocolate-covered strawberries while she contemplated taking her son, looking mindlessly out the window.

“You think the tickets are expensive? Girl Imma be lost at the show. I don’t know no wrestlers.” Ivy asked before grabbing her laptop that was out of the frame and looking up the prices of the tickets.

“It’s probably like a concert, the closer you sit, the more expensive it’s gon’ be.” India reasoned. “And girl, you know at least one! Ain’t The Rock a wrestler?”

In the background of her sister’s camera frame, she saw her nephew walk closer to the phone. “Hi Auntie Indie!” He smiled and waved at the camera.

“Hi my bookie butt! I miss you!” India blew him a kiss through the phone.

“I miss you too…Are you gonna go with us to go see my favorite wrestler??” He put his little hands together like he was praying she would say yes.

India pouted at her nephew, she almost folded and said yes. “I don’t know Mikey, if it’s in Florida, I don’t think I can make it…”

Mikey’s shoulders dropped dramatically. “Aww, okay.”

“Mikey where you wanna sit at?” Ivy asked her son, pointing at her laptop screen with all the seat options. Ivy grabbed her phone and flipped the camera to show India as well.

“Girl! $800 to sit right by the ring?!” India just laughed at her sister’s reaction. She always was on the cheap side.

But $800 was a bit crazy though.

“But mom!! We’ll be really close. Please, please?” Mikey was jumping up and down, his curls flying in his face.

Ivy shook her head and grabbed her purse that had her wallet in it, and Mikey knew that was a yes.

“Yay! Thank you mommy! I love you!” He hugged Ivy and smothered her face in kisses, making her laugh and India smile adoringly.

Sometimes India wished that she had a little angel baby of her own to take care of, but the thought never lingered in her mind for too long.

By the sound of another happy scream from her nephew, she assumed that Ivy had secured two tickets for the upcoming show in Florida.

“Okay Mikey, now mommy has to get us a hotel and a flight. Go brush your teeth because we got errands to run after.”

“Okay! Bye Auntie Indie. We get to see Jey Uso!” Mikey kissed the camera before he ran away happily to his room.

India took a sip of her iced coffee that she had fixed earlier. “Jey Uso? That’s his favorite wrestler?”

“Girl yes. I can never remember his name. All I know is Mikey love doin’ that damn dance he does when he come out.” Ivy mimicked it, making India almost spit out her coffee.

“No way that’s what he does.” India asked.

“Look it up then.”

India did indeed look him up on Google and boom, there he was. The most recent pictures were of him in a wife beater, chains on, belt on, with his grillz and shades on. She saw his tatted up arms and instantly thought he was fine.

“Oouu Ivy, this guy is foineee.” She spoke out, still scrolling and looking at more pictures of the wrestler. She sees the link to his Instagram and clicks on it, thinking there would be better pictures of him on there.

As her phone switched to his account on Instagram, her eyes immediately snapped to that blue button that said “Follow Back”. Her eyes bulged a little.

She saw that he had 2 million followers but he only followed a handful of people, probably his family and friends.

“Ivy. Tell me why this nigga follows me on Insta.” She tells her sister, still scrolling through his page. It was mostly just promos for WWE, ads, and workout videos.

“Who?”

“This Jey guy!”

Ivy’s facial expression changed to surprise then playful dread. “Oh girl, don’t let Mikey hear. Then he gon’ be hounding you like he do to me.”

“Shut uppp. No but forreal, that’s crazy. Should I follow him back?” India’s thumb hovered over the blue button.

“Hell yea girl, that’s cool. It’s just a follow, no harm done.” Ivy convinced her sister to click that button.

“Okay Miss A-lister. I gotta go run some errands with Mikey. Call me tonight?” India clicked back on the camera just in time to see Ivy gathering her purse and wallet so they could be out the door soon.

“You so funny. And yes, we’ll talk later. Love you sissy.”

“Love you more.”

Not soon after, India received a text from Karli with a last-minute ad that a brand wanted her to do. It was a company that made stylish eyeglass frames. Karli basically told her that she would be getting a package today with different cute eyeglass frames and she just had to make a TikTok trying them on and reviewing them. All she had to do was post on TikTok and Instagram Stories.

She remembered that she never posted her flicks she took the other night when she was just chilling in bed.

After staring at the pictures for too long, she quickly pressed 'Post' before she changed her mind, and the likes and comments quickly began coming in within seconds.

liked by ft.gioo, uceyjucey, and 984 others

indialove late night flicks...

view all 460 comments

ft.gioo ho ur perfect😍

scamlikelybabyy india somebody needa wife u up

uceyjucey Damn mama. So beautiful.

thottiewottie ik damn well jey uso ain't in my girl comments

wwe.guy45 REF DO SOMETHINGGG

She always put her phone on do not disturb after making a post just because she hated watching the comments happen in real time for some reason.

She went about her day, keeping an eye and an ear out for her package that was supposed to be delivered today. It was eventually delivered, and she was really excited to try on the glasses. She took her hair down from the claw clip it was in and ran a brush through it to look presentable before recording the review and posting it on Insta and TikTok.

Not feeling like getting out in the city and driving today, she decided to UberEats her order for dinner from In-N-Out, a double-double meal with a strawberry shake.

It was 7:09 p.m. when the delivery girl knocked on her door after taking the confirmation picture. India quickly thanked her, locking her door back so she could dig in to the food.

"Oh thank God it's still warm." She said to herself as she took the contents out of the seal proof bag. She always drank the shake first before actually eating the food, which her sister always thought was weird.

She decided that she wanted to watch her show while she ate, How to Get Away with Murder. She had just started watching it last week and was already on season 3.

While the show was on a commercial break, India decided to check on her post she made earlier. She had gotten more likes in the time frame from when she first posted it to now. Now, the post had 101K likes and 1,209 comments.

All her social media friends commented and supported as usual. She loved reading the comments, the good and bad honestly.

"Somebody said I know damn well Jey Uso ain't in my girl com-" She gasped, putting the french fry that was on its way to her mouth down.

"You're lying." She said out loud to herself, scrolling fast and trying to find his so-called comment.

And there it was.

uceyjucey Damn mama. So beautiful.

She tapped on his username and it damn sure was him.

She gazed at her phone screen for a second, not sure how to react. She found that he commented that 8 hours ago which was around the time she first made the post.

"Oh my Goddd. This nigga liked it right when I posted it..."

As she was sitting in her bed, still thinking about the whole situation, she gets a DM notification from him.

[uceyjucey]: Anybody ever spoiled you the right way mama?

India took her glasses off and brought the phone closer to her face, as if she was hallucinating. Ain't no way in hell this fine ass wrestler was talking to her right now.

She decided to respond back after a few minutes, trying to be cool about it.

[indialove]: that depends. what is the right way?

Her message said 'Seen' instantly and those three little dots appeared on the screen.

[uceyjucey]: I'm tryna wine and dine you. You deserve it.

This made India smack her teeth. Even though she was popular on social media, she had only ever went on dates with her now ex-boyfriend and he always pitched a fit whenever she suggested that they go somewhere nice. In reality, she was actually very curious what it would be like to eat in a fancy restaurant with someone.

[uceyjucey]: You gonna be in Florida this week?

Another message came through from him.

Not even thinking about how fast she was responding to him, she texted back.

[indialove]: no i won't

A lot more time went by after he saw her message. She thought that would be the end of the conversation since they clearly weren't in the same area.

[uceyjucey]: We gon' talk more tomorrow mama. Here's my number. Goodnight pretty

India sat up in her bed in shock. No way this man just-

She didn't wanna admit it but this interaction had her geeked. The more she looked at pictures and videos of him in the ring or giving interviews, the more attractive he was to her.

It was something about him, and she was finna find out what it was whether she liked it or not.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #jey uso #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fic #jey uso x black fem oc #jey uso x black oc #x black oc #x black fem oc #bloodlineslut #black writer #wwe x black oc #wwe x black fem oc #uceyjucey #addicted

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darnell-la · 2 days ago

Note

okay these are my ideas for a part 2 of the reverse fan Lewis fic (I’m actually going insane for him)

Maybe Lewis and reader meet at another event and Lewis takes her on a date.. and when they go back to the hotel reader tells Lewis about the *dreams* she’s been having about him… 👀

(+ maybe they almost get walked in on by another actor????)

Im actually going crazy

note: Lewis Pullman is genuinely my time. I don’t have a time, but I know he’s my type. That man is unbelievably fine and talented. Lord, give me a chance.

Being flown out was never y/n’s idea of a plan in the dating scene. Especially by a celebrity known as Lewis Pullman. Ever since she flew back home, Lewis had been sending her gifts through the mail.

Lewis wanted to make sure y/n knew he had found something interesting about her and wanted to get to know her, so he wouldn’t leave her alone. It’s not like she wanted to be left alone anyway.

“This place is beautiful,” y/n said after they ordered their appetizers. “I knew you’d love it. That’s why I picked it,” Lewis slightly smiled before he poured y/n the sweetest wine he could order.

“You know I have money, right? I don’t want you paying for everything like I’m some-“ y/n went to say. “Some what? Gold digger? From my knowledge, you like me because of my acting and mostly my looks. I don’t think you’re a gold digger, princess,” he laughed.

Every nickname he gives her always makes her cheeks hot.

“Just enjoy, y/n. I like giving you what I feel like you deserve. This is actually only the bare minimum,” Lewis stayed honest, only making y/n’s heart beat faster as usual. Not only was he hot, but his personality and the way he goes about life were as well. She scored.

“What? You like that?” Lewis asked as he reached out to hold y/n’s hand on the table. “I-I, uh- Yes, I do,” y/n smiled back at the man, taking in every second she could since it’s been so long.

Throughout the night, y/n had been enjoying herself, but she couldn’t help but notice the table a bit to the side that had been looking their way a lot.

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been looking around a lot,” Lewis said as he began looking around.m, and that’s when he saw it. There was a group of girls at a table with their phones out in positions that wouldn’t be if they were actually doing something on their phones.

“Hey, look — It’s doesn’t matter. They can’t take videos all they want. Unless you’re uncomfortable? Then I’ll go over there and stop them for you,” Lewis said as he shifted in his seat, but y/n spoke before he could get up and leave.

“I-I’m fine. I just thought you might’ve been uncomfortable because you’re the famous one, and people will be all up in your business. I know that can like, affect your career in some way,”

“What? Y/n, I’m the one who flew you out and took you out in public. Even on the first day we met, I wanted to be out with you. I couldn’t care less if they see me with you. They’ll see you again later tonight at the interview,” Lewis said as he went back to relax in his seat.

“Lewis, I told you I don’t think I can just come with you to the interview. I’m not famous and I have absolutely no business being there,” y/n said, making Lewis shake his head with a laugh.

“We‘ve planned this for months, y/n. You think those people are going to keep those videos a secret? By the time we get out of here, you’ll be famous, and then you’ll have a reason to be at the interview with me.”

Y/n’s eyes widened before she covered her mouth. “When I say I like something, I like it, and I'll do everything I can to earn it. I hope I’ve earned you, and if not yet, soon,” Lewis grabbed y/n’s hand again for almost the hundredth time this evening.

“You’re full of surprises, Lewis, like- Oh my god,” y/n said, not really knowing what to say. All Lewis had been doing for months was building up to be with y/n, and she adores it all. Now she doesn’t seem so crazy for telling her close friends how she’s in love.

All might, Lewis had been speaking for y/n so she could get used to the spot like. The way he spoke about y/n only made her think further into what she’s been struggling with for the past few months or so.

Before y/n had a chance with Lewis, she had thought the man was unbelievably attractive. Fictional stories were an every-nighter if it was about him, but now that they’re something, she wanted more. It’s just — he hadn’t made a move like that yet, and she didn’t want to seem like all she wanted was his body.

“You havin’ fun, princess,” Lewis whispered in the slightly younger girl's ear, making her smile and move her body closer into his. “Of course — Thank you for inviting me,” y/n said, making Lewis chuckle loudly as he moved in front of her.

“Invited? Baby, this isn’t a date. This is your life now, okay? As of today, the world recognizes us as lovers. I recognized us as lovers months ago, but I’ll wait for you to get more comfortable.”

Before y/n could speak, Lewis planned a sweet and semi-long kiss on her lips. The crowd they hadn’t even known was watching cheered the two on, making y/n pull away from the shyness. Lewis laughed and waved to the crowd, going about it like it was normal because to him, it was. He loves y/n.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Lewis asked as the two made their way into the hotel room he had booked for the two for that whole week. The room felt like a penthouse. It looked so big and fancy.

“Yes, but let me take a shower first, mkay?” Y/n said as she placed her bags down. Lewis wanted to ask if he could join her, but he figured that would be inappropriate. Yes, they’ve been talking for a while, but he wanted to make sure she felt comfortable no matter what. “I’ll only new several minutes, not that long,”

While y/n was showering, Lewis ordered up a few drinks and snacks for their movie night. It wasn’t too late, and he knew she’d be down to stay up almost all night with him to relax and watch movies.

Lewis really enjoys y/n’a company, and he wanted to make sure everything he did showed her how much he did.

“Lewis!” Y/n shouted in the shower, making him get off the bed quickly and run to the bathroom door. “Yes, babe?” Lewis said as he knocked on the door, not knowing what to do. He just wanted to make sure y/n was fine in the shower.

“Could you give me my towel? I left it in the bed,” y/n said, a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” Lewis quickly went over to the bed, then back to the bathroom door.

“Should I, uh, come in?” Lewis asked before he placed his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah, yeah, just, uh, look away if you can,” and with that, Lewis opened the bathroom door while his head looked the other way.

“Don’t hurt yourself though,” y/n said with a got how watching the man walk backwards. As he backed up, y/n watched the man through the mirror, getting a good look at his naked upper body.

She knew he’d probably want to shower after him, but she didn’t expect him to be shirtless. She felt like a child who wasn’t allowed to watch grown-up movies. Lewis looked too hot. Hotter than usual, now that she’s face to face with him.

“Are you close?” Lewis asked as he held out the towel. “Yes, yes, just a little closer,” y/n said as she reached out so he wouldn't have to struggle anymore. He was so close, but y/n was losing her grip. After a few seconds of trying to hold on to the shower door, she felt herself slipping.

“Shit,” Lewis said as he heard y/n slip, so he quickly turned around and caught her. If she had fallen all the way, she definitely would’ve hurt something on this marble floor.

“Shit, y/n, are you okay?” Lewis asked as he pulled y/n to her feet to check if she was injured, but she quickly tried to cover herself. “Fuck- Yes, yes, I’m fine,” y/n said, being able to cover her front but everything in the back was open.

Lewis took a few seconds to look at her before slightly laughing. The shyness he could see across her face was beautiful. She truly felt a way around Lewis that other girls wouldn’t. She wasn’t quick to use him. Y/n has yet to use him.

“You don’t have to hide yourself from me, y/n. Trust me. I bet you’re beautiful everywhere,” Lewis said as he took a quick look behind y/n. She quickly looked back and recognized the mirror and herself in it. He can see her naked body.

“Oh my god-“ y/n said, about to panic, but Lewis quickly grabbed her face to pull her into a deep and long kiss. At first, y/n tried moving away to cover herself until her towel ended up falling right out of her hands.

“Shh, shh,” Lewis said in between their kiss as his hands began roaming her wet body. “You smell good,” Lewis spoke again before moving down to her neck to suck. He wanted to make sure she’ll feel him all over.

“Lewis,” y/n sighed as her hands traced through his hair. “Mhm hmm?” That was all he said as he began moving down to her breast. “You don’t think this is a little too much?” Y/n asked, not wanting him to regret anything after their first night together.

“If I don’t taste you soon, I’ll probably go insane,” Lewis admitted before latching his lips around one of her nipples to suck and lick at. That’s when y/n couldn’t take it anymore. All the moans she tried to keep back, she let out within seconds.

“Oh, baby — You’re sensitive, huh?” Lewis looked up into y/n’s eyes as she nodded. “Then I’ve got something for you,” he said before picking her up and pulling her out of the bathroom.

Lewis made his way over to their shared hotel room bed before throwing her naked body on top of their cover. He wanted to be gentle, but the way he pulled her to the edge of the bed and got onto his knees seemed very opposite.

“God, you look amazing,” was all he said as he scanned her face. The way she slightly dropped from her hole made his mind go crazy. Her lips were also so plump. He swore she was real. She just couldn’t be. That was until he leaned in to latch his mouth around her bud.

The second he tasted and felt her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop until she made him satisfied. He hoped that would be all night.

“F-Fuck,” y/n arched her back as his tongue lapped around and teased her folds. The more saliva he used, the more she felt the pleasure. He was working her so good.

“You taste so fucking good, baby, I just- I just can’t get enough. I wish I did this the first second I saw you walk into the plane,”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she lifted her head. “W-What?” Y/n asked as his hands rubbed all over his pussy. “I had my eyes on you before you even sat down, y/n. I just didn’t think you noticed me. I’m glad you’re the one who noticed. I got so damn lucky,”

Lewis went straight back to eating y/n out as she moaned and thought about what he said. His eyes were on her before she even noticed him. Every time he tells her something, she swears it’s to make her fall more in love with him.

“Oh, Lewis,” y/n cried low as her legs began to lock. “I-I’m gonna cum,” y/n struggled to whisper. Within seconds, y/n’s head began to go blank. She hadn’t had an orgasm like this in so long, and Lewis was giving her one with his tongue and fingers. No one had ever been that good but her.

“O-Oh my,” was all Lewis heard before y/n’s body began to shake. Y/n tried pushing Lewis off from the overstimulation, but he wouldn’t budge. She could’ve sworn he went hard as he pulled her into his face.

“Lewis, please- Fuck!” Y/n cried out, tears streaming down her face. She could even feel him laugh into her heat. He was enjoying this, and so was she. She loved the control he had over her, and knowing he wanted to show her he did.

“C’mon, princess, it ain’t that good,” Lewis chuckled as he leaned up to hover over her, face wet and dripping from the work he had put her through. It’s like he was made to do all of that.

“Y-You’re so mean,” y/n joked as she tried catching her breath. “Oh, really? Me, Mr. Pullman, so mean? Oh, baby, if you want mean, I can give it to you,” Lewis said as he reached into his pants to grab his cock that had been begging to be freed.

“I wanted to eat that sweet pussy a little longer, but I bet your face would be just as sweet when I’m really mean to you,” his voiced seemed so hypnotizing, almost making y/n forget he was pushing his cock through her walls.

“L-Lew-“ y/n instantly pushed at Lewis’s lower stomach. His cock felt like it was getting bigger every inch he pushed into her. “What? You can’t take it? Well, I mean, right? You want me to mean, right?” Lewis kept taunting y/n as he pushed into her further.

“I-I was just joking, baby,” y/n said, calling him a nickname for the first time. That’s how he knew he was in her head, and this was his new way of liking her. He loved her so drained that she’ll say anything. Her head raced everywhere.

“Baby? That’s a new one. Why baby? Are you expanding your vocabulary? Are you falling in love with me? Or — Or are you, uh, cock drunk? By the looks of your face, it seems you're all three,”

Lewis teased y/n with his words and strokes knowing she’d go wild once he really fucks her.

“N-Now you’re being mean,” y/n did her best to speak without moaning. “I don’t think I am yet,” Lewis said as one of his hands traced up her naked and still-wet body before wrapping his fingers around her neck. “But if you want me to, so be it,”

Lewis pulled hips back, making sure his cock came out just enough for him to slam back into her with a loud grunt. Lewis repeated, over and over, as y/n’s mouth parted.

“C’mon — Speak. Be a good girl and saw something,” Lewis continued to tease as y/n’a fingers dug into his back. “Speak before I start fucking you loose,” Lewis instantly threatened her with a good time.

“I love you, y/n, but I can’t go slow. You’re sucking me in so fucking time, I might just cum in you,” Lewis didn’t expect a moan from y/n after what he said. He swore he was just talking, but now he was considering.

“Fuck — You want me to cum in you?” Lewis asked, making y/n whine this time, not knowing what to say, but because of how good she felt, she wouldn’t care. She wanted all he could give. She wanted all of him.

“Oh, baby — Now I’m definitely gonna fill you up,”

#lewis pullman thunderbolts #lewis pullman x y/n #lewis pullman x you #lewis pullman smut #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman #bob reynolds smut #the sentry smut #the void smut #bob thunderbolts smut #top gun smut #top gun bob #robert reynolds smut

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vigilskeep · 2 days ago

Note

speaking of how cool and hot the female characters would be in your alternate inquisition game would be, what do you think vivienne would be doing? would she start off with the inquisition until you convince her that theres no returning to the way it was, or does she seek you out in a similar way to canon?

so there’s a couple avenues. one is making her the head of the inquisition’s loyalist mages as u describe. however, i would absolutely no question want you to be able to pull her over to your side, as the worst vivienne choice i can imagine is to double down on the vanilla game’s weirdly spiteful villainisation, and if i took that route i would cut out the redemption/recruitment possibilities for the inquisition’s advisors (at the very least for cullen & josephine) as imo it would be treading too much of the same ground. possible, and potentially rewarding, but a pretty steep cost given the place those characters also hold in people’s hearts. worth thinking about!

but frankly i love having her around so much that i favour keeping vivienne as a companion throughout the game. in this variant, even more obviously than in dai, we meet a vivienne living her worst case scenario. she was a fierce loyalist when the rebellions began, but as the rebels fled into the shadows she became the most outspoken, powerful mage left in the inquisition’s full sight, and it was proved once and for all that you simply cannot do things correctly enough to be absolved of being a mage. they turned on her. perhaps when she argued that mages simply could not, based on any known arcane knowledge, be to blame for the rifts. her supporters in orlais withered away, bastien was in no position to do anything, and celene was as quick to wash her hands of her as she was to use her. she has fallen so far that you, the so-called herald with your makeshift band of fugitives & rebels, are simply the only power left who will take her. and if you can really close the rifts, if she is seen helping at your side, then people will know that at least in this, mages were the solution not the problem. now on the run herself, it’s the only chance she has left to seize agency, safeguard her people, and, if she’s very, very lucky, return to power in the new world you shape

despite being on a “rebel” team, this vivienne shouldn’t be defanged of her politics. she should still blame the rebels for it coming to this. even if our party are pretty universally enemies of the inquisition one way or another, it makes sense for some characters to see it as an aberration rather than typical of the chantry, and to wish for things to return to the way they were. however, i’d also like potential room for character growth. this is vivienne’s first time truly free of the circle & chantry since she was a child, and if she experiences possibility at your side, if she’s encouraged to act based on hope rather than fear and you don’t disappoint that hope, it should affect her worldview. but you can also opt to encourage the path she was already on! as herald, you will have choices between the goals of restoring “normality” or gambling on a better future. this is a binary that will probably characterise your dynamic with many of the companions, especially vivienne, in a system inspired by da2 friendship/rivalry

as a visual note, i’d love to see her using the typical apostate furs and feathers to recreate her courtly outfits, to emphasise her navigating her new & old positions in the world. inspired by this concept art:

#i got too distracted by storytelling to focus on how hot she would be but like. it’s vivienne. you already know.#villainquisition

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artstennisracket · 2 days ago

Text

The Rival and the Lover

a/n: thank you so much to dani @ghostgirl-22 for beta reading and both dani and diya @diyasgarden for being vested, it’s helped me keep going! this is the longest thing i’ve ever written (7k-ish words) and posted, completely self indulgent but I hope you enjoy :)

pairing: ceo!art donaldson x ceo!patrick zweig

summary: art hates nepo babies, patrick is a nepo baby. hate to love, teasing, flirting, and tashi is all-knowing (and a lesbian) of course

cw: nsfw(18+)

[ao3 version here]

In Art’s head they were rivals. Art Donaldson was the second youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 investment company in New York City. His firm had their hands in many pots, buy-side, sell-side, reinsurance. He was second youngest only to Patrick Zweig. CEO of Zweig Limited Inc. He was younger than Art only by 3 months. Patrick was also a cocky son of a bitch. In Art’s head Patrick’s title didn’t even count since he was handed down that position from his dad. If there’s one thing Art hates more than egomaniacs, it’s nepo babies.

Art worked so hard to get where he was. Graduated his undergrad (summa cum laude) with a degree in Structured Finance. Busted his ass as an actuary, calculating risk for other people. Finished his executive MBA with a concentration in finance while still working full time. Now he runs the whole damn thing. His promotion was the culmination of hard work, luck, and networking.

So in Art’s head, they were rivals.

When Forbes dropped their 40 under 40 list, it ticked Art off that Patrick was listed one spot above him.

They’ve never met in person but Art was sure they’d bump into each other. Tonight was the Forbes lists gala where all the 30 under 30, 40 under 40, etc participants would come and receive their awards in person.

Lo and behold, during the cocktail hour while Art was ordering a drink from the bar, a voice sounded behind him.

“I would’ve bought you a drink but somehow I get the vibe you wouldn’t have come home with me after,” Patrick grins inserting himself next to Art at the bar.

“Of course you would assume that buying someone a drink means they’re obligated to engage in anything with you.” Art scoffs, pulling out his wallet. Since it’s an open bar, he grabs a $20 to put in the bartender’s tip jar.

Patrick watches him. Eyes glued to where Art picks up his whiskey glass to take a sip.

“You really think I’m a dick don’t you?” Patrick questions. He nods towards the bartender, “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“No,” Yes, “I just think that you think you’re above everyone else.” Art shrugs, taking another sip.

Patrick smirks, pulling his wallet out to tip the bartender a $100 bill. Art watches him. Show off.

“I don’t think I’m above anyone. Except for you, considering I am taller than you,” Patrick looks around, surveying the room. Whiskey glass weighing heavy in his hand.

Art can already feel his eyes getting tired of consistently rolling at everything Patrick says. “We’re the same height,” Art shoots back. It’s taking everything in him to not look at Patrick. He wants to say, Well let’s just stand back to back and settle this right now, but for some reason that feels a little childish. So Art settles with continuing to stare off at the gala happening in front of him.

Patrick turns back towards Art’s direction. He’s leaning against the bar, sizing up Art for a second. Looking him up and down at a painfully slow pace, like he’s contemplating something.

He’s about to step away from the bar but decides to leave Art with one last comment. He licks his lips before leaning in to whisper right by Art’s ear. Art almost flinches at how close Patrick is to him right now.

“Maybe in your dreams. Everyone’s the same height when they’re lying down,” Patrick winks at him when stepping away. He makes his way further into the crowd.

Art is frozen in spot. His heart is racing and his pants are tightening.

…

“No Tashi you don’t get it. I don’t like him, he’s an arrogant asshole,” Art says.

His desk phone is on speaker as he stands facing the floor to ceiling windows in his office, appreciating the view.

Tashi hums on the other side of the phone. Tashi was Art’s right hand women. He promoted her to CPO (Chief Product Officer) shortly after he was promoted to CEO. They’ve been best friends since college. Of course they had tried their hand at dating a long time ago, but decided it was better to be friends.

Her office was on the other side of the floor since she preferred south facing windows.

“Sure you do,” She laughs, leaning back in her desk chair.

Art scrunches his eyebrows together, turning to face the phone, “What? You know I do.”

“Okay let’s say you do hate him. It’s still clear that he wants to fuck you,” She shrugs, bored. Art was the most oblivious person on the planet, especially when it came to judging people’s perceptions of him.

“What are you talking about?” He questions sitting down at his desk.

“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. That man wants you Art. I know you complain about his email etiquette and how he speaks to you, but it’s so painfully obvious that he’s teasing you. Now whatever you decide to do about it is your own decision,” She sighs continuing, “Now that that’s settled, we have a 10am meeting with the rest of the board so I’ll see you there.”

And with that she hangs up, dial tone ringing throughout Art’s office.

…

Art doesn’t usually go to the company happy hours at the bar across from their office building, but he was trying to get know some of the new employees more, and hang out with some old ones he already knew.

There was alot of joking from his old teammates saying, “Well you’re the big boss now,” and “So when’s our next bonus exactly?” It was nice to just hang out and have fun for once. Tashi was right, being the one that convinced Art to go since “All you do is work, just go have some fun.”

Art was about to order another drink at the bar until the bartender handed him a glass of whiskey unprompted.

“The guy over there sent you a drink,” The bartender points to the other side of bar where Patrick is sitting. Oh fuck off.

Art storms over to the barstool Patrick is occupying, “Are you stalking me or something?”

Patrick huffs, “Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart.”

“How else am I supposed to take it when you buy me a drink?” Art questions, raising his voice. He was a little tipsy so maybe he didn’t need another drink anyway, this was a work thing after all.

“How many drinks have you had?” Patrick, amused, asks leaning his elbow on the bar top.

“None of your fucking business,” Art grunts, “Stay the fuck away from me.” He turns his back to Patrick, going to rejoin his colleagues.

Later that night, Art definitely got little more than tipsy.

Patrick had been watching him most of the night. He watched as Art got goaded into a drinking game that he shouldn’t have participated in. Watched Art go from tipsy to drunk ridiculously fast.

Once someone dared Art to dance on the table and Art tried to actually do it, Patrick stepped in.

“Okay I think it’s time to go home, don’t you?” Patrick asks, grabbing Art’s shoulder to pull him away from the table.

“You’re no fun,” He huffs slurring his words severely.

Patrick throws Art’s arm over his shoulder, walking them outside. “Hey no, don’t touch me,” Art slurs, making no attempt to push Patrick away.

Patrick gets off the phone with his driver, who’s now on the way to pick them up. He sighs, “I’m gonna take you home, what’s your address?”

“Stranger danger, ‘m not telling,” Art huffs like an absolute child.

“If you don’t tell me, then I’m just gonna have to take you back to mine. Is that okay?

“ ‘m cold,” Art whines squeezing his eyes together like if he imagines his bed hard enough, he’ll teleport there.

Patrick sighs in amusement, “The car is almost here.”

“But I’m cold right now,” Art whines again and Patrick rolls his eyes, despite how cute he thinks Art is being right now.

So he takes off his jacket, throwing it around Art’s shoulders and pulling Art into a hug. Shielding him from the cold. But Art is the drunk one, he shouldn’t even be cold.

The car ride is short, Patrick doesn’t live too far away and since it’s so late there’s not too much traffic. Patrick lives on the upper west side, in one of those brownstones that have been converted to one big unit instead of several smaller units. His house had 3 floors, equip with both an elevator and stairs. Specifically for times when he was too drunk to walk up two flights of stairs.

Except now he was loading Art into the elevator to take him up to the guest bedroom. Art had stayed quiet for the most part, tiredness most likely taking over. Art did make one comment about how big Patrick’s house, saying “This is like a million square feet,” hyperbole of course.

Once they got to the guest room, Art plopped face down onto the bed. Patrick took his jacket back, tossing it to the side. He pulls Art’s shoes off before asking, “Do you want me help you take off ur clothes or you’re okay?”

Art just mumbles something incoherent and shakes his head into his pillow. Patrick shakes his head, smiling. He seriously can not wait to see the aftermath tomorrow.

Just as he’s about to go to his own room, he hears a whine from Art, “Stay with me,” He slurs.

Patrick raises one eyebrow, “You sure? Not gonna try to kill me in my sleep or something?,” He jokes.

Art shakes his head no, “Can you just hold me til I fall asleep?” He says just above a whisper. And that’s the cutest fucking thing Patrick has ever heard, how can he not oblige.

He does grab a bottle of water and advil from the en suite bathroom, to leave on the night stand for Art when he wakes up. Afterwards, he ends up spooning Art in his 2nd floor guest bedroom.

What Patrick expects to wake up to is a disgruntled hungover Art who berates him for taking Art home against his will. Probably says a couple smart things about how buying a drink does mean taking someone home for Patrick.

Instead Patrick has the absolute pleasure of waking up to Art mid wet-dream. At first he thinks Art is messing around, trying to get back at him or something? No clue.

They were still cuddling but now Art was laying on Patrick’s chest, one of his own legs thrown over Patrick’s leg. Except now Art was fully humping Patrick’s side. His hard length pressing into Patrick’s hip, grinding against him.

Patrick wasn’t sure if he should wake Art up until he hears a very soft, very faint whimper that sounds alot like Patrick leave Art’s lips.

Oh.

Oh. He smirks.

This just got a whole lot more fun.

Patrick keeps watching Art. The way Art is gripping Patrick’s waist to get a better angle. His whines getting a little louder, more distinguishable, he’s definitely dreaming about Patrick.

So Patrick being the gracious person he is, kisses Art’s shoulder before softly before moving his hand down to palm Art over his slacks (since Art refused to get undressed before passing out last night).

That really makes Art responsive, which in turn wakes him up.

Art takes a deep inhale through his nose, sitting up way to fast, very confused by his surroundings.

“What? Why—huh?” He questions, holding his head since he has a pounding headache. Still hungover for last night.

“Good morning,”Patrick laughs lightly, “You had a little too much to drink last night and wouldn’t tell me your address so I could take you home. So now we’re at mine,” Patrick continues, still palming Art’s hard length.

Art bites his lip to hold back a whimper, “Why are you—doing that?” Bringing his gaze down to focus on Patrick’s hand on him.

“Did you sleep well? Have any dreams?” Patrick smirks, moving to unbuckle Art’s pants.

“I-I didn’t—,” Art is flustered and his decisions making skills are still not fully recovered from last night.

“I think you did,” Patrick insists as he starts jerking Art off, “Tell me, I wanna know what happened in your dream.”

Art shakes his head no, “I didn’t—fuck, I didn’t,” He moans out. His hips are already bucking into Patrick’s fist. He’s already close.

“Why are you lying to me? Were you lying this whole time? Did you actually hate me or was that a lie too?” Patrick whispers in Art’s ear, taking the time to lick up the side of Art’s neck and nibble at his ear lobe.

Art groans closing his eyes, “Patrick I can’t,”

“Fortune 500 CEO gets a little stupid with my hand on his cock right?”

“Fuck—gonna cum, shit.” Spilling over Patrick’s fist, some of it even landing on his dress shirt.

Art leans back, slumping against the pillow. Patrick going to wash his hands and get a washcloth from the bathroom.

“You know, deep down I always knew it was an act,” Patrick says, walking back to sit at the foot of the bed, in front of where is sitting.

Art scoffs, “Wasn’t an act. I genuinely think you’re a dick.”

“Says the man who just let me jerk him off,” Patrick retorts looking at the cum stains on Art’s shirt.

Art huffs unbuttoning his shirt to take it off, “Doesn’t mean anything, thought you hated me too.”

“Why would I hate you?” Patrick chuckles.

“Because you’re like— or like—,” Art is realizing just how baseless his hate of Patrick was. Even if Patrick was a nepo baby, so was 80% of all the business world.

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Well it just feels like you don’t respect me and I get that our positions in this space are similar—“

“You think I don’t respect you?”

“Your email etiquette is awful and you always make fun of me—“

Patrick starts laughing, cutting Art off. “I was just teasing you, that’s just how I flirt. Didn’t know if you liked guys.”

“Oh.” So Tashi was right. Well when isn’t she right? She was going to have a field day once Art told her what happened.

“But I guess I have my answer now,” Patrick shrugs smiling, “If you want you can shower in the en suite. I should have some clothes in the closet too if you want.”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll do that,” Art sighs running hand through his hair.

“Left some painkillers on the nightstand and I’ll make us some breakfast so come downstairs when you’re done.”

…

Art made his way downstairs in a clean pair of Patrick’s sweat pants that were a little big for him and a white t-shirt.

He takes a seat at the kitchen island while Patrick finished plating their food. The silence is a little awkward at first. The only sounds being the utensils Patrick is using to plate their food, faint sounds from the street outside. Art is picking at his thumb, nervous habit he could never really kick.

He takes this time to observe his surroundings. Patrick’s house was surprisingly homey? It didn’t really seem like a bachelor pad at all. There were curtains on the windows, a plush rug on the living room floor, and a mix of family photos and art on the walls. It was still cohesive. A prominent vibe Art could only describe as warm.

Art’s condo was nothing like this. Tashi had offered to help him, maybe even hire an interior designer but Art didn’t see much of a point since he spent so much time in the office.

The sounds of the plate being placed in front of him startling him.

“Thanks,” Art says, eating a forkful of eggs.

Patrick goes to sit in the barstool next to him, but not before pushing the barstool to be impossibly close to Art, “Not what you expected I’m guessing.”

Art shakes his head no in between bites, “Thought this would be more like a bachelor pad or something.”

Patrick laughs before sipping his water, “God forbid a man have taste.”

“No it’s just nice is all. Like warm, homey,” Art shrugs not looking up from his plate. He had finished the eggs. There was a stack of 2 pancakes left untouched.

“First you think I have no taste, and now you think my cooking sucks?” Patrick gestures towards the pancakes on Art’s plate, “I saved you from embarrassing yourself in front of your employees, slaved away in the kitchen to make you the best pancakes known to man, and this is how you thank me?” He jokes.

Art side eyes him, small smile on his lips, “No I— the eggs were surprisingly good. Pancakes just have like no nutritional value.”

“Oh you’re one of those gays,” Patrick smiles shoving Art’s shoulder lightly. He stuck his fork into the pancakes on Art’s plate to start eating them.

“What are you even talking about?” Art scoffs. He’s not even gay he’s just…open.

“Like the guys who are always at Equinox because they have to workout and be fit and are so obsessed with their body image. And go to Fire Island every summer.”

“And that’s not…you?”

“I mean I never said it wasn’t me, but I still ate both our pancakes. Would love to eat your cake sometime though… ”

Art shoves Patrick playfully, “Fuck off,” He was actually enjoying Patrick’s company more than he’d like to admit. But it was already 2pm on a Saturday and he needed to start prepping for work on Monday. “I need to go home and- and yeah. I should go.”

“You can take the car if you want, I can have Paul drop you off,” Patrick offers.

“No it’s fine subways faster anyway,” Art says standing up, walking to put his plate in the sink “Thank you for breakfast and for saving me last night as you so nicely put it. Kidnapping is more like it.” As he makes his way to the front door to put his shoes on.

“Anytime,” Patrick smirks following him to the door to see him out.

…

When Tashi walked into Art’s office on Monday at 7:30am she knew something was different.

“You’re early,” He says out loud, not looking up from the two glowing monitors sitting atop his desk.

“I’m always here early, it’s nice working when the floor is empty,” She shrugs.

He nods, “Well usually it’s just me and my EA (executive assistant) since we both get here at 7.”

“No me and my EA also get here at 7 everyday,” She insists.

“Then how come I never see either of you then?” He leans back in his desk chair, looking at her as he speaks.

“You look different.” She continues, grazing over his question.

“What’re you talking about?”

Tashi perches herself on the edge of Art’s desk, crossing her arms. She studies Art face for a moment. He tries to keep his face neutral, unsure what she’s searching for. There’s no way Tashi would be able to tell what happened this weekend right?

“You seem more relaxed. Released some pent up energy maybe. Did you fuck someone?”

Blood rushes to Art’s face at the casual way Tashi can talk about something like this like it’s the weather, “No I didn’t fuck anyone. Now can you leave so I can prep for the board meeting?”

She sighs standing up, “Fine. But I’ll figure out what it is. I always do.”

…

Art had been in his head all day. Mainly about work stuff since Q3 was ending soon and anytime it’s quarter opening or closing he’s always busy. So pretty much he was busy all the time.

The added anxiousness of Patrick weighing on his shoulders. He doesn’t know what his next move should be. He had fun, sure, but what did Patrick want out of this? Like fuck buddies or like…more?

And maybe Art is just too in his head. Maybe it was a one time thing and that’s it. But why did that thought make him sad?

There’s a knock on his door which pulls him out of his thoughts. There leaning against the door frame, stood Patrick. Black slacks stretched over his long legs topped with a crisp white button up that had not a single wrinkle in sight.

“How did you even get in here?” Art questions as his stomach turns and his heart rate picks up.

“I have my ways,” Patrick shrugs, pushing off the door frame to walk inside the office, looking around, “This is nice, no privacy though,” Patrick notes looking at the wall of floor to ceiling glass windows that separates Art’s office from the rest of the floor.

Art keeps his eyes locked on Patrick’s movements, “I have a remote to change it to privacy glass. How did you even know I’d still be here?”

Patrick turns to look back at Art smiling, “You know I’m a CEO too right? Working until,” He looks down at the patek phillipe nautilus watch on his wrist, “10pm really isn’t that unfathomable. Where do you think I just came from?”

“Okay well why are you here is a better question?”

“Can’t a guy just visit their favorite irritable blonde post hangover handjob?” He smirks, sitting against Art’s desk. He pulls Art’s desk chair so that Art is sitting between the V of Patrick’s legs.

Art’s heart rate picks up even more which he didn’t think was possible, “What are you doing?” he says barely above a whisper.

“Here’s what I think,” Patrick whispers back, “I think you’re a little tense.” He moves his thumb to smooth out the lines between Art’s brows, “Why don’t you just relax, yeah? Let me take care of you.”

Art doesn’t know how to respond but before he can think of what to say Patrick getting on his knees under Art’s desk. It’s a little comical at first because of how tall Patrick is but he makes it work.

He’s unzipping Art’s fly and pulling down Art’s briefs just enough to pull his half hard cock out. Patrick strokes him a few times to get him to full hardness.

“Patrick we can’t do this here,” Art gasps out.

“It’s not like you’re trying to stop me. Besides, floor is empty,” He says before taking Art into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Art groans, his hands flying to tangle in Patrick’s curls.

Patrick makes quick work, sucking Art’s cock. He swirls his tongue around Art’s tip a few times before sinking down, letting Art hit the back of his throat. He continues sucking, swallowing around Art’s length. He pulls off for a moment, taking Art’s balls into his mouth, while jerking him off simultaneously.

“Ah-Patrick, please,” Art whines, hips bucking into Patrick’s fist.

Patrick smirks pulling away, “Thought you said I couldn’t do this here? Seems like you’re enjoying it.”

Art groans, the grip Patrick has while stroking his dick is perfection, in another state of mind Art would be thinking about how many other people Patrick has done this with before.

Patrick continues, “Yeah? Nothing to say now huh? That’s good, like when you get nice and stupid for me.”

Art feels like he’s going to combust if he doesn’t cum soon.

Patrick goes to stand up, hand still stroking Art’s cock, to lean in and whisper by Art’s ear, “Gonna let me fuck you? Right here on your desk? It’s the only way for you to relax fully…” he trails off.

Art doesn’t even realize he’s nodding in agreement until Patrick is swiftly changing their positions. He has Art bent over the desk, pulling down Art’s slacks and briefs.

“Here, help me out babe.” Patrick says bringing his fingers to Art’s lips. Art gets the message opening his mouth to suck around Patrick’s fingers. His coats them thoroughly before Patrick pulls them out.

“There we go,” Patrick whispers as two of his fingers sink past Art’s rim. Two fingers is alot to take right off the bat which leads Patrick to believe that—“Did you prep yourself?”

“No I— maybe,” It’s hard to focus with Patrick pumping his fingers inside Art. And if by ‘maybe’ Art actually means that he jerked off while fingering himself in the bathroom an hour ago. What? It was late, the bathrooms are singles, and there really was nobody left on the floor.

Thinking about Art getting off, fingering himself nonetheless, in his office? “Fucking hell,” Patrick says under his breath. He’ll ask Art to elaborate later, for now he just needs to fuck him as soon as humanly possible.

Patrick unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants and boxer briefs just enough to pull himself out, “Condoms?”

Art whines at the loss of Patrick’s fingers, “Don’t have any here, ‘s fine ‘m clean.”

“Are you saying you want me to fuck you raw Art Donaldson CEO of Trade Reinsurance? I haven’t even bought you dinner yet.” Patrick teases, dragging his tip across Art’s hole.

Art groans in anticipation and slight annoyance. Patrick being a cocky son of a bitch as always, “Patrick,” he whines, annoyed.

“Okay okay, relax. Said I was gonna take care of you, I meant it.” Patrick assures as he slowly pushes in until he bottoms out.

They both groan in sync.

Patrick pulls out slowly before pushing back in, setting a slower pace with harder thrusts, “Feels good?”

Art nods gripping the desk so hard his knuckles are white.

“That’s good. Just relax and take it. I’ll do all the work yeah?” Patrick grips Art’s hips to continue his pace, “You do so much thinking, all day every day, now you get to stop thinking,” he grunts out in between thrusts.

“Fuck Patrick—“

“Yeah that’s all you should be thinking about,” Patrick smirks, “Just concentrate on how good I’m making you feel. How my dick is stretching you open, fuck you’re so tight.”

Art feels like his brain is melting. The way that Patrick is quite literally stretching him out is more euphoric than he could’ve imagined. Patrick is assaulting his prostate, ramming into it over and over again.

“Fuck, I’ve thought about this for so long. Imagined it so many times. Taking you on your desk. You probably wish this floor wasn’t empty. All your employees seeing their CEO getting fucked stupid. Bet you couldn’t even form a sentence right now if you tried,” Patrick groans.

Stupid Patrick and his stupid fucking ego and his stupid fucking big dick. Art can’t tell if he’s more annoyed or turned on by the fact that Patrick is right.

Art is right on the edge so when Patrick’s hand grips Art’s cock, stroking to match his thrusts, the drag of Patrick’s calloused fingers sends him over the edge, “Fuhhhh…’m coming,” Art’s words slur as pleasure washes over him. It gets all over Patrick’s fist and some even landing on Art’s dress shirt and desk. That was the hardest orgasm he’s had in a while, and his left ear is ringing.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess of your fucking desk? Holy shit—fuck,” Patrick moans out as his thrusts get faster, his hips start to stutter and finishes inside Art.

Art lays limp against his desk, it’s a little uncomfortable since he’s bent over the top but he swears he could fall asleep right there.

Patrick sighs from exhaustion, pulling out and sitting down at Art’s desk chair behind him. Now this is a fucking sight. Art with his slacks and briefs pulled halfway down his thighs, dress shirt bunched up so his ass is fully exposed. It gives Patrick the perfect view of his own cum leaking out of Art’s hole, running down his inner thighs. Running all the way down to Art’s briefs. Fuck.

If Patrick was 20, he would’ve been hard again so fast.

But he’s not, he’s 33 and as much as he would love to use his cum as lube and fuck Art again, he should probably get them cleaned up instead.

“Should’ve known you weren’t a gentleman. What does a man have to do to get cleaned up? Or you just want to keep letting your mess make a mess of my clothes,” Art sighs from his place leaning over the desk.

Patrick snickers, “Well I wanted to take you dinner first but you asked me oh so nicely to fuck you raw Art Donaldson,” he stands up to pull his pants back up, buckling his belt. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll get you cleaned up. Just tell me where.”

Art gestures to the bottom left drawer of the desk and Patrick pulls out a pack of wipes. After Art’s all cleaned up and put together as much as he can be, Art plops down onto the sofa in the corner of his office with a sigh. Slightly wincing in pain from previous events.

Patrick stays where he’s seated at Art’s desk, “This office is actually really nice—“

Now it’s Art’s turn to cut Patrick off, “What is this Patrick? What are we doing?”

Patrick smirks, locking his eyes on Art, “I think you know what sex is we just—“

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Art is looking down at the floor now, fidgeting with his fingers.

Patrick takes in Art’s body language and his face drops, putting his teasing act aside, “I meant what I said before. I do want to take you to dinner, get to know you properly.”

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.”

Art takes a beat, looking up to meet Patrick’s gaze across the room, “And who said I wanted to date you?” Okay now Art was the one doing the teasing.

“Tomorrow night 8pm, I’ll pick you up from here. And wear those gray slacks I like, the ones from last Friday. Your ass looks insane in those.”

Art scoffs, “Okay whatever—“

This time they’re both cut off from the glass door to Art’s office opening. Their eyes snapping over to see who’s intruded on what they thought was an empty floor. It was almost 11:30pm.

It was none other than Tashi.

She leaned against the door frame crossing her arms. Her long white slacks and white dress shirt that looked pristine except for the fact that the top button was unbuttoned and there seemed to be makeup smudges by her collar. Very unlike Tashi.

“And who do we have here?” She asks.

Art tries not to panic saying, “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know this isn’t a work meeting. But relax I didn’t see anything, thank god,” She looks over at Patrick then back to Art, “Knew something was different.”

“It’s not what it looks like—“ Art starts

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Patrick interrupts, smirking.

“And how long has this been going on?”

“Since Friday,” They say in unison. Freaky.

“Well technically since Saturday,” Art corrects.

“I don’t know if that makes it better,” She laughs, “but good to know I was right, as always.”

“What are you even still doing here?” Art shoots back.

Patrick chimes in this time, “It’s obvious, she was fucking too.”

Arts eyebrows shoot up at that, taken aback, “Huh?”

“It’s obvious,” he repeats, “look at her face, even if there weren’t makeup smudges on around her collar or the top button of her shirt was still buttoned it’s still written all over her face,” Patrick shrugs, reading her like an open book.

Tashi is stunned but keeps her face neutral. She’s never had someone read her back, she likes being the all knowing omniscient figure. Maybe Patrick Zweig was more than meets the eye.

“No comment,” She says in a cool tone, trying not to let any cracks show.

But Art knows what that means, “Shit you’re right,” Art says to Patrick but keeps his eyes on Tashi.

Art thinks back to the conversation they had this morning about how Tashi and her EA supposedly get into at 7am everyday but he never sees them. It’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head.

“You’re fucking your assistant! That’s why I never see her or you in the morning” He accuses, a hint of shock in his tone.

“That’s actually hilarious,” Patrick chimes in.

“Whatever. How did you even get Art to put his own ego aside enough to make this work?” She gestured vaguely to the two of them.

“My ego?” Art questions. If anyone had an ego it was Patrick, not him.

Patrick starts to tell the story of how they ended up here, “Well—“

“No.” Art deadpans.

“It’s a cute story,” Patrick tries again.

Art groans covering his face with a pillow, “Fine.”

“Art had a wet dream about me, while sleeping at my house,” Patrick finishes, smiling like he’s so proud of himself.

Tashi cocks an eyebrow, “I think some backtracking is needed, how did Art end up at your house?”

“He got really drunk and—“

Art removes the pillow from his face to defend himself, “No, no, I was a reasonable level of tipsy at most and Patrick was the one sending me drinks anyway—“

“One drink.”

“And then he quite literally kidnapped me.”

Tashi thinks for a second before asking, “So you want me to believe that you were only tipsy yet somehow allowed yourself to be ‘kidnapped’?”

Art has no rebuttal and lets Patrick continue.

“Yeah and I took him to the guest room, so he could have his own space, and then he asked me to stay. Being the courteous host that I am, I stayed and we fell asleep together. Then I woke up the next morning to Art humping my leg and the rest is history.”

A blush rises to Art’s cheeks, he knew this story was ridiculously embarrassing, “No comment.”

“You’re right that is a cute story,” Tashi says in a way that Art feels is more patronizing than endearing.

“So how did you start fucking your assistant?” Patrick asks.

“And that’s my time. Have a goodnight gentlemen.” She finishes, heading out of Art’s office.

…

Art wasn’t sure what to expect on their date tonight. He wasn’t sure what to expect in this whole situation thing they were doing to begin with.

Patrick insisted on picking him up to keep the date a mystery. Art wasn’t sure he wanted the few employees left scattered on the floor to see him leaving with Patrick so he just met Patrick in the lobby instead.

Art was shocked to find out Patrick would be driving them today instead of Patrick’s driver. He drove a sleek dark blue maserati and if Art knew more about cars maybe he’d be able to distinguish the model too.

Dinner was at Maison Close. A french restaurant downtown that had amazing drinks and even better food.

“I would say I’m impressed but I can only imagine how many of your conquests you’ve brought here,” Art says as he takes another sip of his drink.

Patrick laughs, “Well unless you’re also counting family, the answer would be zero. I usually go here with my sisters when they’re in town.”

Art isn’t fully convinced but maybe if this thing was going to work, whatever this is, he should start to trust the things Patrick says.

“Well it’s…nice. I’ll give you that.”

“I believe the word you used before was impressed”, Patrick smirks before pulling Art’s chair closer to his. He leans in to whisper by Art’s ear, “Do me a favor, stop acting like you don’t enjoy my company.”

A shiver ran down Art’s spine as Patrick’s lips lightly brushed against his ears. “Well maybe I don’t,” Art says weaker than he would’ve liked.

Patrick lets his hand rest in Art’s inner thigh, next to Art’s growing semi. Fuck his hands are so big. How did Art not notice that before?

“You sure about that?” He whispers, sneaking his hand further up Art’s thigh until he’s pressed up against Art’s erection, “Because it feels like you do. And you wore the pants that I told you to wear. Like a good boy.”

A man with a thick parisian accent pulls them both out of the little bubble they created, “Mr.Zweig! I hope everything has been to your satisfaction tonight?”

Patrick sits back in chair, keeping his hand on Art’s thigh, “It’s been perfect night, just like every night I dine here. Thank you Antoine. Please give my compliments to Chef Edouard.”

The man whose name Art now knows as Antoine does a short nod, “As always. Ms. Zweig won’t be joining you tonight?”

Patrick’s sister. Okay well maybe Art should trust Patrick more.

“Not tonight but please, let me introduce you to Mr.Donaldson. CEO of Trade Reinsurance.”

A series of handshakes and pleasantries are exchanged before Antoine leaves them to enjoy the rest of their dinner.

For the rest of night Art allowed himself to be more open. Engaging in conversation that allowed him to share more about himself and learn more about Patrick. Funnily enough they both used to play tennis when they were younger, all the way until college.

And Patrick kept his hand right where it was.

…

Patrick and Art had been officially dating for 3 months. Art hasn’t really told anyone, not even Tashi. But he’s sure she knows anyway. Him and Patrick have been hanging out almost every weekend and sometimes on weekdays.

They text and call pretty frequently. As frequently as they can. Art finds himself staying up late at night smiling at his phone screen like a teenager. Until Patrick sends him a dick pic and it becomes a very different type of conversation.

Their jobs as CEO are still super demanding so they don’t get to see each other most weekdays. Especially during quarter open, or quarter closing, so again basically most days. But they’ve been making it work (mainly by Patrick showing up to Art’s office unannounced.) Like today.

He strolls into Art’s office without knocking as always.

“What’re you doing here?” Art sighs, eyes glued to his monitor.

Patrick pouts, tilting his head to the side, “Sorry I thought my boyfriend would be happy to see me. My mistake. How’d you even know it was me? You didn’t even look. And I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Art just points to the speaker phone in his desk, insinuating that his executive assistant had called Art to let him know Patrick was coming.

“Can you at least look at me? I came all the way over here to see those pretty blue eyes,” Patrick smirks sitting on the edge of Art’s desk.

Art sighs again, clicking his mouse a few times, locking his computer screen as Patrick makes his way over. Then he looks up to meet Patrick’s gaze with his own, “Yes Patrick you now have my full undivided attention for,” He checks his watch, “about 20 minutes.”

Patrick wants to make a comment about how Art should be taking his lunch at this time for at least an hour. Okay maybe 30 minutes. Okay maybe 20 minutes is more accurate. Patrick can’t even remember the last time he took a full hour lunch, maybe when he was an intern.

“I can work with that,” He gestures to Art’s now locked monitor, “Why’d you lock it? Scared I’m going to sell your company secrets?” He teases.

Art stands up so he can be closer to Patrick’s eye level. He shoves his hands in his pockets, “No I know you won’t. Just have something big coming up.”

Patrick pulls Art closer to him by his waist. He keeps his hands there, “Big like what? Bigger than my d—“

Art cuts him off, covering Patrick’s mouth with his hand, “I’m not even gonna let you finish that sentence. Sometimes I swear you act like you’re a 21 year old intern.”

Art can feel the smirk growing across Patrick’s face and under Art’s hand. He pulls Art’s hand away to intertwine with his own, “I mean I didn’t know you were into roleplay. We can make that happen if that’s what you’re into Mr.Donaldson.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, bringing his arms to rest around Patrick’s neck, “No. But if you must know, we’re taking the company public.”

Going public was a big deal. Working with a team of lawyers and analysts to establish an IPO, asses all the current internal stakeholders, current ownership percentages of board members, it was a lengthy process meaning that Art had been working on this way before him and Patrick ever started seeing each other.

“What? That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you,” Patrick smiles, “we should celebrate tonight. C’mon I’ll take you out.”

“I don’t know I think I just wanna stay in? I’m just so tired all the time, working even more ridiculous hours than usual. Just wanna relax.”

Patrick moves his hand to cup the side of Art’s face. Art leaning into his touch. “Then come over tonight, I’ll cook. Let me take care of you.”

…

On Art’s way out of the building he catches Tashi. She raises an eyebrow, “You’re heading home early. It’s only 7pm.”

“Yeah I-,” He almost slips up and says he’s going to Patrick’s, “Just going to get a quick session in at the gym before I go home.”

She makes an amused face, “Your gym is in your apartment building Art.” So he wouldn’t need to stop at a gym before going home, he would’ve just said he was going home. “It’s fine, go have fun with your man. You guys are cute.”

Art tries to fight off the blush rising to his cheeks as he makes his way out the lobby.

…

Patrick such cooked an amazing dinner that Art would’ve questioned if he even made it himself if Art didn’t get to witness Patrick cheffing it up in the kitchen. It wasn’t anything crazy, just steak, mashed potatoes and asparagus. And a side of red wine of course. Patrick grilled the steak to perfection (somewhere between medium rare and medium) while Art sat at the kitchen island pouring himself another glass of wine.

They ate at the dining table this time. Easy conversation that seemed to just flow like it was nothing. Everytime they spoke it was like they had been friends for years it was freaky.

Art has never felt more seen or loved, than when he was talking to Patrick. It was the little things he did. Like always making sure Art’s cup was full (whether it was alcohol or water), texting Art everyday at 12 pm religiously to make sure he eats something for lunch, helping Art put on his cufflinks the morning after sleeping over, always knowing what Art’s thinking or feeling at any given moment. That was insane.

After changing into comfy clothes, they started the movie in Patrick’s room. Cuddled up together in bed. Art had started to talk about the IPO again. How nervous he was about it, which Patrick engaged in for a little until he cuts Art off by kissing up his neck, “I think you need a break from work. From thinking. Think you can be good for me?”

Art nods biting his lip. This was another thing. Patrick always knowing what he needed. Being able to to tell when Art was stressed out, anxious, overthinking, or overwhelmed with work. Art thought he hid it pretty well but Patrick can always tell.

And it wasn’t always sex. Sometimes it was just being in each other’s company, not having to make decisions. Anything that wasn’t work related, because work took up so much of their time.

But most times it was sex. Only because it was the only thing that Patrick could guarantee would keep Art focused on him and only him. And Patrick definitely was not mad at that.

Patrick snakes his hand into Art’s briefs, stroking him to full hardness, “How about you fuck my mouth? Think you can do that for me baby?”

Art involuntarily fucks into Patrick’s hand while nodding, his body’s response to Patrick’s words.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Patrick smirks. He makes his way down Art’s body. Watching how Art’s abs contract once Patrick takes him into his mouth.

Patrick loved when Art got like this. Just pliant and perfect. Ready to please. To be good. Not a single other thought in his brain. Only Patrick, Patrick, Patrick. Moaning and whining and whimpering. It drove Patrick insane.

Art’s hands find their way to Patrick’s curls. Pulling just the right amount to ellcit a moan from Patrick that vibrates around Art’s length.

He starts slow. Slow thrusts, giving Patrick a chance to adjust. But he quickly lets the pleasure take over. His thrusts picking up speed, consistently hitting the back of Patrick’s throat. It’s sloppy. All the spit in Patrick’s mouth collecting at the base of Art’s cock. Drooling out the sides of his mouth. The squelching and occasionally gagging noises are obscene, only driving Art further towards release.

He opens his eyes to look down at the brunet taking him so well. Fuck. Patrick’s lips stretched around the girth of his dick. He looks like a slut.

“You look like a—fuck—like a slut,” Art groans, keeping his pace.

Patrick pulls off, replacing his hand where his mouth once was. The spit causing an easy glide as he jerks Art off, “Yeah? You like that? Keep talking,” wrapping his lips around Art’s tip to sink back down.

Patrick’s voice is already wrecked, raspy and hoarse. Art squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep his orgasm at bay, “Love your mouth. Your throat fuck. Think about it all the time. Think about you all the time.”

Patrick pulls off again to say, “Think about me how? Said you were gonna be good, so tell me everything. Wanna know all your dirty thoughts baby. Don’t hold back,” before going back to it.

Art pulls Patrick’s hair harder, before fucking his throat relentlessly, “You’re such a fucking cockslut fuck. Always coming to my office on lunch. Sucking my dick at my desk, shit. Sending me fucking nudes when you know I’m working,” he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Pulling Patrick up by his hair to look at him. Curls messy, eyes glazed over, tears threatening to escape, lips slick with spit. A fucking vision. Art smears his tip against Patrick’s lips a few times before guiding his cock back down Patrick’s throat.

Keep his grip in Patrick’s hair, and his brutal pace fucking in Patrick’s throat as his orgasm approaches.

“Your lips are so fucking perfect. Wrapped around my cock. Fuck you’re so fucking—. Want you to ride me at my desk next time. Shit. Want that so fucking bad. Want everyone to hear you, taking my cock so well. Wanna cum deep inside you ah. Think about it all the time. Think about you all the time. Dirty fucking whore. Such a slut for my cock. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” Art whines out towards the end. Burying himself deep in Patrick’s throat to make sure he gets every last drop.

After Patrick swallows and pulls off, he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, “How was that?” he smiles.

Art nods from his place on the bed, exhausted, “Good. Really good. Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me for that. Hands down one of my favorite ways to take care of you. It was fun with you doing all the talking. Hot.” Patrick smirks before moving back up to lay next to Art.

Art rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around Patrick’s waist to pull him closer, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

…

thank you for making it this far :)

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#mel writes✍🏾#challengers #patrick zweig #art donaldson #artrick #art donaldson x patrick zweig #artrick smut #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #tashi duncan #tashi gets her lesbian fantasy

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p-artsypants · 14 hours ago

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Astrid brought the cart over as he asked, and held his tail up as he maneuvered with his arms into the cart.

She got a little distracted watching the show. He was so skinny and rail thin, but the muscles in his arms and shoulders and stomach moved as he climbed.

Gods above, he was beautiful.

She helped him settle, making sure his dorsal fin was oriented with the swing she’d made.

“You know, I’ll gladly help you in and out of the cart and basin. I want you to feel independent, but I like carrying you. I like having you close.”

She draped the tunic on the side of the cart. “You can wear it if you want. Women are always covered but men can go shirtless when the weather is warm. As for the blanket, we’ll skip it for now, but I can soak it later on if you get a little thirsty.”

As he held her hand, she melted. There was so much love and tenderness in his touch. “I missed you too. You didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to apologize for.” She leaned in. “Honestly, I’m so happy the people that were there were the ones that saw. Snotlout’s a pain and he’s annoying and an idiot, but his heart is in the right place. He doesn’t want to see anyone, human or merfolk, suffer. And my dad…he can keep a cool head even in the most ridiculous situations. If this had to happen, I’m glad it went down the way it did…” she glanced at his tail. “With one glaring exception, of course.”

She squeezed his hand. “You’re so brave, and so strong. I’m…I’m in awe of you.” And she meant it. He went through all of this with more grace than she’d seen other people show in less damning situations.

He pulled her into a kiss, and she reciprocated with gusto, wrapping her arms around his neck and digging her fingers in his hair.

She was so happy she was able to do so. Kissing, kissing Hiccup, was becoming a favorite hobby.

She pressed her forehead to his. “Together.”

She leaned in for another kiss, knowing that her parents would be keeping an eye on them for a while.

It didn’t last nearly long enough before a sharp whistle interrupted them.

Astrid shot up straight, a furious blush on her face.

Her father stood at the door. “Can’t leave you two alone together for a minute. You sure there’s no mermaid magic at work here?” He smirked slightly.

Astrid exhaled, knowing that he meant it as a joke. “Yes dad, he’s supernaturally sweet and cute. Deal with it.”

Axel scoffed. “Cute. Only my daughter would find a merman cute. No offense, Hiccup.” He came over. “I’m about to head to work, but let’s get you set up somewhere comfortable first.”

🐟

The morning was pleasant. Hiccup was parked in the corner of the porch, where he was able to look out over the village. Some people waved as they passed, while others frowned in confusion. No one directly came up to talk, or yell, which was perfectly fine with them.

Phlegma placed her chair in between the two, much to Astrid’s displeasure. But she gave Hiccup a lesson on sewing, which he picked up startlingly quickly, and more efficiently than Astrid.

“Hiccup,” Astrid began, pulling at a tangled stitch. “Tomorrow’s the full moon. Do you think…?”

After a long training session, all Astrid wanted to do was cool off on the beach. Maybe a tiny swim, even though the ocean was so cold at this time of year. She pushed through the brush and staggered down to the shore.

Only to find a boy lounging in the shallows.

“Oh!” She dropped her axe in the sand. From his bare torso, she assumed he was naked. “Sorry! I didn’t know someone else would be…here…” as the apologies flowed, she realized from the waist down, he had green scales and a pair of fins.

No wonder she hadn’t recognized him.

“No way…” she inched closer. “A real mermaid! In the flesh! Are the stories true?” She stamped down her overwhelming curiosity for a moment to give him a stern point. “Don’t try anything fishy, mermaid. I’m very capable of protecting myself, got it?”

((I saw the prompt and went feral, hope you don’t mind))

[X]

Hiccup started, the water around him splashing as he sat up straight in surprise, before he moved a little further back, his cheeks flushed.

"No, sorry, I, I shouldn't--" Ducking his head, the merman awkwardly held up a hand, "Usually no one comes here..."

But his movements only caused his tail to briefly break the surface, emerald scales glittering in the sun for a moment before dipping below the water again.

Firmly, he responded, "Merman. I am a merman. And no, don't worry, I, I wasn't going to try anything...I know you'd probably kill me if I did..."

Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his hair, which had partially dried in his time sitting in the shallow water. "What, what stories are you referring to?"

He knew, or at least had a gut feeling about what she was asking, but he wanted to hear it from her. She appeared wary, but not fearful. Maybe these humans didn't have the same fears of his kind like the others?

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rannie-moon · 18 hours ago

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YOU BE FEEDING US BRO ‼️‼️😝😝😝 the desire:unleash showcase… 👀 smth fssss— anyways i came to say that i have an IDEA

this is idea is: remember when jake said that if he ever saw an engene irl he’d get them Prada and low n behold he actually did? what if heran did smth similar?? idk just think it’d be funny

YESYESYESSSSS OMW 😭😭😭 she'd lean more towards the humorous side of it though, she'd probably buy the engene something too but like at a cost. they're her besties and therefore she needs to clown them!! (just finished writing this, and I need her to be real so bad because??? I'm in love with her)

masterlist | wattpad

"‘heran, what would you do if you ever saw an engene in person?’" she read aloud, her lips tugging into a smile as she leaned back in her chair. the studio lights were dim—just how she liked them during late-night lives.

“Is this your way of asking if I’d buy you prada like jake?” she quipped, a teasing lilt curling around her words as she fiddled absentmindedly with the ring on her finger. “I didn’t know my girlfriend duties went that far,” she added with a laugh, her eyes glinting with amusement.

parasocial relationships in the industry weren’t something she typically encouraged. there was a line, and she made it clear to fans where that line was. still, some people couldn’t—or wouldn’t—be stopped. and when the delusion peaked, especially when it involved her, she never stayed quiet. she spoke her mind with the kind of clarity that only came from knowing herself well. there were levels to this, and she was always aware of them.

but she loved engenes. god, she probably spent more time talking to them on lives than with her own friends in person. their relationship—through the screen or in person—was special. she joked with them. she flirted at fansigns if she felt like it. she played into the girlfriend agenda sometimes, not because she had to, but because she genuinely enjoyed it.

at the heart of it, though, they weren’t just fans to her—they were her best friends. and she treated them like it.

her weverse replies made that more than obvious. her lives and vlogs felt like casual facetime calls with a best friend you’ve known since middle school—the kind where you’re sprawled on your bed, talking about everything and nothing all at once. meeting her in person didn’t feel like meeting a celebrity. It felt like running into someone familiar—someone who remembered your name, your stories, your inside jokes.

that’s why she teased them more than the other members did. Not to blur boundaries, but because that was the nature of their bond: playful, honest, real.

and if she did ever see an engene in person?

well, she'd probably say something ridiculous, pretend not to know them, then cave and give them a hug. maybe not the prada bag—but definitely the full heran experience.

"you know I don’t do things for free," she said after a pause, lips curling into a smirk. "I’d get something for you guys, no problem—but you’ll have to work for it."

💬 : work for it??? bestie this relationship is not transactional 🧍🏻‍♀️ 💬 : dear diary, my girlfriend is lowkey toxic... 💬 : god you're just like my annoying boyfriend 🙄 send the addy 🤭

she threw her head back at the onslaught of comments flashing across the screen, the apples of her cheeks aching from how hard she was laughing.

"you guys are so dramatic," she sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye and rolling her eyes with affection. her gaze dropped back to the screen, scanning the chat as her fingers still toyed with the ring on her finger.

then, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

"okay, how about this," she said, running a hand through her hair before leaning a little closer to the camera. Her tone dropped into that familiar conspiratorial whisper she always used when making promises she knew she'd regret. "If any of you ever run into me on the street—no matter where I am—and you have the nerve to ask me to play rock-paper-scissors with you, and you miraculously win... I’ll get you whatever you want."

💬 : YOU SNAKE!!! 💬 : right... so you're on my hitlist because you're so irritating rn 💬 : miraculously?? brb I gotta go manifest in front of my heran shrine 💬 : watch me camp at gimpo airport

her lips curved into a wry smile, eyes narrowing with that signature heran sass. “hey, don’t act like I didn’t give you a chance,” she shrugged.

In her nearly five years in the industry, only two people had ever beaten her in rock-paper-scissors: ni-ki (twice, by sheer chaos) and heeseung (once—but he definitely cheated). It had become an inside joke among engenes, to the point where fans would challenge her during airport run-ins or quick meet-and-greets. no matter how rushed or distracted she was, she always somehow managed to win.

there were even compilations online of heran destroying fans and staff alike in the game, usually followed by her smug, “too easy,” and the devastated groans of whoever dared challenge her.

so really, this wasn’t just a giveaway—it was a test of fate.

"you want that prada bag?" she added, crossing her arms as she leant back further in her chair. "then come take it from me. fair and square."

and just like that, the live chat exploded.

heran didn’t mind making the little pact. In fact, she welcomed it—because she already knew exactly who would have the nerve to approach her.

not the sasaengs—they were always too overwhelmed when confronted with her presence in real life, often freezing up or scuttling away before getting too close. and definitely not the weird fangirls who didn’t understand boundaries. no, the only engenes bold enough to walk up to her, look her dead in the eye, and throw down without shaking or screaming were the ones who matched her freak.

the ones who caught her drift, knew where the line was, and saw her exactly how she intended to be seen: as a best friend. not a fantasy. not a goddess. just heran.

one morning, on her way to a local bakery, she caught a group of students headed to school—three of them, clearly engenes, already grinning before they even got to her.

“are we really doing this?” one of them asked, holding out a hand.

heran didn’t even pause. “you’ve got one shot each.”

“you seeing a shaman for this?” one of the girls asked, squinting at her suspiciously.

rock. paper. scissors.

three games, three losses.

all executed with the same smug flick of her wrist.

heran stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “no, but you probably should,” she teased. “all three of you.”

“you’re so lucky we have a math test today,” another girl muttered, gesturing to the group as they slowly started backing away, like they weren’t done with her yet. “or else we’d stay and grill you for spoilers.”

heran stood her ground, hands on her hips, watching them go like a proud older sister sending off a pack of chaotic cousins. “good luck on your test!” she called after them.

“good luck yourself!” one of them yelled back without missing a beat.

that made heran laugh out loud, full and unfiltered, still standing on the sidewalk like she had all the time in the world. she hadn’t even stepped foot inside the bakery yet.

somehow, that short exchange made her morning better than any pastry ever could.

and they kept coming, more confrontations, more casual interactions. whether she was alone or with her members she stood her ground.

she even posted about the confrontations as an update.

okay now I'm just convinced that you guys lose for fun because I met six of you today and you all lost. next live we're gonna have a rock-paper-scissors crash course

💬 : ni-ki said that you practice psychological warfare, is it true? 💬 : sorry, I don't speak "cheater" 🙄🤚🏻

It was nearly a week later when she ran into the same friend group from the bakery again. the encounter was purely coincidental—they all looked just as stunned as she did when they locked eyes across the mall.

but there was a problem.

there were four of them now.

and they were walking straight toward her and jungwon.

“what’s happening?” jungwon asked quietly, his voice low and cautious. his brows furrowed and his stance shifted like he was preparing to bolt. years in the industry had taught him how quickly harmless situations could spiral, and he wasn’t about to get ambushed mid-date.

heran didn’t answer. she just watched them with a knowing smile tugging at her lips as the group made their way across the polished mall floor, practically beaming.

when they were close enough, she nodded in greeting. “you stalking me now or something?”

jungwon stiffened beside her at the comment—his idol instincts kicking in. one wrong reaction, one misread tone, and that line alone could cause trouble if this was the wrong kind of crowd.

but to his relief, the girls burst out laughing.

“you wish,” one of them shot back with a playful eye roll, the kind that only came from people who got it.

and the members liked to call them "heran's engenes". same vibe, same sense of humour, and the same silent respect .

“we brought reinforcements,” another girl added, gesturing toward the unfamiliar fourth member of the group, who looked mildly confused but went along with it anyway.

“for the experience, I guess,” the new girl said with a shrug, lifting her right hand and wiggling her fingers. “let’s see what the hype’s about.”

heran bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning too hard. Without a word, she handed her handbag to jungwon, who took it with no protest—clearly used to this kind of thing. he was already pulling out his phone and opening the camera like it was second nature.

“are you recording?” she asked, arching a brow.

“obviously,” he muttered, already hitting record. “I need proof when you inevitably crush their spirits again.”

“confidence,” she said approvingly, rolling her sleeves up just slightly before facing the group. “alright. lets go.”

and just like that, the mall was their battlefield.

“rock, paper, scissors—shoot!”

the reaction was immediate.

scissors.

paper.

“NOOOO!” one of the friends yelled, dropping to her knees like she’d just watched a national tragedy unfold.

“another one bites the dust,” heran said smugly, brushing invisible dust off her shoulder as the new girl groaned.

“you weren’t kidding,” she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “she’s unbeatable.”

the group of girls huddled, whispering urgently. heran exchanged a glance with jungwon, who was still recording with the dispassionate focus of someone used to her antics. but then one of the girls turned back toward them with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“okay, one more chance,” she said, pointing—not at jeran, but at jungwon. “we want to verse him.”

jungwon blinked. “me?”

“you’re her boyfriend. you’ve gotta be her weakness or something.”

heran let out a loud, incredulous laugh. “you think he can beat me so you can beat him? that’s some chaotic logic.”

“C’mon, oppa,” one of them teased. “don’t be shy.”

jungwon sighed dramatically and passed the phone to heran. “fine. but if I win, they’re all buying me bubble tea.”

“If you win,” heran said, snorting, “I’ll buy you bubble tea and carry your bag next time.”

he rolled his eyes and stepped forward.

the girls started chanting like a ritual: “rock, paper, scissors! rock, paper, scissors!”

“rock, paper, scissors—shoot!”

jungwon lost.

paper.

scissors.

and the mall practically exploded.

the friend group broke out in cheers, jumping up and down in the middle of the walkway while mallgoers looked on in confusion. one girl even fell to the floor again—this time from joy—clutching her chest like she’d just been proposed to.

“LET’S GOOOOOO!”

“WE DID IT!!!”

“WE BEAT THE SYSTEM!”

“WE BEAT HER THROUGH HIM!”

heran was laughing so hard she nearly dropped the phone, clutching her stomach, her head thrown back as she wheezed.

jungwon looked mildly betrayed. “are you seriously filming me losing?”

she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “absolutely. this is the greatest day of their lives. I’m not letting this moment go undocumented.”

one of the girls pointed at jungwon. “You’re officially the weakest link in this relationship!”

“glad I could be of service,” he said dryly, though the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips gave him away.

heran shook her head and gestured for the group to follow her, spinning on her heel. “alright, as I promised. don’t even look at the price tags.”

the girls screamed again, huddling together like they were about to walk into a holy place. heran led the way, casual and unbothered, as if she hadn't just offered to foot the bill for four teenagers mid-mall.

Inside the store—an airy boutique with glossy white shelves and high-end accessories displayed like art—the energy shifted. the staff looked up, recognition dawning, but heran gave a small shake of her head. not today. no fuss.

“you’ve got ten minutes,” she said, already pulling out her card. “anything goes. jungwon, you’re the timekeeper.”

he raised an eyebrow. “so now I’m the assistant and the loser?”

one of the girls patted his arm. “don’t worry, you’re a very lovable loser.”

“I don’t know whether to thank you or be offended,” he muttered, but pulled out his phone anyway and set the timer.

the girls scattered like they were on a game show, darting between displays and debating with genuine panic in their voices.

“wait, do I go for the lip gloss or the mini bag—”

“no, are you crazy? That bag is ₩300,000, she said don’t look at prices!”

“this perfume has heran vibes. If I spray this every day, I become her.”

heran watched from a nearby bench, elbow propped on the armrest, utterly entertained.

“they’re moving like it’s supermarket sweep,” jungwon muttered, taking a photo of the chaos.

after ten minutes, the girls returned like survivors of a war zone—sweaty, giggly, arms full of carefully selected treasure.

“you sure about this?” one asked, eyeing the receipt with guilt and awe.

heran just raised an eyebrow. “you won fair and square. I’m a woman of my word.”

“but like…” another started, holding up the tiny designer pouch she picked out, “...are you rich rich or just in a really good mood today?”

she grinned. “both.”

the girls laughed, bowed repeatedly, and handed heran their phones for a quick picture. jungwon stepped in to take it, chuckling to himself as he captured heran posing with them, surrounded by shopping bags, peace signs, and wide grins.

“you’re spoiling them,” he said when it was over, handing the phones back.

“I spoil people who can beat me at rock-paper-scissors,” she said, nudging him. “so far, that’s just... not you.”

“wow.”

“don't pout, babe. you're still my favorite loser.”

by the time heran got home that evening, her name was already trending.

It started small: blurry photos of her in the mall, standing beside a group of girls with a soft smile on her face, jungwon lingering off to the side. then came the tiktok, posted by one of the girls, edited with sparkly text and chaotic captions.

🎥: when your parasocial girlfriend actually keeps her promise from a live and lets you rob the store after you beat her boyfriend in rock-paper-scissors 💅🏽✨🛍️ #heran #enhypen #jungwon #bestfriendera

the video was loud, messy, and perfect. It cut between clips of the game, jungwon’s shocked face, heran’s wheeze-laughter, the ten-minute “shopping sprint,” and the final shot of the girls holding up their bags like trophies.

comments flooded in within minutes.

💬: HERAN IS ACTUALLY THE REALIST IDOL 😭 💬: not her using jungwon as collateral LMAO 💬: this is SO unserious. i need her to be my maid of honor right now. 💬: it’s the “don’t even look at the price” for me 💬: “you’re still my favorite loser” 💔 she’s evil for that

It blew up on every platform. by the next morning, #HeranChallenge was trending across weverse, tiktok, and twitter.

the challenge? spot heran. beat her at rock-paper-scissors. win something ridiculous.

fans began documenting their “training arcs” in preparation. there were tutorials on how to read hand gestures. some even created parody videos of losing to cardboard cutouts of her, dramatically collapsing with captions like, “she beat me in spirit.”

during her next live, heran joined from her usual studio setup—ring on her finger, soft lighting, a smug little smirk already pulling at her lips.

“so,” she began, lips twitching. “I heard I caused a nationwide competitive panic?”

💬: yes. u started a WAR 💬: what did jungwon say 😭😭😭 💬: we’re forming tactical teams now bestie 💬: some of us are printing your face out for target practice

she leaned back in her chair, laughing. “you guys are unhinged. I love it.”

she went on to explain the “rules” were still in place—“If you see me and you’ve got the guts, go for it just know I’m undefeated.” then, with a wink: “except for jungwon. but that was a team effort. and he’s in training now.”

that part cut to jungwon walking into the frame, expression blank. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“nope,” she said cheerfully. “you're canonically the weakest link. even engenes said so.”

more content followed. fan art of heran in a gucci tracksuit throwing scissors. Memes of Jungwon with a caption that read “lost the game, lost the dignity.” edits of the original mall footage with dramatic music overlays and fake trailers like it was the climax of a movie.

within a week, news outlets were covering the lighthearted chaos. Interviews referenced it. MCs teased her on music shows. fans showed up to fansigns in t-shirts that read “scissors supremacy” or held signs that said “here to claim my prize 💳💥”

hybe even leaned into it. the official ENHYPEN account reposted the video with the caption:

“new variety idea? 👀 #HeranChallenge #TeamJungwonNeedsAVictoryArc”

she never expected a single off-hand live joke to turn into a cultural moment—but it did. and if anything, it only strengthened the bond she already had with engenes.

because somehow, she’d made being her fan feel like being part of an inside joke—one she was in on too.

taglist: @angie-x3@deluluscenarios @chaeryyeongz @akitoshi39i@sparklydoll444 @yunjiiin @kaitieskidmore97 @yb763@reibelhearts @enhaverse713586@dazeymazey11

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