#BUT it’s not about him - and not letting his family in on his plans can and does cause collateral damage to them

[gojosprettyprincess]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ UNCLE KENTO.

Tw - a bit dubcon, vibrator usage, age gap. Idk what this is. Not proofread

Dad’s best friend Kento pressing the pink vibrator that he found hidden inside your drawer flushed against your swollen clit while you’re sitting on his stiff cock. He’s buried all the way inside of your cramped cunt— filling up every existing space to the brim.

You can feel his plump, mushroom-shaped tip expertly pressing and rubbing against your sensitive g-spot as he places gentle kisses on your temple, urging you to stay quiet or else your parents will hear from the other room.

“Nanami… it feels weird—“ you whimpered softly, You stared down at the buzzing wand that’s assaulting your poor clit— the vibrating sensation making your legs tingled because of how overwhelming it felt along with his cock molding your insides at the same time. It was nothing that you’ve felt before.

It was quite embarrassing to have your dad’s best friend seeing you all exposed like this, considering how close and familiar Kento has always been with you and your parents. He’s practically like family so It made you rather, shy.

You slightly squirmed on his big lap, feeling his hard muscles tense in response, causing him to let out a low guttural groan before he quickly cleared his throat because of the sudden movement of your velvet walls contracting around his sensitive cock.

“Nanami? I’m sure your father raised you better than to call your elders by their name like that” he uttered sternly, almost sounding disappointed as he increased the vibrator’s intensity. “It’s Uncle to you, Darlin’.. Uncle Kento”.

Your head unwittingly collided with his firm chest, jolting you with the overwhelming scent of his minty, expensive cologne that clouded your senses. “S-sorry uncle!” You stammered as you sheepishly apologized to your uncle, prompting a fond chuckle from him because of how adoringly cute you are. So respectful and sweet.

He never intended to disrespect your father in this manner, having his needy cock cockwarmed by his daughter's tight, warm pussy and completely stretching and ruining it for any other man but what he’s doing isn’t entirely wrong… at least he’s someone your dad trusted and knows, that’s poking deep inside your cunny and not some young, stupid dude that would take advantage of a sweet girl like you.

He always thought you were a pretty little thing, always so nice and respectful— offering him his favorite green tea and the delicious cookies you baked every time he visited your home. Your thoughtfulness towards him never went unnoticed; You’re so precious to him so it’s only safe if your first time is with someone as mature and experienced as him. Someone who will be gentle and handle you like a fragile rose petal.

He never intended to accidentally stumble across the vibrator while he was searching for your charger in your drawer. You were in the shower, and he was staying over at your place for the night, so he required a charger and your dad told him that he could burrow yours. But he just couldn't ignore the pink wand poking from between your clothes. It caught his eye.

To his horror, you weren’t as innocent and pure as he once thought you were but that’s okay because it’s all for him. Uncle Kento will take good care of you.

He’s planning on teaching you about a lot of things, first starting with how to properly use the vibrator and taking his fat cock, both at the same time.

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | proposals

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested) : he surprises you... with a ring.

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : suggestive themes ୨ৎ : word count : 4586

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : a plead for more fluff, your prayer has been answered!

ʚ・max verstappen

“is it just me, or has max been acting weird lately?” you asked your friend as you absently fiddled with the hem of your jacket in the paddock. max was preparing for qualifying, and despite your effort to focus on the hum of activity around you, your thoughts kept circling back to him.

your friend shot you a curious look. “weird how? do you think he’s hiding something?”

you shrugged, letting out a small laugh to downplay your growing suspicion. “i don’t know… it’s not like he’s being distant or anything. he’s just been—antsy. like he’s waiting for something. it’s weird.”

your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your overthinking. “maybe he is hiding something,” they teased. “or maybe you’re just overanalyzing.”

you huffed out a laugh, but the thought lingered.

later that evening, you met max for dinner at a cozy restaurant tucked away from the usual chaos of race weekends. the two of you had managed to carve out this little slice of normalcy amidst the whirlwind of his career, and you always treasured it.

but tonight, something felt different.

max was his usual self—sweet, attentive, and playful—but there was an edge to him, like he was holding his breath. you’d caught him glancing at you more than usual, his leg bouncing slightly under the table.

you set your glass down and decided to just ask. “alright, max, what’s going on? you’ve been acting—”

before you could finish, the lights in the restaurant suddenly dimmed.

“what the—?” you muttered, looking around in confusion as candles flickered to life on the table.

and then, from the shadows, a few familiar faces emerged—your closest friends, your family, all smiling warmly at you.

your breath caught. “what is happening?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned back to max.

but when your eyes met his, he was no longer sitting. he was kneeling.

“max…” you started, your heart pounding as he smiled up at you, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion.

“let me talk before you say anything,” he said with a soft laugh, his voice slightly shaky but full of warmth. “i know i’ve been weird lately—sorry about that. i’ve just been planning this day over and over in my head. i wanted it to be perfect because…”

he took a deep breath, and you saw the slightest tremor in his hands as he held out a small velvet box. “because i love you more than i can put into words. you’ve changed my life in ways i never thought possible, and i can’t imagine spending another moment without you by my side. so…”

he opened the box to reveal a stunning ring, and your eyes blurred with tears. “will you marry me?”

for a moment, all you could do was stare, your hand covering your mouth as you tried to process everything. and then, in true fashion, you couldn’t help but joke through the overwhelming emotion.

“max, get up. you’re embarrassing me!” you said, laughing through your tears.

he laughed too, his cheeks flushing. “let me finish my speech, will you?”

you nodded, still grinning as he continued.

“i’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. you’re my everything. my partner, my best friend, my world. i don’t care if this is embarrassing because i’d embarrass myself a thousand times over if it meant i could call you mine forever.”

his words hit you right in the heart, and by the time he asked again, “so, will you marry me?” you could barely get the words out through your tears.

“yes,” you whispered, then louder, “yes! of course!”

the room erupted into cheers as max stood, slipping the ring onto your finger before pulling you into his arms. he kissed you, softly at first, then with all the love and relief he’d been holding back.

as your friends and family gathered around to congratulate you, max leaned close to whisper in your ear, “i told you i wasn’t being weird for no reason.”

you laughed, leaning your forehead against his. “you’re still a little weird, but i love you anyway.”

and from the way he smiled at you, you knew this was just the beginning of forever.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

“let me take you to italy early,” lewis said, his warm brown eyes fixed on you as he tried to convince you. “we can explore the city together before i have to make my debut with ferrari. just us.”

you hesitated, glancing out the window at the familiar, cozy gray skies of home. “but my home is here, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft. “here in the uk.”

lewis reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “i know,” he said, giving you that boyish smile that always made your heart melt. “but this’ll be different. just one week, before the madness starts again. come on, let me steal you away.”

you sighed, knowing full well that he’d already won you over. “alright,” you relented, a small smile tugging at your lips. “but only because it’s you.”

the trip was nothing short of magical.

lewis took you through the heart of italy, weaving through cobblestone streets and picturesque piazzas, his excitement contagious. he made you try every local delicacy, promising it was “for the full experience,” and insisted on taking candid photos of you when you weren’t looking.

midweek, he brought you to the ferrari factory. his face lit up as he showed you around, the glint in his eyes a mix of pride and anticipation. watching him interact with the team, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of admiration for him, knowing how much this new chapter meant to him.

and then came the last night.

lewis had insisted you get your nails done that morning, though he was unusually cryptic about why. “just trust me,” he said with a wink before leaving you to pamper yourself. when you got back to the hotel, you found a stunning dress laid out on the bed, a handwritten note from him resting on top.

“wear this tonight. no questions. xx lewis”

dressed and ready, you stepped into the car he’d arranged, and after a short drive, you arrived at the most breathtaking spot. the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over a lush hillside. string lights twinkled softly above a blanket spread out on the grass, surrounded by candles. a picnic was perfectly arranged, and standing in the middle of it all was lewis, holding your favorite flowers.

“you look stunning,” he said, his voice low and full of admiration as you approached. he kissed your cheek before leading you to sit.

the evening was perfect—good food, laughter, and stories shared as the world seemed to fade away around you. but as the night settled into a quiet calm, lewis stood and gently pulled you to your feet.

your brows furrowed as you looked at him, but before you could say anything, he was already lowering himself onto one knee.

“lewis…” you whispered, your hand flying to your mouth as he pulled a small box from his pocket.

“i’ve been thinking about how to say this for weeks,” he began, his voice steady but full of emotion. “you’ve been my rock, my partner, my everything. through all the highs and lows, you’ve been there, and i don’t know how i ever got this lucky.

“joining ferrari, starting this new chapter—it’s exciting, but none of it matters without you by my side. you make me better in every way, and all i want is to spend the rest of my life with you, sharing every moment, every adventure, every quiet night.”

tears welled in your eyes as he opened the box, revealing a stunning ring that caught the flicker of the candlelight.

“so,” he said, his smile soft and nervous all at once, “will you marry me?”

for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, overwhelmed with love and disbelief. finally, you managed to nod, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking before you said it again, louder this time. “yes, lewis. of course.”

he slipped the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you into his arms as you laughed through your tears. “i love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

and as you looked out over the beautiful italian countryside, wrapped in his arms, you knew this was the start of something even more incredible than you could’ve ever imagined.

ʚ・george russell

“you know,” you said, laughing as you took another bite of your lunch, “my friends keep saying the craziest thing lately.”

george glanced up from his plate, his blue eyes twinkling with curiosity. “oh? what have they been saying?”

“they keep telling me you’re going to propose to me,” you said, laughing even harder at the thought. “isn’t that wild?”

the laughter caught in your throat when george, mid-bite, choked on his food. his eyes widened slightly as he reached for his water, and you watched him with a raised brow.

“are you okay?” you asked, stifling a laugh.

once he recovered, he looked at you, a little too intently. “i mean… if i were going to propose, would you be mad?”

you tilted your head, smiling softly. “of course not, my love. but you’ve been so busy lately. i know you wouldn’t be planning something like that right now.”

george nodded, his expression unreadable. “right… of course.”

but something in his tone made you pause.

over the next few days, the idea seemed to follow you everywhere. your friends weren’t letting up, either.

“why would he ask you to get your nails done?” one of them asked pointedly.

“and your hair,” another chimed in. “he’s definitely planning something.”

you shook your head, laughing off their theories, though you couldn’t deny the tiniest flicker of curiosity. still, george had been acting a little… shady. subtle, but shady. you chalked it up to his usual busy schedule, brushing off the idea of anything more.

at least, until a few days later.

the beach was stunning, a secluded stretch of soft sand meeting endless waves that shimmered under the setting sun. you’d been surprised when george suggested a quiet getaway, just the two of you. he said it was to relax before the season picked up again, but something about the way he kept fidgeting had your nerves on edge.

as you walked along the shore, the golden light casting an ethereal glow, george suddenly stopped.

“wait,” he said, reaching for your hand.

you turned to him, your brows furrowing slightly. “what’s up?”

he smiled, a nervous but endearing smile, and before you could ask again, he was down on one knee.

your heart stopped.

“george,” you breathed, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

“alright,” he began, grinning up at you. “first off, i have to say, i cannot believe you didn’t catch on. you’re usually much more observant, love.”

your jaw dropped, half in shock and half in amusement. “you’re making fun of me now?”

he laughed, but his expression quickly softened. “i’m serious, though. i’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time. you’re my everything—my partner, my best friend, the person i want to spend every moment with. i love you more than i can put into words, and i can’t imagine life without you.”

tears welled in your eyes as he pulled out a small velvet box, revealing a sparkling ring.

“so,” he said, his voice steady and full of emotion, “will you marry me?”

for a moment, you just stared at him, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. finally, you nodded, tears streaming down your face. “yes, george. of course, yes!”

he slipped the ring onto your finger before standing and wrapping you in his arms. you laughed, still in disbelief, as he pressed his lips to yours.

“i can’t believe you,” you said between laughs, your head resting against his chest. “you really planned all of this?”

“i did,” he said, smiling down at you. “and i’d do it a hundred times over just to see that look on your face.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

“hermosa, would you like to go out for dinner on friday?” carlos asked, his voice soft as you stood by the mirror, finishing up your nightly routine.

“dinner? on friday?” you repeated, slipping into bed beside him, a smile tugging at your lips. “i’d love to, amor.”

carlos leaned over, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. “perfecto. the season starts soon, and i want to spend as much time as i can with you before it all gets busy again.”

you smiled, feeling your heart melt a little more—like it always did with him.

the days passed quickly, and soon friday arrived.

carlos, as always, had everything meticulously planned. he’d picked out your outfit—a stunning dress in your favorite color—and, true to his usual thoughtful self, made sure his suit coordinated perfectly. if you wore a red dress, carlos would find a way to incorporate red into his look, whether it was his tie, pocket square, or even the lining of his jacket. it was one of those little things that made him so uniquely him.

“you look breathtaking,” he said as he helped you into the car, his eyes filled with nothing but admiration.

“and you match,” you teased, running your hand along his lapel. “as always.”

he grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “siempre,” he murmured.

dinner was perfect—an intimate table for two at a beautiful restaurant with warm candlelight and soft music in the background. carlos, ever the gentleman, kept his focus entirely on you, listening intently as you talked and making you laugh with his playful jokes.

but as the evening came to an end, something about his energy shifted. he seemed more nervous than usual, though he tried to play it off.

“let’s take a walk,” he suggested as you both stepped outside.

the air was cool, the streetlights casting a golden glow over the cobblestone street. you didn’t think much of it until carlos suddenly stopped in front of the restaurant, turning to face you.

“carlos?” you asked, confused as he reached for your hands.

his dark eyes met yours, filled with an emotion so raw it took your breath away. “hermosa,” he started, his voice a little unsteady. “there’s something i’ve been wanting to say for a long time now.”

before you could process what was happening, he was down on one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

gasps and murmurs rose from the small crowd of onlookers nearby, but all you could focus on was him.

“i love you,” carlos said, his voice stronger now, filled with certainty. “i love everything about you—your laugh, your quirks, the way you care so deeply for the people around you. i love how you notice the little things, how you make every day feel special just by being in it. and i want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.”

tears welled in your eyes as he opened the box, revealing a ring that sparkled even in the dim light.

“will you marry me?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. and then, with a tearful laugh, you nodded.

“yes, carlos,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. “of course, yes!”

cheers erupted around you as he slid the ring onto your finger and stood, pulling you into his arms. he kissed you deeply, his smile pressed against your lips.

“you had one choice,” he teased quietly, a playful glint in his eyes.

“and it was the right one,” you replied, grinning through your tears.

as he held you close, you couldn’t help but think about how every little detail he cared about, every thoughtful gesture, every look, and every word all came together to make this moment so perfectly, beautifully carlos.

ʚ・charles leclerc

“ma chérie, you look beautiful,” charles said with a soft smile as he grabbed your hand and spun you gently, making your dress twirl. he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear before planting a playful kiss on your neck. “but you’d look better with it off,” he teased, his voice low and flirtatious.

your jaw dropped in mock offense as you lightly smacked his chest. “charles!” you laughed, shaking your head. “keep it in your pants, baby.”

he laughed, his green eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled you into his arms. “are you ready to be on the yacht for the first time since we’ve been back in monaco?”

you nodded eagerly, your smile wide. “of course i am. there’s nothing better than being with you on the sea.”

charles smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “je t’aime.”

“i love you too, amore,” you replied softly, leaning into him.

the two of you headed to the yacht, the sun casting a golden glow over the sparkling water. when you arrived, the crew greeted you warmly, and the yacht began to drift away from the dock, leaving monaco’s skyline behind.

charles took your hand, leading you up to the second level. as you stepped onto the deck, you gasped. a beautifully set candlelit table awaited, complete with a chilled bottle of wine and a server standing by. the soft glow of the candles reflected off the water, creating a magical ambiance.

“charles,” you breathed, looking around in awe. “what is this?”

he smiled, his gaze full of adoration. “i thought you deserved to be spoiled, ma chérie. it’s been too long since we’ve had time like this together.”

he pulled out your chair, helping you settle in before taking his own seat across from you.

“charles, this is really beautiful,” you said, your voice full of gratitude.

“anything for you, cherie,” he replied, his accent making the words sound even sweeter.

dinner was perfect, the two of you sharing laughs, stories, and heartfelt conversation. charles seemed especially thoughtful, his gaze lingering on you more than usual.

after the last course, he shifted in his chair, his demeanor becoming more serious yet still soft. “you know,” he began, his tone quieter, “being with you has been the best part of my life. i know i’ve been busy, and sometimes i’m not always there as much as i should be.”

you tilted your head, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “charles, what’s going on?”

he stood up slowly, reaching into his pocket. your heart began to race as he pulled out a small velvet box, his fingers trembling slightly.

“mon amour,” he said, dropping to one knee in front of you.

your hand flew to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.

“i’ve thought about this moment every day,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i love everything about you—your quirks, the little things you do when you think no one is watching, the way you make me feel like the luckiest man alive just by being by my side. i love your flaws, your strengths, all of it. it’s everything i’ve ever wanted in my life, forever.”

your tears spilled over as he opened the box, revealing a dazzling diamond ring that sparkled even in the candlelight.

“i want to spend the rest of my life with you, cherie. will you marry me?”

for a moment, you were too overwhelmed to speak, your emotions taking over. finally, you nodded, laughing through your tears. “yes, charles. yes, of course!”

the smile that broke across his face was brighter than the stars above as he slipped the ring onto your finger. he stood, pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply, your tears mixing with his own.

“i love you,” he whispered, holding you close as the yacht gently swayed with the waves.

“i love you too,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.

and as you stood there together, the sea stretching endlessly around you, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be—with charles, forever.

ʚ・lando norris

“lando, you’re being so distant. like, what is your issue?” you asked, crossing your arms as you sat in the passenger seat, watching him grip the wheel a little tighter than usual.

“it’s nothing, i promise,” he replied quickly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

but you couldn’t help the way your mind spiraled. “are you cheating on me?” you blurted out, your voice sharp and accusing.

lando slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over abruptly. he turned to you, his wide eyes filled with disbelief. “cheating on you? are you serious right now?”

“well, then why are you acting so weird!” you fired back, feeling frustration bubble over.

“i’m not cheating on you,” he said firmly. “and stop saying such irrational things before i crash the car!”

you huffed, crossing your arms tighter as he merged back onto the road. the tension hung thick in the air, but there was something about his tone that made you pause—he wasn’t just annoyed; he seemed… nervous.

after a few more silent minutes, the car pulled up to a secluded garden bathed in golden afternoon light. you frowned, glancing around.

“where are we?” you asked, the irritation in your voice softening as you took in the beauty of the place.

lando parked and stepped out, rushing around to open your door. he offered you his hand, and though you hesitated, you took it.

as you stepped into the garden, the feeling in your chest shifted. it was just the two of you—no other people, no distractions. the air was fragrant with blooming flowers, and butterflies flitted lazily in the sunlight.

your stomach fluttered as you glanced at lando, who was unusually quiet. he scratched the back of his neck, his signature nervous tell. that’s when it hit you—this wasn’t just a random outing.

“lando…” you started, your voice softer now.

but before you could finish, he turned to you, his cheeks flushed. “look, i know i’ve been acting weird,” he admitted, running a hand through his messy hair. “and i’m sorry. it’s just… i’ve been planning this for weeks, and i was so nervous i’d mess it up.”

you blinked, your heart pounding as he dropped to one knee, pulling a small box from his jacket pocket.

your hand flew to your mouth as your suspicions were confirmed, and a wave of emotions hit you all at once.

“i love you,” lando began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “more than anything. you’ve been with me through everything—the ups, the downs, the crazy schedules, the late-night arguments about absolutely nothing.” he let out a nervous laugh, and you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“you’ve seen the best and the worst of me, and somehow, you still choose to love me. i don’t want to imagine my life without you in it. so, here i am, asking you to make it official.”

he opened the box, revealing a ring that sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight.

“will you marry me?” he asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable.

you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling as you nodded. “yes, of course, yes!”

lando let out a breath he’d clearly been holding, slipping the ring onto your finger before standing and pulling you into a tight hug.

“i can’t believe you thought i was cheating on you,” he teased, his playful smirk returning as he kissed your temple.

“well, you were acting suspicious!” you shot back, laughing through your tears.

he chuckled, holding you close. “yeah, because i was scared out of my mind. do you know how hard it is to hide something this big from you? you’re nosy.”

you swatted at him lightly, grinning. “i’m observant.”

“sure you are,” he teased, leaning down to kiss you again.

and in that quiet, magical garden, with the sunlight casting a golden glow around you, everything felt absolutely perfect.

ʚ・oscar piastri

the great barrier reef had always been a dream of yours—a place you’d talked about endlessly. and, being the proud australian that he was, oscar had promised to take you the moment the season ended. true to his word, here you were, surrounded by vibrant coral and schools of colorful fish, the water shimmering like a painting brought to life.

oscar had gone all out, arranging a private guide and setting up everything to ensure the trip was perfect for just the two of you. it felt special, even more magical than you’d imagined.

after a long snorkeling session with the guide, you emerged from the water, still adjusting your snorkel mask as droplets streamed down your face. you caught sight of oscar standing on the sand, waiting for you.

but something was different.

your heart skipped a beat as you noticed him—barefoot, dressed in a loose white button-up and tailored shorts that made him look effortlessly handsome, his usual chill vibe intact. the sun cast a golden glow over the scene, and your breath caught when you realized he wasn’t just standing there.

he was on one knee.

your hands instinctively went to your snorkel mask as if to tear it off, realizing you were standing there in a dripping swimsuit, goggles pushed awkwardly onto your forehead, and hair probably a complete mess.

“wait… what are you doing?” you stammered, feeling your cheeks burn despite the cool ocean breeze.

oscar grinned, his calm demeanor never faltering. “what does it look like i’m doing?” he teased lightly. “just wait—don’t touch the mask. you look perfect.”

“perfect?” you let out a half-hysterical laugh, glancing down at yourself. “oscar, i look ridiculous!”

but he shook his head, his eyes soft and full of adoration. “no, you don’t. you look like you. authentic. beautiful.” he took a deep breath, his fingers curling tightly around a small box in his hand.

“being with you has made my life so much better,” he began, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “you’ve made even the craziest, busiest days feel worth it. and i knew this was where i wanted to do this because it’s so… us. a little chaotic, but amazing.”

tears stung your eyes as the reality of the moment hit you.

“i want to spend my life with you,” oscar continued, his usual calm exterior cracking just enough for you to see the emotion behind his words. “snorkel masks, messy hair, and all. so… will you marry me?”

you couldn’t help but laugh through your tears, nodding fervently. “yes! of course, yes!”

oscar slipped the ring onto your finger before standing and pulling you into his arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions.

“you know,” you sniffled, “i can’t believe you proposed to me when i looked like this.”

oscar chuckled, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. “i wanted it to be real. and let’s be honest, you’d never let me live it down if i’d done something boring or predictable.”

“well, you’re right about that,” you teased, your grin wide as you leaned in to kiss him.

“besides,” he added, his tone playful now, “even with a snorkel mask on, you’re still the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

you rolled your eyes, laughing, but you couldn’t deny that this moment, messy and perfectly imperfect, was so perfectly you two.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[prlssprfctn]

Bruce and Jason, who accidentally fix their relationship in a relative secret and distance from the rest of the family (Alfred excluded, of course), and decide to keep this fact as a secret from the rest of the family, just for fun. Because, let's be honest, Bruce is no less a brat than Jason is, he is just better at hiding it the older he gets.

Dick, sighing: Listen, I am about to invite Jason to this family dinner. And I don't care if you want it or not! And if you try to sabotage this day by your moral code lectures, I'll have a word with you! Bruce, indifferent, while messaging Jason at the same time: Mhm.

(On the other part of Manor) Tim: Honestly, I am not giving you a choice here. You will come to this dinner, Jason. Just... just ignore Bruce, alright? Jason, dramatically huffing, while liking Bruce's messages: Yeah, yeah, WHATEVER! Alfred: ...My circus. My monkey. I shall stay collected, nevertheless.

Damian: Father had been disappearing after patrols lately. I can't track him... What do we think is going on? Is he found himself a new child he plans to adopt soon? We can't get another sibling. Tim: Relax. He is probably into a new woman. Or a man. Whatever. Dick, worried: Guys, what if it is another villain or rogue? Jason, with whom Bruce spends time after patrol by munching fast food on the skirts of town: ...Lol Damian: That's not funny, Todd. Barbara, who knows everything: ...It is funny. Dick: Babs!

Tim: You know, Jason had been surprisingly chill lately. I knew he was doing better, but he stopped avoiding Manor that much. Bruce, arching his eyebrows: Alright? Tim: Do you think... maybe you two can finally talk? And fix your mess? Bruce, who just came to the cave after reading session with Jason, hiding his smile behind a sad face: I don't know, chump. It is complicated.

Dick, calling Jason randomly: Urgh, B is such a bitch! Jason, gasping: Right? Tell me about it! Bruce, sighing from his side of the couch as Jason puts The Crown show on his television: ...

[goldfades]

family ties | chapter one, DAYLIGHT | burrow⁹

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MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.7k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | the youngest kelce has spent her whole life navigating the chaos of her famous last name, always lingering in the background while her brothers took center stage. but when travis falls for taylor swift, she suddenly finds herself feeling like a third wheel in her own family. and after your heartbreak with an nba player, you never thought you'd find love again.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | just normal prologue stuff! kelce family bantering, mentions of jayson tatum, olivia h mention (IT WAS FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR), heartbreak (but no graphic descriptions), nothing else!

⟢ ┈ ev's notes: okay listen guys i had to think of a random basketball player and the first one i thought of was jayson tatum. if ur not attracted to him, just like... imagine someone else but the celtics are not mentioned so... it's fine!!!!! it's a minor little detail but yeah!

also, i might change some stuff that was from the OG fic just because it doesn't fit the plot i've made LOL. enjoy!

You were an accident in every possible way.

Born an astounding eight years after Travis, nearly eleven after Jason, you weren’t exactly planned. By the time you came along, your parents had been convinced they were done, their hands already full with two loud, competitive boys who spent more time wrestling in the backyard than sitting still. And then—there was you.

A baby sister in every sense of the word.

Your brothers treated you like some kind of rare, delicate thing at first, unsure what to do with you other than stare into your crib and poke at your tiny hands. But that didn’t last long. Before you could even walk, Jason was letting you sit on his lap while he played video games, and Travis had appointed himself your unofficial bodyguard, glaring at anyone who so much as breathed in your direction.

You grew up surrounded by chaos—loud dinners, backyard football games that almost always ended in someone getting tackled too hard, and a house full of laughter. Your parents tried their best to raise you with the same principles that had shaped your brothers, but you were different from the start.

Where Jason was responsible and steady, you were restless. Where Travis was loud and the life of the party, you were observant.

It wasn’t that you were quiet—no one raised in a Kelce household could be described as quiet—but you learned early on how to move through the world a little differently. Being the youngest meant you had to be quick-witted, fast on your feet, and always ready to hold your own. If you didn’t, you’d get run over.

By the time you hit high school, you had learned how to use your last name to your advantage. It got you free drinks at parties, easier conversations with teachers, and a built-in reputation before you ever had to prove yourself. But it also came with expectations—the kind that lingered over you like a shadow.

People expected you to be just like your brothers.

Maybe a little wild, maybe a little reckless. Definitely athletic. Definitely loud.

And you were some of those things.

You were an athlete, sure—your dad would’ve had an aneurysm if you weren’t—but not in the way people wanted. You had a sharp competitive streak, but you never cared about being the best. You played because it was fun, because it was expected, because you liked the feeling of winning, but you never had dreams of making it big. Not like Jason. Not like Travis.

And as for being reckless? You were a Kelce, so it was in your blood. But you were also smart. Calculated. Where Travis would throw himself into anything just to see what would happen, you thought three steps ahead. You weren’t scared of getting into trouble, but you were good at avoiding it.

That was the thing about growing up the way you did—watching your brothers carve their paths before you. You learned how to navigate things differently. You let them be the loudest people in the room while you played the long game, slipping through cracks unnoticed until you wanted to be noticed.

You didn’t date much in high school—not seriously, anyway. Not because people didn’t try (being a Kelce came with its perks), but because most boys were too intimidated by the idea of dating Jason and Travis Kelce’s little sister. You never really minded. Most of the guys at your school weren’t worth your time, anyway.

But you did notice the way people looked at you.

The way guys wanted to say they had a shot with you, even if they never tried. The way girls sometimes whispered about you, speculating if you were actually as down-to-earth as you pretended to be. The way teachers expected you to either be a slacker or a prodigy, like there was no in-between.

You weren’t sure when exactly you started feeling like an enigma—like people had decided who you were before you even had a chance to figure it out for yourself.

Maybe it was when your friends started bringing you to parties just because your last name got you through the door. Maybe it was when people started assuming you were only where you were because of your family. Maybe it was when you realized that, no matter what you did, you’d always be compared to the brothers who came before you.

By the time you graduated, you had perfected the art of keeping people at a distance. You knew how to smile just enough to be approachable, how to joke just enough to make people like you. But you also knew how to keep things yours.

And so you did.

You left home with the intention of making a name for yourself—outside of football, outside of the Kelce legacy. You weren’t running away from it, exactly. You just needed something that was yours alone.

And for the most part, you succeeded.

You built a life that had nothing to do with your last name. You found your own friends, your own career, your own world. You managed to exist outside of the NFL bubble, despite how often it tried to pull you back in. And for years, that was enough.

You were nineteen when you met Jayson Tatum.

Nineteen and reckless in the way only someone on the verge of something monumental can be—when success feels inevitable, and the world hasn’t yet taught you how cruel it can be. You had grown up in the shadows of your last name, in the periphery of stadium lights, in the echoes of your brothers’ roaring crowds. But Jayson was the first person who made you feel like the center of something.

You weren’t naïve. You knew what it meant to love someone like him—someone whose name was already in the rafters, whose presence carried weight before he even walked into a room. He was smooth, confident, charming in that way that made you want to believe him. And maybe that was the problem: you did.

It started fast, the way these things always do. Courtside seats, late-night flights, whispered phone calls from different time zones. He made you feel special, called you his “genius,” said he had never met someone like you before. But love with him always came with conditions. He loved you, but he wanted you to fit into his world, to mold yourself into the spaces left between his career, his schedule, his life. And you tried. God, you tried. You sat in the stands, smiled for the cameras, learned the rhythms of his world even when he never bothered to learn yours.

And it was never enough.

It was always push and pull, a constant cycle of breaking and rebuilding. He would tell you he couldn’t do it anymore, that you were too much, that he needed someone who understood his life. And then weeks later, he’d be back, whispering apologies, promising he had figured it out this time. And you—stupid, hopeful, nineteen, then twenty, then twenty-one—kept believing him.

Until December 2022. The last time. The worst time.

You had always been careful, always known how to exist just outside the spotlight, but this time, the breakup wasn’t just yours. It was public. Messy. Everywhere. Headlines dissecting your relationship, tabloids picking apart your heartbreak like it was something they were entitled to. Your face plastered across the internet, grainy photos of you leaving restaurants, ducking into cars, standing alone in a crowd. Strangers speculating about you, about him, about what went wrong, about whether you were as heartbroken as they hoped you’d be.

And the worst part? You were. You just didn’t want them to know it.

You had never cared about fame—not like that, not in the way the world suddenly seemed to demand from you. You weren’t built for it, for the attention, for the scrutiny, for the way people suddenly decided you were interesting now that you were broken.

It was the lowest you had ever been.

After that, you buried yourself in work, in building something no one could take from you. You stopped trusting the cameras, stopped giving interviews, stopped letting people in. And love? Love became something you didn’t have time for. Something you couldn’t afford.

Not until Joe. But that was another story.

⟢ JULY 2023

The Kelces did the Fourth of July the same way they did everything else—loud, chaotic, and with enough food to feed an army.

The backyard was still a mess from the day’s events. Empty plates stacked on tables, beer bottles scattered across the deck, remnants of water balloons forgotten in the grass. The kids had long since crashed, curled up in the living room after a full day of running around, and your parents had finally turned in for the night. That left just the three of you—Jason, Travis, and you—lingering in the kitchen, picking at the last of the food and settling in for what was, by tradition, gossip hour.

Jason was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, looking half-exhausted, half-amused as he nursed what was probably his final beer of the night. Kylie had gone upstairs an hour ago, throwing a “don’t let him stay up too late” over her shoulder before disappearing. Travis was still riding the high of a long day—barefoot, tanned from the sun, and grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

You, for your part, were perched on the counter, sipping a Coke because you had a feeling one of you needed to remain at least somewhat coherent.

“So, uh,” Travis started, reaching for the last deviled egg on the platter. “Speaking of cool people, guess who I started talking to?”

Jason shot him a tired look. “Oh, here we go.”

You glanced between them. “What do you mean, talking to?”

Travis grinned. “Taylor Swift.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jason groaned, running a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, Trav.”

“What?” Travis said, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s not a big deal.”

You snorted. “You just casually dropped Taylor Swift into the conversation like it’s the weather. That’s not normal.”

Jason pointed at you. “Exactly. Thank you.”

Travis rolled his eyes, shoving the deviled egg into his mouth. “It’s not like that. We’ve just been texting. I shot my shot, and what do you know? The Kelce charm works.”

Jason looked unimpressed. “Define ‘texting.’”

Travis chewed thoughtfully. “Like… texting.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Travis.”

He smirked. “Okay, fine. I invited her to a game. She didn’t come, but she thought it was funny. We started talking. She’s cool as hell.”

You stared at him, processing. “Hold on. You shot your shot with Taylor Swift—arguably the biggest pop star in the world—by inviting her to a football game?”

Travis shrugged. “I mean, yeah.”

Jason huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I hate that it worked.”

You leaned forward, intrigued now. “Wait, so what do you guys talk about?”

Travis grinned. “Oh, you know. Life. Music. Football. Friendship bracelets.”

Jason made a strangled noise. “I swear to God—”

“I’m serious!” Travis held up his hands. “She thought it was funny! That’s what started it, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes, skeptical. “And how often are you guys texting?”

Travis took a sip of his beer, clearly stalling.

“Travis.”

He sighed dramatically. “Every day. Okay? Happy?”

Jason looked at you, then back at him. “Holy shit. You like her.”

Travis scoffed. “Of course I like her, she’s Taylor fuckin’ Swift.”

“No,” you cut in, pointing at him. “Not just, like, ‘fan’ like her. You actually like her.”

Travis hesitated. And that was all you needed to see.

Jason whistled low, shaking his head. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

You grinned, tilting your head. “Or… it’s gonna be the greatest thing to ever happen to you.”

Travis gave you a look, something half-serious beneath all the usual bravado. “You think?”

You shrugged. “I think you have a long road ahead of you if you actually wanna date Taylor Swift. But if anyone’s got the balls to do it, it’s you.”

Travis sat back, considering that. Then he smirked. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Jason groaned. “Oh God.”

You hopped off the counter, stealing the beer out of Travis’s hand and taking a sip. “I can’t wait for Mom to find out.”

Travis laughed, shaking his head. “You’re evil.”

“You love it.”

And just like that, the topic shifted—because that was the thing about being a Kelce. No matter how big the news, how crazy the story, at the end of the day, you were just family. Talking shit in the kitchen, making fun of each other, and watching history unfold in real time.

The whole thing kind of unraveled in front of you.

One minute, Travis was dropping Taylor Swift’s name into a conversation like it was nothing, and the next, she was there. Not in a surreal, once-in-a-lifetime, see-her-from-a-distance kind of way—but in the real way. The kind where she was suddenly just… around. Sitting across from you at dinner, feet tucked under her on the couch, sipping a drink at the same backyard parties you had been going to your whole life.

It wasn’t weird, not exactly. It was just happening.

You had been close to fame before, obviously. Jason and Travis had built their careers in the public eye, and you had spent your whole life in and around that world, brushing shoulders with athletes and celebrities who treated your last name like a golden ticket. You knew how to navigate it, how to smile politely and act like it didn’t phase you.

But this was different.

Because this wasn’t just fame. This was Taylor Swift—and she wasn’t just a headline or a name on a stadium marquee. She was here, in your world, existing in it like she belonged. And the strangest part? She kind of did.

You liked her. She was easy to like. Funny, quick-witted, smarter than people probably even realized. She had this way of making everyone feel like they were the only person in the room when she talked to them. Even you, at times, when she wasn’t entirely preoccupied with Travis.

And, well. That was the thing, wasn’t it?

Because she was preoccupied with Travis.

That was the whole point.

She wasn’t your friend. She wasn’t coming around to hang out with you. She was here for him. And that was fine. It was great, actually. You had never seen your brother like this before—completely, stupidly, out-of-his-mind happy. He glowed around her, and you were happy for him.

But somewhere along the way, you started to notice it.

The third wheel feeling.

It wasn’t obvious at first. Not in the beginning, when everything was still so new and exciting and unbelievable.

But then came the dinners where you felt like a spectator to their conversations. The trips where you ended up walking three steps behind them. The inside jokes you weren’t a part of, the glances they shared across rooms like they were in on some secret that you weren’t.

And sure, Travis had always been larger than life. His presence had always been something you had to navigate around. But now? Now, there was them. And you? You were just… there.

It got to the point where even your nieces—who were still young enough to have no filter—started noticing. You’d barely sat down at one of your parents’ Sunday dinners when Wyatt, with all the innocence of a child, looked up at you and asked, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

You had laughed, mostly out of shock, but the sting was still there. And then it happened again. And again.

And that was how Elliot became your best friend.

At just over a year old, she was the only one who didn’t ask why you were always alone, or where your mystery boyfriend was, or when you were going to bring someone home like Travis had. Instead, she was just happy to exist beside you, happy to let you carry her around like a little security blanket when you needed an excuse to step away from them.

You spent more time with her than you did with the adults most nights, letting her babble nonsense at you while you tuned out the rest of the room.

--

Joe Burrow wasn’t born into greatness.

He was born into a world where nothing was guaranteed, where talent didn’t always mean success, where hard work didn’t always lead to the dream. He grew up watching his father grind his way through the football world, moving from coaching job to coaching job, never staying anywhere long enough to feel settled. He understood from a young age that football wasn’t just a game—it was survival. It was everything.

But for most of his life, Joe wasn’t the guy. He wasn’t the five-star recruit, the kid whose name carried weight before he even stepped on the field. He was good—great, even—but great didn’t always mean enough. Ohio State was supposed to be his shot, his moment, the place where he proved himself. Instead, it was where he sat on the bench, waiting for a chance that never came, watching other guys take the field while he tried to convince himself it wasn’t slipping away from him.

There were nights he thought about giving it up. That maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. That maybe football had already given him all it was going to. But he wasn’t built to quit, and when LSU came calling, he took the leap.

That was the moment everything changed.

LSU wasn’t just an opportunity—it was a resurrection. It was the first time he felt like the guy, like he wasn’t just taking up space on a roster but actually belonged there. The game slowed down, the doubt faded, and for the first time in his life, he thought: Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe I can be great.

Then came 2019. The season. The Heisman. The national championship. The moment his life shifted from maybe to inevitable. He went from overlooked to undeniable, from backup to first overall pick, from fighting for a shot to standing at the top of the football world.

And somewhere in all of that, there was Olivia.

She had been there from Ohio State, through the struggles, through the late nights spent questioning everything. She was safe, steady, someone who knew him before everything changed. And for a while, that was enough. They built a life together in the in-between spaces of his career—through the transfer, through LSU, through the draft, through the move to Cincinnati.

But something had shifted along the way. Maybe it was the fame, the pressure, the way football consumed everything in its path. Maybe it was the fact that he had spent so long chasing this dream that he didn’t know how to slow down, didn’t know how to be the kind of man who could put something else—someone else—first.

Or maybe they had just grown into different people.

The love had been real. That was never a question. But real didn’t always mean forever, and when the cracks started to show, neither of them could ignore them. The long distance, the late nights, the feeling of being together but not really together. Football had always been his first love, and Olivia had always understood that. But understanding didn’t make it easier.

By the time the breakup happened, it felt inevitable. A quiet ending, no messy headlines, no dramatic fallout. Just two people who had spent years trying to make something work, finally realizing it wasn’t meant to.

Joe had never been one for public spectacle, had never been the guy who wanted his love life picked apart. But that didn’t stop people from talking. From wondering when he’d date again, who he’d be seen with, what kind of woman would fit into the world he had built.

But he wasn’t looking. Football was still everything, still the thing that took up all the space in his life.

At least, until you.

[diushek]

The Omega Shen Yuan who reached his 35s single and without future views of a couple, accepting that promise he made with his (not) best friend Shang Qinghua that if they reach 35 years old single, and are still friends, they will have a baby together.

Shang Qinghua is an Alpha, and okay, he's not too good a match for Shen Yuan, but from the years he's known him, he thinks he can be a good father. And although they could spend money on assisted fertilization, it's a tedious process so, err, they do it traditionally.

They wait for Shen Yuan to come into heat, Shen Yuan goes off his birth control weeks in advance, things happen. The less said about it the better. It's for the greater good or something. Shen Yuan only hopes that one heat will be enough, because genuinely repeating it is not in his most enthusiastic plans (although he appreciates the company and comfort of his best friend).

And about two weeks later, Shen Yuan meets Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe is absolutely great, of course. He works in a small restaurant and his dishes are delicious. Shen Yuan and he become fast friends; Shen Yuan has a delicate palate, Luo Binghe's cooking is exquisite, and his company is pleasant. He's funny in a dark sort of way, strong, beautiful as a young model, with a strange amount of hobbies like martial arts, collecting jewelry that he doesn't wear... Luo Binghe is wealthy but doesn't spend on nonsense, which makes Shen Yuan theorizes that he was not always someone well-positioned in society. He finds himself going to his restaurant almost every day even though he could order delivery just for Luo Binghe's company.

And Luo Binghe starts flirting with him.

It's... At first, it's strange. Shen Yuan doesn't want to believe it. Shang Qinghua URGES him to open his eyes because FUCK THAT PRETTY BOY IS FLIRTING WITH YOU. Shen Yuan tries to flirt awkwardly, according to himself it doesn't go well, but Luo Binghe seems to fall quickly. They go on a date that ends with a sweet first kiss.

So, they're on their third date going to a movie theater, when Shen Yuan smells popcorn and nausea hits him so suddenly that he barely makes it to the bathroom.

As he finishes disposing of his lunch in the wc, with teary eyes and Luo Binghe rubbing his back, he suddenly thinks: it's been almost two months already. Oh fuck.

The date is cancelled, Luo Binghe accompanies him to his apartment and they say goodbye. Luo Binghe promises to come back as soon as Shen Yuan calls him, giving him privacy with a worried expression. Shen Yuan just stammers having eaten something bad and lets Luo Binghe leave with his heart in his mouth.

He then calls Shang Qinghua at least thirty times and places orders at a pharmacy for five different pregnancy tests. The tests arrive before Shang Qinghua. When Shang Qinghua arrives, upset and worried but with a fresh scent of an omega that Shen Yuan does not know, all five tests come positive.

... They have no idea what they're going to do with it.

Two months ago, they literally... weren't dating. They had nothing but an agreement to start a family if the opportunity came. So as not to lose the experience for the sake of time. Because they both wanted. Now, Shen Yuan thinks he might really be falling in love with Luo Binghe... And Shang Qinghua literally just dumped an omega in his bed!! What the hell are they going to do now!?

Shen Yuan wants that baby. No matter what, he wants this family. So, they decide: they will go on a double date with their current partners, and explain the situation to them. They can agree whether to leave or stay.

... Shen Yuan doesn't expect Luo Binghe and Mobei Jun to meet each other. He also doesn't expect the omega Mobei Jun to be the tallest man he's ever seen. He doesn't expect them both to look a little upset, but to decide to support their partners in that. The road to fatherhood. God, they must be so screwed.

They make a good deal: for the baby's first years they will practically share a house, Shen Yuan can afford to rent or buy something bigger. So, the baby will grow up with his parents together to help and educate them. From the third, fourth year, they will be able to move and will share equal custody, and both of them will be able to see the baby at any time, it's not like they were divorced with a legal agreement or something. Not a bad plan.

Shen Yuan wants to consider himself mature about this. He's going to be a father, he's having a baby, he has to take control of the matter.

Now, he has no idea how he is going to position Luo Binghe (and Mobei Jun) in his life, because it seems that Luo Binghe is planning to stay so much that he is already planning the decoration of the baby's room... with Mobei Jun who insists that the color blue is unisex if you don't give a fuck.

Ah. Well, he has a pack, of sorts. His baby, him, his boyfriend, his baby's father, his baby's father's boyfriend. All families come in different shapes and sizes, don't they?

[777bae]

ALL THE LITTLE MOMENTS JACK HUGHES

Summary :: You watch as Jack tenderly cares to your daughter’s every beck and call.

Warnings :: none

Word count :: 3.2k

You’re roused from sleep by the soft sound of little feet padding against the hardwood floor, the gentle creak of the bedroom door as it pushes open. The light streaming through the curtains is warm and golden, signaling that the day is just beginning. You stretch and turn over in bed to find Jack still asleep, his dark lashes resting against his cheeks and his breathing slow and steady. He looks peaceful, almost boyish, and you can’t help but smile. It’s rare to have a morning like this—no early practices, no flights to catch, just the three of you. These moments are your most cherished, the ones you hold closest to your heart.

Before you can savor the quiet any longer, your attention is drawn to the tiny figure standing by the bed. It’s your three-year-old daughter, her tousled curls wild and free, her big, bright eyes filled with excitement. She’s holding her favorite stuffed animal—a worn, floppy bunny Jack had bought her during a road trip to Boston last year.

“Mama,” she whispers, her voice soft but insistent, as though she’s worried about waking Jack. “Is Daddy awake yet?”

You smile and shake your head, reaching out to gently beckon her closer. She climbs onto the bed, her small hands gripping your arm as she snuggles into your side. Her presence is warm and familiar, her curls tickling your cheek as she leans against you.

“Let’s let him sleep a little longer, sweetheart,” you whisper, stroking her hair gently. She nods solemnly, but the glint of mischief in her eyes tells you she has other plans.

It takes only a minute before her patience wears thin. She wriggles free from your grasp, crawling over to Jack’s side of the bed. With the determination only a three-year-old can muster, she pokes his cheek softly at first, then a little harder.

“Daddy,” she whispers, her voice rising to an excited squeal. “Wake up! It’s morning!”

Jack groans dramatically, keeping his eyes closed as though he’s still deeply asleep. You can tell he’s fighting a smile, his lips twitching slightly. His hand shifts under the covers, reaching out to “catch” her as she pokes him again.

“Daddy!” she insists, climbing fully onto his chest now. “You promised pancakes!”

That does it. His eyes flutter open, and he looks up at her with a playful grin, his arms wrapping around her tiny frame to pull her closer. “I did, huh?” he asks, his voice gravelly from sleep. “I don’t remember making any promises…”

“Yes, you did!” she says, her curls bouncing as she nods emphatically. “You said pancakes today! With syrup!”

Jack glances over at you, his expression softening as your eyes meet. He reaches out to squeeze your hand, his thumb brushing against your skin. “What do you think, babe? Pancakes? Or should we just stay in bed all morning?”

You laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone. “You better get up before she starts bouncing on you. I’m not responsible for any injuries.”

Jack chuckles, sitting up and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Alright, pancakes it is,” he declares, hoisting your giggling daughter onto his shoulders as he climbs out of bed. He looks back at you with a lopsided smile, his eyes full of warmth. “Come on, Mama. Let’s make this a family effort.”

The kitchen is soon filled with the sounds of laughter, clattering bowls, and your daughter’s delighted squeals. Jack moves around the space with a relaxed confidence, his hands deftly gathering ingredients while your daughter “helps” from her spot on the counter. She’s wearing her favorite apron—a miniature version of the one Jack wears when he cooks, complete with a little hockey puck design embroidered on the front.

“Alright, chef,” Jack says, handing her a small whisk and a bowl of flour. “Mix this up for me. We need the best pancake batter ever.”

Your daughter takes her job very seriously, her tongue poking out in concentration as she stirs. The bowl is almost comically large compared to her tiny hands, but she handles it with determination.

“Careful, don’t spill,” Jack warns, leaning in to steady the bowl. His free hand brushes against yours as he does, and he pauses for a moment, turning to you with a soft smile. “Thanks for letting me do this,” he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I know I’m gone a lot… I just want her to have these memories.”

You place your hand over his, squeezing gently. “You’re here now,” you say, your voice equally soft. “And that’s what matters.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, before your daughter’s excited voice pulls him back to the task at hand.

“Daddy! Can I crack the eggs?” she asks, her wide eyes full of anticipation.

Jack glances at you, silently asking for permission. You nod, and he carefully hands her an egg. “Okay,” he says, crouching slightly to meet her eye level. “But I’m going to help you, alright? No shells in the batter.”

Together, they crack the egg, and your daughter’s face lights up with pride when the yolk slides cleanly into the bowl. “I did it!” she exclaims, looking up at Jack with a grin.

“You sure did, kiddo,” he says, ruffling her hair. “You’re a pro.”

You lean against the counter, sipping your coffee and watching the two of them. Jack’s gentle patience, the way he encourages her and laughs at her little jokes—it all makes your heart swell. He’s not just a good father; he’s an exceptional one. And he’s your partner, your love, your everything.

The rest of the morning passes in a joyful blur of giggles, sticky syrup, and playful banter, and soon the three of you find yourselves outside, soaking in the crisp autumn air. The breeze carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the distant hum of neighbors raking their yards. Your backyard is alive with the vibrant colors of the season—deep reds, golden yellows, and burnt oranges scattered in piles, creating a picturesque backdrop for the day’s adventures.

Your daughter darts toward the largest pile of leaves, her tiny legs moving with excitement as she shrieks, “Watch me, Mama! Watch me, Daddy!” She leaps into the pile, sending a cascade of leaves flying into the air, her laughter ringing out as the colorful flurry falls back down around her like confetti. Jack chuckles beside you, shaking his head as he takes in the sight. “She’s fearless,” he says with pride, his lips curling into a soft smile.

“She gets that from you,” you tease, nudging him gently with your elbow. Jack grins, but before he can respond, your daughter grabs two fistfuls of leaves and tosses them into the air again, her curls bouncing as she twirls beneath them. The sheer joy on her face makes your heart swell.

Jack sits beside you on the porch steps, his arm draping naturally around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his body cuts through the chill of the air, and for a moment, everything feels perfectly still, like the world beyond your yard has paused just for you. Jack presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for just a beat longer than usual. His tenderness is so effortless, so genuine, that it makes you fall in love with him all over again.

“She’s so happy,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with awe. You turn to look at him and see the softness in his eyes, the way they follow your daughter as she plays. “I can’t believe we made her,” he says, almost to himself, as though the thought still amazes him.

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “She’s perfect,” you say softly, your gaze fixed on your daughter as she collapses into the pile of leaves with a fit of giggles. “Just like her dad.”

Jack laughs under his breath, a sound that’s warm and familiar, and his hand moves to rest on your thigh. He squeezes it gently, a small but meaningful gesture that sends a flutter through your chest. “I don’t know about perfect,” he says with a playful lilt, glancing down at you. “But I’m trying.”

You tilt your head to look at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t even have to try,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re amazing.”

Before Jack can respond, your daughter’s voice interrupts, loud and full of energy. “Daddy! Chase me!” she calls, standing at the edge of the yard with her arms outstretched. “You have to catch me!”

Jack stands, rolling his shoulders dramatically like he’s preparing for a big game. “Oh, you’re in trouble now,” he says, his tone light and teasing as he takes a step toward her. She squeals with delight, spinning on her heel and taking off as fast as her little legs will carry her.

Jack takes off after her, his long strides making it easy for him to catch up, but he lets her think she’s outsmarting him. She zigzags behind trees, dives into piles of leaves, and shrieks with laughter as Jack pretends to just miss her, his hands swiping at the air.

“You’re too fast!” he calls, feigning exhaustion as he slows his pace. “I don’t know if I can catch you!”

She giggles, glancing over her shoulder to see how close he is. “You’ll never get me, Daddy!” she taunts, her voice full of glee.

Finally, Jack picks up speed, closing the gap between them in an instant. He scoops her up into his arms, spinning her high into the air as she lets out a delighted scream. Her laughter is infectious, and you can’t help but join in, clapping your hands together as you watch the scene unfold.

Jack holds her above his head for a moment, her tiny arms outstretched as if she’s flying. “Gotcha!” he says triumphantly, bringing her back down and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She wraps her arms around his neck, still laughing, her head resting against his shoulder.

From your spot on the porch, your heart feels like it might burst. You can see how much he loves her in every gesture, every laugh, every moment of attention he gives her. And you can see how much she adores him, how her little face lights up every time he’s near.

Jack walks back toward you, your daughter still clinging to him, her curls damp with sweat from all the running. He sets her down on the porch steps, brushing a few stray leaves from her hair. “Did I do a good job, Mama?” she asks, looking up at you with wide, eager eyes.

“You did an amazing job, sweetheart,” you say, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “And so did Daddy.”

Jack sits down beside you again, pulling you close as your daughter nestles into his side. You glance over at him, his face flushed from running and his smile soft and genuine.

He catches your eye and leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s sweet and lingering. “I love you,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours for a moment.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice steady even as your heart races.

As the day winds down, the warm glow of the living room lamps casts a soft light over the space. The three of you are nestled together on the couch, wrapped in a large, fluffy blanket that smells faintly of fabric softener and home. The quiet hum of an animated movie fills the room, but the real focus is on the way your daughter is snuggled up between you and Jack, her small body pressed tightly against his side. Her head rests on his chest, rising and falling gently with his every breath as her tiny hands clutch her well-loved stuffed bunny.

Jack’s arm is draped securely around your shoulders, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along your skin. It’s a gesture that feels like second nature to him now, an expression of love so subtle yet so deeply comforting. You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faintest trace of maple syrup from breakfast lingering in the air.

Your daughter’s eyelids droop, her determined effort to stay awake slowly giving way to the pull of sleep. She shifts slightly, curling deeper into Jack’s chest as a soft, contented sigh escapes her lips. Jack tilts his head to look down at her, his expression filled with quiet awe.

“She’s almost out,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. You glance up at him and see the tenderness in his eyes, the way they soften as he watches her. There’s something about the sight of Jack as a dad that makes your chest tighten with love. You reach out to smooth a curl from your daughter’s forehead, and Jack’s free hand covers yours for a moment, his fingers warm and steady against your skin.

By the time the movie ends, your daughter is fully asleep, her soft breathing the only sound in the now-quiet room. Jack carefully shifts, his movements slow and deliberate as he gently gathers her into his arms. She stirs only slightly, her tiny fists curling into the front of his shirt before she settles again, her head tucked under his chin.

You follow Jack upstairs, your steps light as you trail behind him. The hallway is dim, the only illumination coming from the faint glow of the nightlight in your daughter’s room. Jack moves with practiced ease, cradling her close as though she weighs nothing at all. When he reaches her bed, he kneels carefully, lowering her onto the soft mattress with a gentleness that makes your heart ache.

He tucks her in with a precision that comes from years of practice, smoothing the blankets over her tiny frame and making sure her bunny is nestled beside her. She looks so peaceful, her features soft and angelic in the dim light. Jack crouches beside her, his hand brushing a stray curl from her face as he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice filled with love. “I love you.”

Your daughter stirs slightly, her lips forming a sleepy smile as she murmurs, “I love you too, Daddy,” her words so quiet they’re barely audible.

Jack stays there for a moment longer, his expression tender and unguarded as he watches her. His thumb lightly brushes over her cheek, and you can see the depth of his love for her in that small, simple gesture. It’s a look you’ll never forget, one that reminds you of just how much Jack treasures being her dad.

Later that night, the house is wrapped in a comfortable hush, the kind of silence that comes only after a day well spent. The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathes your bedroom in a golden light, casting faint shadows on the walls as you settle into bed beside Jack. The warmth of the blankets and the steady hum of his breathing create a cocoon of safety, a quiet space where the rest of the world feels far away.

Jack shifts closer to you, pulling you into his arms with an ease that speaks to how natural it feels for him to hold you. His embrace is strong yet gentle, his hands warm as they press against your back, pulling you tightly against his chest. He leans down, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. The kiss lingers, a tender gesture that feels like a silent promise, one filled with gratitude, love, and unspoken devotion.

When his lips find yours, the kiss is slow and deliberate. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a pure expression of love. He cradles your face with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheek as though he’s savoring every second. The way he kisses you reminds you of every reason you fell in love with him—the tenderness, the care, the quiet passion that never falters.

As he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours. His breath is warm, his voice soft and laced with emotion as he finally breaks the silence. “She’s getting so big,” he says, his words filled with both pride and a bittersweet wistfulness. “I feel like she was just a baby yesterday. I blinked, and now… she’s running around, making jokes, cracking eggs for pancakes.”

His words make you smile, though a small ache settles in your chest at the truth of them. You lift your hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I know,” you whisper, your voice just as soft. “But she’s still your little girl. She always will be, no matter how big she gets.”

Jack tightens his hold on you at your words, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go. He buries his face briefly in your hair, inhaling deeply, as though he’s trying to commit this moment to memory. His hand begins to trace slow, soothing circles along your back, the repetitive motion calming and reassuring.

“I wouldn’t be half the dad I am without you,” he says, his voice low but earnest. “You make all of this possible, you know that? You’ve given me everything—her, this life, all of it. I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

The raw sincerity in his tone makes your throat tighten, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away. There’s so much love there, so much gratitude, that you can feel it radiating from him without him needing to say another word.

“Jack,” you say softly, your voice trembling slightly as you try to hold back your emotions. “You’re an amazing dad. She’s so lucky to have you… we both are.” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over his jawline as you smile through the tears threatening to spill over. “You don’t even realize how much you mean to us.”

He shakes his head lightly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leans in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is deeper, full of emotion that words could never fully convey. His lips are warm and tender, and when he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours again, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you.

“No,” he says quietly, his voice steady and sure. “I’m the lucky one.”

The way he says it, the way his eyes stay locked on yours, makes your chest tighten. You don’t argue with him, because in this moment, you both know the truth: the life you’ve built together, the family you’ve created, is a gift you’ve given each other.

As Jack pulls you closer, tucking you against his chest, his hand continues its slow, soothing rhythm along your back. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and it lulls you into a peaceful state.

As you drift off to sleep in his arms, your heart full of love and gratitude, you know with absolute certainty that he’s right. You’re all lucky—to have each other, to share this life, to be a family.

[scentofhydrangea]

warnings a bit of smut, breeding, he calls reader a slut, otherwise just fluff

thinking sooooo hard about a big italian wedding with luigi omg

i feel like he’s not the type to initially want a big wedding but then the more you two discuss it he starts getting a little restless with the planning

i think also he’d be a super groomzilla when you’re like two weeks away from the date… he’s worried more about preparations than you are 😭 ‘baby it’s okay, we’ll have everything taken care of!’

his parents and grandparents will likely contribute to a majority of the wedding, even if you two refuse… but this gives the selfish part of you lots more room for spending hehehehe

especially if his grandparents like you a lot, oh my gosh you’d better know that they’d give you a fat check or stack of money as your wedding gift 🫣 ‘benvenuto in famiglia!’ and you’re just burning with excitement omgomg

also he spends so much time on his vows :( he’s nearly bringing you to tears and his mother just cannot keep herself together … of course your maid of honor is on the brink of tears too cuz she has to give her best friend away

we know luigi has an incredible sense of humor as well, and i saw something on pinterest that said they wanted their wedding/reception to be like a scene from the office, and i’m certain that if he was into shows like that then you’d have a room where people go in and gossip or talk to the ‘viewers’ (you two) and there’d be lots of looking at the camera/breaking the fourth wall or zooming in on people like his best man side eyeing the camera LMFAOOO

after the wedding, he waits a few days before you go on your honeymoon because he wants nothing more than to slut you out and be able to call you his wife that night ;)

“my pretty wife, look at you, baby. doing so good for your husband, aren’t you?” the way he speaks to you is like a sin, as if you’re doing something you aren’t supposed to. you’re just so overwhelmed with all these new phrases that you can’t do anything but babble ‘mhm’ and ‘fuck!’

“you gonna let me cum inside? hmmm? gonna let me breed my wife?” he huskily asks, no longer letting you ride him at your own pace. he’s holding your hips as still as he can, eagerly thrusting his thick cock deep into you. you’re both sweating and moaning into each others ears, and he really doesn’t care if you ever answer him.

the moment your walls spasm around him (for the fourth time), he loses all sense and his hot cum comes in ropes and he’s stuffing you full and whispering in your ear :’) “good fucking girl” and “what a good slut my wife is” omg i’m ill

he wastes no time in convincing you to start the family early :3 we know italian people love their big families! (his mother is also pushing the fuck out of you asking ‘when am i gonna get grandkids?’ 😬)

either way, he’s absolutely the best husband and father of your child(ren) you could possibly ask for 🩷🩷

[writingonleaves]

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think. 

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it. 

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary. 

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night. 

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date 

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response. 

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere 

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!! 

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week 

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different. 

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away 

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.  

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all 

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously 

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times. 

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently. 

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that. 

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking. 

She doesn’t need to be shaking today. 

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom. 

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender. 

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous. 

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy. 

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area. 

She checks the time. On time. 

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction. 

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan. 

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense. 

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember. 

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced. 

She’s having a really good time. 

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief. 

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her. 

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”) 

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out. 

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that. 

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know. 

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful. 

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her. 

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that. 

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums. 

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly. 

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps. 

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations. 

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to. 

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories. 

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely. 

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better. 

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink. 

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”) 

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him. 

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed. 

And he did. 

Huh.

*****  

The next night, she’s nervous. 

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans. 

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair. 

“Hey.” She says softly. 

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in. 

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road. 

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.” 

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next. 

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name. 

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view. 

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is. 

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out. 

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” 

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?” 

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.” 

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.” 

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.” 

“What makes you think I want casual?” 

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.” 

“You think I’m hot?” 

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.” 

“You can’t? Why not?” 

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“All in?” 

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it. 

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.  

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?” 

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now. 

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted. 

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

[nookisms]

Alright I'll try to explain this. Our belief on life after death is called the plan of salvation. (Well life after death is the second half, but we need the ENTIRE thing.)

There's this popular post going around with this diagram of the plan of salvation on it:

This diagram is 1. Really complicated looking. 2. Missing a few steps.

So let's use a simpler one:

(Sorry I don't know why it's so blurry.)

Let's start at the beginning with premortal existence. This is actually important, because it answers one of your questions! Heavenly Father asks everyone who will fulfill his plan, Satan says that he will have everyone forced to follow him and Jesus says everyone will be allowed agency (Moses 4:1-3). There's a war in heaven and Satan and a third of the angels are cast out. (Revelation 12:4, 7-9)

This third is the Sons of Perdition, and they're trapped in Outer Darkness. (We'll get to the ones that were cast out to be Sons of Perdition later.)

Next step that's relevant to your questions is the Spirit World, and Spirit Prison. (D&C 138:11-37, but the entire chapter is about the Spirit World) Yes, there's a difference between the sides, as you pointed out, but I've always believed that they're not too different. The only major difference is who can interact with Jesus. It's for spiritual missionaries to teach those in Spirit Prison about the gospel and stuff while those of us who are alive can do their ordinances. If they accept the gospel, yippee! If they don't, oh well. Agency is the most important thing we own! I guess that's just reiterating your point, but we don't really know much about the spirit world.

Now we're into the major part, resurrection and final judgement. This is where we're gonna talk about the few people that were alive but were cast out to be Sons of Perdition. The reason the Sons of Perdition from premortal existence were cast out were because they saw the face of God and turned their back on him. The ones who were alive and cast out saw his face then turned around and said there was no god. Imagine someone seeing you face-to-face then they tell their friends you don't exist. That's a no go with Heavenly Father. :) Sorry you're going to the forever box. Yeah, it's not a perfectly happy ending, but it's not going to happen to me or you. It's only going to happen to religious leaders or the like.

With the kingdoms, it's a much happier story. People from the higher kingdoms can visit people in the lower kingdoms, so you won't ever be separated from your friends and family. The telestial kingdom is the lowest, and I can't remember the verse and I wouldn't ever be able to find it, but I remember that somewhere it says that it will be better there than it is here.

Uh... I don't have a good way to end this. Feel free to ask clarifying questions?

seeing people discussing the concept of hell and how cruel the idea of eternal punishment is like, wow! i know this belief system you would love if not for your knee-jerk reaction against its name

[lostinlovingrevery]

Van's Valentines - Heartbreaker

70s DOFP! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: My first Valentines-themed fic! It came out more angsty than planned... All my Valentines fics are gonna be themed around these cute lil Valentine cards that I found through Pinterest!

Plot: He has moved in and out of your life for the last two years, you love him, but you're not sure if you can let him in again...

Warnings: Angst, but a happy ending! Logans a menace, reader is described as a waitress, with some backstory

Word Count: 2168

“Hey pretty girl.”

You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice. Trouble. 

Logan Howlett. The menace of your life. The sole reason you have not been able to move on with yourself, to find someone else that you could fall madly in love with. He was the devil incarnate. A son of a bitch who’s made you cry more than you care to admit. 

You met him a little over two years ago. He walked into your small family restaurant. A little restaurant your grandfather started when he was about your age. You were just a waitress when Logan showed up. Handsome man who sauntered into the building with arrogance and snug jeans. He (unfortunately) charmed you off your feet. 

The next month you were in bliss. Until he decided to leave.

He told you it wasn’t you. It was him. That he wasn’t a homebody, that he needed to go out there. See the world. Sticking around just wasn’t him. You didn’t have a choice but to accept that and move on. You may have shed a few tears, missing the warmth of him in your bed, the sound of his voice when he came in to visit you at work, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the world that mattered. Nevertheless, you moved on. It was only a month you were together anyway, right? You had college and work to focus on. There’s other fish in the sea.

Then he came back.

Then he would leave again.

And he would come back again.

Every single time you accepted him into your arms like a fool, he would kiss you and you’d melt under his warm and timber voice, calling you baby, and sweetheart. Then you’d watch him leave again, tears falling down you cheeks as you inevitably began to wonder, why won’t he stay?

Even so, you never let him see the tears. You didn’t want him to know the power he held over you. Even if you both knew that you should’ve stopped opening your arms to him by the third time he showed up. It effectively ruined your love life. You couldn’t date any man without comparing the poor schmuck to Logan in more ways than one. Your heart felt wrong when you finally kissed the jock from your old high school you had a huge crush on during your high school years. You turned down the cute and very sweet new guy with pretty blue eyes who moved in town purely because you knew Logan was going to show up again- and you were right. 

Your grandfather told you once that your soul knew when it met it’s other half. He would tell you that there was strings that tied two people together and no matter how far you strayed from each other- you’ll meet again. You wondered often if that was the case with Logan...Now you're not too sure.

Now it’s been over two years since Logan came in and out of your life. The restaurant you worked in was now yours after the loss of your dear grandfather. The man who’s raised you and made you the person you were today. You dropped out of college when he died, taking over his legacy to the small town you were born in. You took pride in the restaurant, and everyone knew your name and respected you. It didn’t mean that you sometimes didn’t daydream about seeing the world, like Logan does.

It was Valentines day, and you were finishing putting up the pretty heart decorations, stringing along the ceiling and counters. Amongst many other little decorations that you had placed on various counter tops. The local radio station playing various cheesy love songs over the speaker. Despite having your heart broken by him more times than you care to remember. You were still a big romantic, and Valentines was your favorite holiday. Even if you believed you would be spending it alone. 

You didn’t turn around immediately to the sound of his voice. Your mind filled with irritation. 

Why did he have to show up today of all days? At this point you believed he must get off on causing you heartbreak.

You brushed your hands together, adjusted your apron, letting out a hard sigh and turned around, curses prepared on your tongue as you were about to finally tell him to get out of your life for good. Only it died back on your tongue as you saw him.

“Logan?” You blinked in surprise.

He was standing there, looking nicer than you’ve ever seen him. He always looked good, not one to make a fashion statement yet somehow sported the best looks you could see on a man. A clean button up shirt, tucked into smooth dark blue jeans- of course his classic belt with the almost comedically large designed buckle; It was the shape of a heart. His usual worn brown leather jacket that he would drape over you when he’d walk you back home, or when you sat on the back of his pickup and the sun would set, leaving a chill in the air. His hair was slicked back, his usual scruffy beard and mutton chops trimmed and cleaned up. He was sporting sunglasses that he took off, tucking into his shirt, as you took him in- as well as the gifts he was holding.  

He was holding a huge bouquet of red roses in one arm. The other was a big heart shaped box that you presumed held chocolates. 

He smiled- not his usual cocky smirk, it was something soft and genuine. Like the smile you seen your grandfather give your grandmother. He stepped forward. 

“Happy Valentines day baby.” He says, handing you the bouquet, which was so big you needed both arms to cradle it carefully. The aroma of the roses wafted to your nose, and you closed your eyes, taking a big sniff. “I thought you’d like em.”

“I…” You opened your mouth and shut them, looking back up at him with wide eyes, still slightly shocked. You looked into his eyes, the eyes that always made your knees weak.

“Had to get my girl something special for her favorite holiday, hm?” He smiled. 

You looked down at the roses,your heart fluttering at the sound of him calling you his girl. For a moment, you forgot about your irritation, your constant heartbreak. The fact that you thought about him all the time, wondering if he was okay. You have filled yourself with jealousy, jealousy of his lifestyle, jealousy of the girls who probably captured his attention somewhere else. Your heart sank. What are you doing? You’re letting him do it again! 

“Thank you.” You say, your tone firm. “I can’t take these though.”

He blinked in surprise, his smile dropping. “They’re for you.” He states, looking down at them. 

You sighed, moving to set them down on the counter, careful so that the roses don’t get crushed. “We can’t keep doing this Logan.”

“Doing what?”

Your brows creased angrily, a small scoff escaping you. “What? Are you serious? This!” Your voice pitched higher, and he blinked in surprise at your sudden outburst. “You show up, acting like you actually care about me and then leave!” Your hand flew in the air, motioning to him. He shook his head at your comment. You never showed him any anger when he came back, always happy, open arms, and a sweet kiss. A lovesick expression on your face as he’d tell you new stories of his adventures, completely forgetting of how he made you felt when he left. 

“I do care about you.” His voice was low, as his eyes looked down at you in an expression that looked confused. “How could you think I don’t?” 

You blinked in disbelief. How could he care about you? He shows up into your life, he treats you like you’re so important, that he could even….but he leaves. He always leaves. He never looks back. It didn’t matter if you begged him to stay a few more days, for one more kiss. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to move on with your life.

Shaking your head. “You should go Logan. Find some other girl to break the heart of.” You say, bitterness in your tone. There was a shakiness in your voice you attempted to hide. “The flowers are beautiful but I can’t…” You looked away from him, crossing your arms around you. You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to go.

He stepped closer. “You’re telling me to go?”

You nodded, not looking at him. A beat passed, and a hand came up, cupping your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears that you attempted to blink away- refusing to let him see the emotion on your face. 

The way he looked down at you almost made you burst into tears right then. A soft smile came across his face. 

“I’m sorry baby.” He says softly. His hand cupped your cheek, bringing his other hand to cup your face completely. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s my fault. I just couldn’t deal with how you made me feel.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m a huge asshole. I know.” He says softly. “I ain’t got no right. You don’t deserve it.” He continues. “I left that first time cause I knew that I…” He trailed off, looking at you with pressed lips. Like he was afraid to say what he wanted to say. 

“What?” You ask, your heart starting to beat faster. “Logan….”

“I kept coming back because I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was selfish I know.” His thumb rubbed softly across your cheek. Your hands, shakily reached up to rest on his hips. “Every time I left I couldn’t stop thinking about some asshole taking you. Someone who didn’t know how to make you laugh, or make you feel good like I know how.” He leaned forward, his forehead pressed to yours. “I missed you every single goddamn time. Thought about you every night. It drives me crazy. You drive me crazy.” 

You let out a small scoff, a small shake of your head. “Look who’s talking..” You mutter. He grinned. 

“I want you.” He says. “It took me some time to accept that. It terrifies me because there’s still some things you don’t know about me. I know it’s shitty. Don’t make me go away. No more running. You and me. We can make it work.” 

You blinked in surprise. “R-really? Logan I-”

“Be my Valentine?” He grinned. A small snort escaped you at the cheesiness of him. 

“Seriously?” You asked. You were still in disbelief. The way he just changed from your outburst. Was he serious? Or was he playing you like a fiddle again?

“Whatever you want. I could take you away from here, go on those adventures you always wanted to go on. I’ll take you New York, to Vegas, hell- I’ll even take you to my hometown in Canada.” He takes a breath. “If you want, after…We’ll come back here. Settle down. Anything you want. I’ll do it.” 

The determination of his face took you aback. Logan was always passionate yes, but he was casual about his passion, he’d pushed away whenever you brought up your relationship, what you meant to each other. Then later at night, in the heat of passion, he’d whisper sweet things in your ear- things he felt about you. You were never sure if it was true or he just said it, simply lost in the moment. You never knew what he was thinking or feeling. He wouldn’t tell you.

“I’ll be here for you. Just let me.” 

You thought back to the times he was here. They were some of your happiest memories. He did always know how to make you laugh. He knew what made you feel good. He knew what to say when you were stressed. He knew your deepest secrets. 

He was there when you lost your grandfather, somehow showing up that day after you found him. He stayed with you throughout the process. At the time, you thought he’d leave almost immediately. You were grieving, were in no mood for flings or flirting but he held your hand the entire way. It was actually the longest he ever stayed. Nearly 3 months. He held you when you cried. Supported you when you quit college. Even lent a hand at the restaurant. You couldn’t even be mad when he told you he had to leave. You were happy to just have someone who was there for you. 

Your grandfather always liked him. 

“Okay.” You smiled, leaning into him. You couldn’t believe yourself. Moments ago you were ready to cuss him out, tell him to get out of your life. Within minutes he made you fold. “We’ll make it work.”

He really was the devil.

[1vy-ofthevall3y]

warning: toxic! relationship, chishiya - fem!reader, childhood sweethearts relationship, non-borderland, slightly ooc chishiya, possessiveness, brief mention of yandere behavior (him).

idea reference: Thirst - 2009. Scene: Slip into his shoes.

summary: you are his alone.

a/n: may write a full one about this kind but in borderland au. and i'm back, hi.

Back when you were kids, he watched over you, like you're his little sister, of course not blood related, it's just that your families knew each other very well. His family didn't care much about him, but whenever he was sent to your house, your parents always welcomed him as if he were a member of the family. So, he considers that place as a second home, a place where he can at least feel a little love. And in return, in a quiet way, he cares for you, a lot. A few years older than you, and he is more mature, your parents also entrust you to him, and gradually, he develops feelings for you, the person he should have only considered as his reluctant little sister, now, you're grown up, perhaps, he can't look back at you as the little one of the past anymore, but as the person he love and must have, because only you can understand and accept him for who he is, as long as you belong to him, he will pamper you to the fullest, give you everything. Money? No problem, do he needs to talk about it? Love? Oh, much more than those guys out there who have their crush on you. Everything he has belongs to you, and you must belong to him, he told it to himself many years ago.

What's wrong with wanting to let you know how much he loves you? It's just that he's quite protective and possessive of you, why can't you see his feelings? Where's the girl who adores him so much back then? Now you're ran out of his house, which is fine, you're not far away yet, the place he bought to let you stay is pretty quiet and deserted, and spacious, easy for him to finds you and keeps you company with other things you want.

Look at you, you want to leave so quickly that you haven't even put on any shoes? Yet you're still wearing the white nightgown that he bought especially just for you, just for himself to enjoy when you wear it. not the cheap one as other guys buy for their girls. You had your own fun, now he just needs to take you back to where you belong. Although his body doesn't look as muscular as others, he is still strong. When he caught up on you from behind, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up. He heard your gasp and panting from running, mentally taking note to himself to not let you feel unsafe with him like this, he has to put up a plan to get your trust back. Taking off his shoes, lowering you down as he slips your bare feet into them. Now let's get this little bunny back in its place.

'Enough joy, darling. Let's go home, it's cold out here.'

___

© 02/02/2025 [ @1vy-ofthevall3y ]

[quarterlifekitty]

wifey here again with stepdad!Nik, so I think SD would insist on finishing college since she only has like a year left anyway and because she feels like she'll be able to get a job easier with a degree, she doesn't wanna be a burden. Nikolai ofc lets her finish college, it keeps her busy while at home, settling in nicely to their house. He takes care of her every need, and slowly starts to convince her that she doesn't owe him anything, she's his wife now, or soon to be at the very least. All she needs to do is stay home and worry about their little one. Anytime she has doubts about how much he wants her and wants to provide for her she gets reminded thoroughly. It's when SD's bump is getting noticeable that Nik really steps it up. "What if we both miss the important moments?" and SD eventually is like "yeah, okay, but if it ever becomes a burden I'll get a job" and Nik is real proud of himself. SD also becomes very needy, in just the way Nik loves, she wants to be with him as much as possible and needs help a lot because hormones are fucking with her. And she definitely thanks him plenty for his help whenever she can. Bonus NikPrice x SD reader John decides to visit Nik and his new bird since on their last mission Nikolai wouldn't shut up about her and he immediately gets why when he sees SD, she's so sweet and nurturing and she looks gorgeous all round with Nik's kid, stays a few nights and gets drunk one night and jokingly (sorta) tells Nik he'd love to put the next one in her and Nikolai just hums with a smile "why not?" and reader is suddenly being flirted with by her fiance/husband's friend. Is real worried about it cause she likes it and guility goes to Nik who is 1. Very pleased by her honesty and 2. reassures her and tells her that he's okay with it if she is. (Totally wasn't his plan to get his two favorite people together so he could have them both, nope, that's totally not why he raved about her to John and not one other soul. Mmhm)

Also im really sorry if once again this doesn't make sense, stress has got me by a chokehold lately and its making my brain bad lol

Ooooooh wifey you are killing me. Isn’t that the perfect solution, though? You’re so worried about being a burden, let’s bring in another source of income!!

You know. Maybe it’s kinda degrading. But I totally imagine Nik comes up with little tasks for her. Let’s be real, it’s so easy— he saw what her mother was like, he can see how starved she is for approval, it practically blinds her. Things like “I want us to get a new car with some more space before the baby comes— can you research what models are best for family? You have a better mind for things like that than me,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re practically wagging your tail with excitement— and you just look so happy when you present all of your work and he seems so pleased with you.

Also, in a bit of darker move, I can imagine if you’re not as into John as all that— they come up with a story. They say that John wants to have a baby of his own, but he’s not married, and he wants to have a kid before he’s too old and his career gets in the way of romance. So he would love for you to be like a surrogate for him. You’ve done so well with this first pregnancy, and you’re still so young— plus! John would be willing to pay, so it’d be like you’ve got your own income to help out!

The only thing is that John believes in natural conception. And he wants to live with you both during the pregnancy to help out. And he doesn’t actually plan on leaving once you have his kid. And Nik knows how sensitive and caring you are— when you confess to him your doubts about giving the baby up for good once it’s born, he comforts you. Of course he’ll talk to John about it, milaya, he’s sure they can come to an agreement.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

the reader has each time that a member of her family tries to create a bond with her:I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you I won't wait for you. I hate you.

Yum, good soup!

They'll do anything to spend time with him. Bruce has never watched anime in his life, but you love *Ouran High School Host Club* and *Soul Eater*. With no choice, you watch with him, only for him to ask fifty or more questions. And you always end up leaving him behind in the dust. But he's trying; you're still his baby, even if you side with him like that.

Dick always wanted to help you out with your like a big brother should, showing you the way, but you growl like a wild animal if he gets close to curls. Sure, you let him put growth oil in your cornrows, but that's all he'll ever do. You avoid that man like he has cheese touch.

Jason hasn't been a teen in forever, maybe reading a comic or two and bonding with you about how stupid comics draw women or how ugly the super-realistic style is, just for readers to roll their eyes every time he speaks. Why is he talking to me? Come on, laugh at his jokes; he knows you, he's funny. Come in and giggle!

Tim, you both are nerds. Why don’t you guys play some D&D? "Nah, I have my own party." Tekken 8? Nah, you prefer MK. Come on, just hang out with him! Geeks stick together, but for some reason, you’d rather play with random online players. He’s literally the superior player, and he’s way cooler and funnier, so don’t ditch him for your friends—he's a better rival!

Damian, please, oh, please let him hang out with you. Let him be a little brother; let him ride on your back. Let him play video games with you. Let him come to your room when you have a night in, but you refuse; you blow him off like the plague. Don’t tell him you’re not free—he tracked your schedule!

Stephanie, let's go shopping, paint each other's nails, talk about our crazy crushes, go shopping, and max out Bruce's cards. Oh, you're busy? That's cool. Wait, all your friends are hanging out together, and you're going to Chuck E. Cheese? Why don't you let her join? Oh, you guys were planning this and you don't have an extra space? Maybe next time you'll spend time with your favorite gal pal.

Cass will psychoanalyze all the shonen you've ever watched. Even if it's unrealistic and people don't scream for 15 minutes and suddenly get powerful in the show. Oh, Kengan Ashura! Tell her about the lore and all the fighters; please talk to her about it. She'll pose like the fighters and recreate the moves for you. Come on, just hang out with her. She won't talk, or she'll talk your ear off, but your face of indifference tells her you really don't care; you'd rather watch something else. Fine, Cass will watch it with you.

Duke, come chill with him. Sure, you guys have only had two conversations, and so what? You can't have more? Listen to Kendrick with him; why don't you both bond over not liking and hating on Drake? Schoolboy Q shit. He'll even play Doechii's Chromakopia is out. Let's rap to Sticky. You don't fuck with that? Oh, it's cool; he'll listen to whatever you like. He'll do whatever you like! You guys can watch Boondocks together and make random references that only you two understand. Let him give you a retwist. Let him be your brother, but you'd rather hang out with some loser from your school? What's that about?

[shortbcofkoffee]

CW: Cursing, child abuse via parentification

Bruce didn’t cry. He never cried. Bruce whined and sulked, but he never cried. Tim hated it when Bruce whined and sulked. He hated when Bruce acted like a kicked puppy because he had to take care of him. Tim thinks Alfred is happy he doesn’t have to do it anymore. Bruce is well into his 40s; he shouldn’t need this. Either way, Tim is closing Bruce’s bedroom door behind him and turning to the man in bed.

“Alfred wants you to come to dinner.” Tim sits on the foot of the bed, placing a hand on Bruce’s calf. The man is facing away from him, lying down but not pretending to sleep.

“I’m fine.”

Tim sucks his teeth and furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce shrugs and curls into himself. 

Tim purses his lips. “C’mon, chum. You can tell me.” Tim swallows and his stomach twists. He tells himself that it feels numb on his lips. He’d says he’s long past feeling gross, disgusted with himself, as he gently runs his thumb back and forth over Bruce’s calf. Bruce needs this, he reminds himself. He needs me.

“It’s nothing, I just-... It’s nothing.”

Tim frowned, Bruce wasn’t usually one to share but still. “Is it a case?” He knew Jason had mentioned one. Something about a seemingly normal family leaving their kid with the Falcones before the parents were murdered. It wasn’t the type of thing to stress Bruce out but it was the only one Tim could think of. Bruce didn’t answer. “Okay, well, you don’t need to tell me. But let's get some food in you, yeah?”

Bruce shifted but made no attempt to get up. Tim sighed.

“Alright, chum, I’ll bring dinner to you. Just wait here.” Tim patted his leg and stood up.

“Thanks, Dad,” Bruce said as Tim reached the door.

His eye twitched. “Anytime.”

When he steps out of the dark bedroom, he’s Brother Tim, the Tim the rest of the Waynes like. He makes his way to the dining room where everyone is filing in. Luckily it wasn’t everyone tonight. Just Tim, Dick, Cass, Jason, and Damian. They all sat at the table in their unofficial spots. Tim usually sat between Bruce and Dick with Cass right across from him. He eyed his seat, thinking maybe he could ask Alfred to bring the plate. He wanted to sit down and eat. Dick raised an eyebrow as Tim passed his chair.

“You’re not gonna sit down?”

Tim shook his head. “I will in a minute, Bruce isn’t coming down so I’m bringing him food.”

Jason scoffed. “Why do you need to bring it, ask Alfred.”

God, he wanted to. “Alfred does enough, I’ll do it.”

He could feel their eyes as he quickly moved past them to the kitchen. Alfred is there, garnishing a casserole. The Butler meets his eyes and frowns.

“I assume Master Bruce has elected to stay in his room?”

Tim nods. “I’m gonna fix him a plate.”

Tim thinks Alfred knows because Alfred somehow knows everything. Maybe he doesn’t know how far it’s gone, but he knows. He also needs Tim, but not for himself like everyone else. He needs Tim for Bruce. 

Alfred hums. “Master Timothy, please come here. I want to show you something.” Tim stepped closer, watching as Alfred cut a perfect square out of his casserole. “Master Bruce has a very particular way he likes to be served. You’d do well to memorize it. All foods must be separated by one-third of an inch, vegetables should be opposite the meat. He drinks milk right after his water, if he plans to sleep right after dinner crush two valium pills and mix it well into his milk. If they’re fully dissolved he won’t notice the difference.”

Tim nodded along. God, this was so final. He already knew most of this but Alfred never took the time to actually teach him. It took the butler less than a minute to finish Bruce’s plate, he placed it on a tray with two glasses of milk and water. He handed Tim the tray and sent him on his way.

Tim felt eyes on him again as he passed back through the dining room. There’s a pang of anxiety in his chest telling him they know, they know. He doesn’t know what he’d do if they did. They’d be disgusted, disgusted with Tim for going along with this for so long. They’d think he’s a freak, that somehow he enjoys this. Tim doesn’t know how he’d handle it. 

The walk to Bruce’s room was quiet, the whole manor was quiet. Tim had mixed feelings about long, quiet halls. It meant he was alone; either for the moment or months on end. It was lonely but there was a freedom in that emptiness. He didn’t have responsibilities, he could do whatever, whenever, however. No one was watching him, he didn’t need to be anyone. Tim took a deep breath in. As long as he was in this hallway, he’d be fine. Unfortunately, he was only a few yards from Bruce’s door.

He balanced the tray in one hand and opened the door with the other.

“I’m coming in, chum.”

Bruce turned over in his bed and sat up. “What did Alfred make?”

“Hamburger casserole, broccoli, and turmeric rice. If you want dessert, though, you’ll have to come downstairs.” Tim placed the tray on Bruce’s lap. “Spend time with your kids.”

Bruce stared blankly at his food. “What’s for dessert?”

“Tiramisu, I think. Your favorite.”

Bruce nodded and started to eat. 

Tim ruffled his hair, letting Bruce lean into his touch for a moment. It’s… a lot. “Come down when you’re ready.”

Tim was two steps from the door when Bruce spoke again.

“Wait. Dad…”

Tim turned around and shifted his weight onto one leg. “What’s up, bud?”

Bruce didn’t meet his eyes and poked the food. “Recently I was made aware of… a situation.”

“Uh-huh.” Tim walked back to the bed next to Bruce.

“Jason has let me know about a development in a cold case involving the Falcones.” So he was right. “There was a child involved. I found him, he’s… traumatized. He saw them kill his parents, he told me and I just- I… He doesn’t want to leave the Falcones. He told me he loved it there, they were nice to him. And I just left him. He wouldn’t come with me, he fought so much, I left him.” 

Tim pouted. “I’m sorry that happened, bud. You think you’ll go back for him?”

Bruce leaned onto Tim’s shoulder. “Jason said he’d deal with it. I just wish I did some more. I could’ve, I can, I just. It’d be encroaching on Jason’s territory. Where they’re keeping him. I should do something. I can.”

Tim wrapped an arm around Bruce’s shoulder and scratched his scalp. It felt weird, warm. Bruce had probably washed it earlier, poorly, but at least it was washed. “Yeah, Jason has been on edge with you hasn’t he?” Bruce nodded. “It’ll be alright, bud. Jason can handle this, and besides, this case could be a lot for you. I think you should sit this one out instead of beating yourself up about it.” Tim unwrapped his arm. “Okay?”

“Alright.”

“Good. I’m gonna go eat dinner, you can come down for dessert.”

Tim finally got away, slipping off the bed and out the door. When Tim steps outside the room again and walks a few feet before leaning against the wall. He pressed his forehead against the red wallpaper and placed a hand over his stomach. He doesn’t want to touch anyone ever again. His stomach is churning with that familiar weird feeling. It’d go away soon, a few minutes to a few days, but it’d go away. This wasn’t weird. This isn’t- Bruce needs this, he needs this. As long as Bruce needed him, Tim would be there. He couldn’t just abandon Bruce. His hand gripped his shirt and he took a deep breath. He was okay. Tim stood up straight and walked back to the dining room.

He slid back into his seat next to Dick and Bruce’s empty chair. Alfred already put his plate out, just how he liked. Tim looked around the table at the subtle differences on the other’s plates. He wondered if they noticed and if this would be his life from now on, learning the specific ways he needed to care for everyone. If it’s like that he’s happy only Bruce needs him. He was prepared for a few questions, it’d be weird if he didn’t get any. Bruce’s kids would be worried about him even if they hated to admit it.

“You’ve been fussing over the old man a bit much lately,” Jason started.

“I guess,” Tim shrugged as he began to eat. Had it been more than usual lately? It felt a little less frequent. 

“Is he okay?” Dick asked.

Tim frowned. “He’s upset about a case.” He nodded at Jason. “One of yours, actually. About the kid with the Falcones. He’s eating himself up because he wants to help the kid but he doesn’t want to piss you off. I told him you could handle it.”

“Thank God,” Jason huffed. “That asshole keeps straining my alliances every time he steps foot in the alley.”

“How old is the kid? We don’t need him trying to take another kid in,” Dick joked.

That seemed to satisfy the table as they all went back to eating and their individual conversations. Mainly small talk and meaningless arguments, Tim wanted to contribute but he still felt weird. He felt awful. The food didn't settle the churning in his stomach, unfortunately, the feeling was here to stay. Begrudgingly, his thoughts wandered back to Bruce. What would he need next? When? He could feel the man’s hair on his hand still. It was warm and a little greasy from product that hadn't been washed out. Tim roughly swallowed. He didn't like this feeling. He should be grateful, if it wasn't for this he wouldn't be needed here. Of course, he was CEO of Wayne Enterprises but his professional relationships weren't fulfilling enough to replace personal ones. He needed Bruce to feel useful. Bruce needed him to feel better. It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t disgusting. Tim was okay with it.

He didn't want to finish his dinner. He didn't want to be here when Bruce came down for dessert. Oh God, he’ll probably have to put him to bed if he’s still upset after dinner. He stood with his only half-empty plate and started to the kitchen. Cass grabbed the back of his shirt and tapped him twice, asking where he was going.

“Ah, I'm done eating. Wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

Cass frowned but waved him off but Dick stopped him too. 

“Hold on, Timmy, dude, you barely ate.”

“I'm not hungry,” he reiterated. “And besides, I have a meeting with some shareholders tomorrow, I need to prepare.” A lie so quick it surprised even him. “Do you want my food?”

Before Dick could answer Damian slammed a hand on the table. “Drake! Give me your vegetables!”

Tim quickly dumped his food on Damian's plate and walked to the kitchen. Alfred was still there, preparing dessert, and to Tim’s luck, it was actually Tiramisu. So now he didn’t accidentally lie to Bruce. 

“Should I throw this out or keep the leftovers?” He asked Alfred.

The old man looked between him and the plate a few times. “You only ate one thing.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Just place it on the counter, I’ll deal with it.”

Tim muttered a thanks as he did and left. Unfortunately, always unfortunate for Tim Drake-Wayne, Bruce was there. Smiling at his kids, carrying his tray to the kitchen. Tim didn’t have to look closely at Bruce anymore. Every line crinkle was there whether he liked it or not. He could read Bruce’s face better than anyone he knew and he hated it. Bruce’s smile faltered a little when he was Tim but no one seemed to notice. It wasn’t weird , he reminded himself. He brushed past Tim with a “hey.” The interaction was short and impersonal but it didn’t make the feeling go away. Tim left the dining room. Bruce would probably go to the cave tonight, to look over whatever he’s working on. By tomorrow morning only Dick would be back in Bludhaven and Cass and Jason would be back at their apartments. Tim hoped he wouldn’t have to scold Bruce for staying up too late. 

Tim’s lungs felt light like the air was barely tickling them. He wanted to sleep, he’d set an alarm for three and if Bruce was still up he’d drag him to bed. Soon enough he was in a quiet hallway again. Just alone with no one watching. He jumped as high as possible, fingers barely touching the high ceiling. Tim liked being alone for these small bits of time when he felt like this. It gave him just a little release when he did little things with no one else around. He jumped again. He wants to go on patrol. He wants to jump from building to building and breathe in the night air. He should do it soon, tomorrow maybe.

Tim reached his room, set his alarm for three, and let himself relax into his pillow. Bruce has been better lately, this case was gonna be a huge setback, especially if it involved Jason. Tim hated to say it because it wasn’t true but every problem he had with Bruce was because of Jason. Tim knew it wasn’t fair to blame him, he had no stake in how Bruce would mourn him, but if he never died in the first place… That was so unfair. It made Tim feel disgusting for even thinking that. Bruce wasn’t entirely to blame either, no one is how they mourn. Tim took the role of caretaker quickly and easily, it was a lot, especially for a thirteen-year-old, but Tim could take it. Tim could take everything. He did and will.

Tim didn't know when he fell asleep or if he had a dream but the alarm clock on his bedside table was screaming. Tim groggily rolled over and hit it off. If Bruce wasn't in the cave Tim could go back to sleep sooner. If he was, Tim would have to drag him to bed. Bruce needed as much sleep as possible, the holidays were coming up and that always put Batman on overtime. Tim got out of bed and dragged himself over to Bruce’s room, but of course, he wasn't there. Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He found his way down to the cave and followed the sound of typing to the Batcomputer. 

“It's late.” Tim came up behind Bruce.

“I'm working.”

“And you'll have time to work tomorrow. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you wake up.” He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “C'mon let's get you to bed.” 

Bruce made no effort to move and Tim leaned on his shoulder. 

“I’ll go to bed soon.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, bud, I’m not going to sleep until you do. And I’m tired.”

“No one is asking you to do that.”

“I know you’re tired too. You’re not at your best when you’re tired, you could slip up and miss something.”

“I won’t. I slept yesterday, I’ll be fine.”

Fair, Bruce could easily stay awake for three to four days without shutting down. Unfortunately, with the aforementioned holidays, sleep would be few and far between. “Yeah, well I’m not asking. We’re going to bed.” Tim looked up at the screen. “What are you even working on?”

“I told you. The case with the Falcone kid. I haven’t updated the report yet.”

“I thought I told you to let Jason deal with it.”

“I can help.”

“He doesn’t want your help.” 

Bruce paused his typing for a moment before resuming. “Did he tell you that?”

“I told him that I told you to let him deal with it. He didn’t thank me but he was appreciative.” Tim pulled away from Bruce’s shoulder making the man twitch. “Besides, I don’t want you working this case. It won’t be good for you.”

Bruce just grunted, an unintelligible one that meant he was acknowledging but ultimately ignoring you. It’s like a toddler throwing a quiet tantrum.

“You know I’m right. C’mon, chum, let’s go to bed,” he tried again. The man didn’t answer. “Okay?” He said with more force. Bruce silently saved the report he was working on and logged off. “Thank you. See that wasn’t so hard.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Bruce grumbled. 

“Mm-hm.” Tim held out a hand and pulled Bruce from his chair.

Bruce held onto his hand as they started to walk, he seemed like he needed it. He didn’t let go until they were halfway to his room. Bruce, for someone who craved it so much, hated physical affection. He only accepted it from certain people. Alfred was one since he raised him practically by himself. His kids, obviously, he’d never turn down a hug from one of them, he actually hoped for it. Though Tim had never personally seen it, according to others Bruce didn’t seem to mind being touched by Clark Kent. Lastly, there was Tim. Tim was the only person Bruce reached out to first for affection. Usually just a hand on his shoulder or arm but sometimes Bruce wanted a hug or a hand to hold. It was always over quicker than it happened when Bruce acted first. 

Once he got Bruce to his room it was 3:14. He could still get a good amount of sleep and still be good in the morning. He yawned as he walked the dark halls back to his room. Sleep would be good, Bruce was exhausting. TIm just wanted to melt into his pillow and disappear forever. Tim jumped, almost yelped as he turned a corner and came face to face with a mop of white and black hair. Jason stared at him quietlywith his jaw locked in anger. Neither of them spoke but Jason nodded in the direction of the library. Jason was here, why was he here? Tim hadn’t noticed him come in so it must’ve been when he was dealing with Bruce. 

Oh, God, had he seen him with Bruce? The seeing wasn’t the hard part Tim knew how to lie and deflect. He could say that he asked Bruce to hold hands. It wouldn’t explain why it looked like he was guiding Bruce but it was a start. The hearing was the bad part. If Jason had heard the end of their conversation Tim doesn’t know. An inside joke maybe? That was the only thing Tim could think of at the moment. He bit his lip nervously. The disgusting feeling was back. His hands and feet felt heavy. Tim was tired, he just wanted to sleep.

“Why are you here?” He asked nervously.

“Left my commlink in the cave. Came back to get it,” Jason said.

“Ah.”

So he was in the cave. When they entered the library Jason sat down in one of the lounge chairs and motioned for Tim to sit across from him.

“The fuck was that?” Jason started.

“What was what?”

Jason leaned forward and sighed. “Okay. Are you… okay?” He asked through gritted teeth.

The question felt weird coming from Jason. “Fine. Why?”

“I heard you talking to Bruce.”

Tim is pretty sure all the color left in his face drains. He’s pretty sure Jason noticed it too. “Oh.”

“So are you okay?”

Tim pinched his fingertip with the opposite hand. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just- just forget what you heard, okay? It’s nothing weird, just an inside joke, y’know?” Tim feels a little stupid for deflecting immediately. He could’ve played it off better, but the mental exhaustion was getting to him.

“It didn’t sound like a joke.”

Tim pinched harder, sinking his nails into his skin. “Then you misread the situation.”

Jason leaned back, splaying his arms over the back of the chair. “Alright humor me. What’s the joke then.”

“If I explained it it wouldn’t be very “inside” anymore. It’s private.”

“Kay, so how long have you and him had this private “joke.””

Tim grimaced. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not. Just answer.”

Tim scoffed. “Why do you care? It’s a joke me and Bruce have, that’s it.”

“Why do I-?! Why do I care?! You know I kill abusers?”

Tim took a deep breath in and rolled his eyes. “Don’t call it abuse just because you think it’s weird. I get it, you don’t buy the joke thing but that’s all it is.”

Jason was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh my God, is that why he listens to you? Because you have this dad thing going on?”

Tim’s stomach churned. God, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to run away and hide under his cover until this was all over. “Nothing’s going on, leave it alone.”

“Listen, I’m trying to help you.”

Jason? Help Tim? When he was the reason for this in the first place? Tim couldn’t help but smile at the irony. “Yeah right. I don’t need any help, it’s fine. If it makes you feel better, I started it, not Bruce.”

“So, what, you started calling Bruce “ chum” and shit.” Tim almost gagged. “And he just went along with it?”

“It’s complicated, okay? Bruce needs someone to deal with him.”

“Why not Alfred? That’s literally his job.”

“It’s different-”

“Is it? Alfred’s practically raised him and I don’t see Bruce calling him dad.”

“It’s different,” Tim repeated. “You weren’t there, you don’t know.”

“Okay then explain it. I’ve got all night.”

Tim clenched his jaw and glared at Jason. “I’m going to bed.” He started to stand but a throwing knife stuck into the bookshelf behind him, barely missing his head.

“Sit. Explain.”

Tim sat back down. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“When did this start?”

“Four or five years ago.”

Jason hummed. “That’s what you meant by I wasn’t there. Alright then, why is he calling you dad?”

That one was loaded. Tim wasn’t a psychic, he couldn’t read Bruce’s mind. He only had his best guess. “He likes to be parented. Talking to him like he’s a teenager sometimes helps when you need him to do something. Like shower or eat.”

“So… you act like his dad because he’s an overgrown teenager.”

“No. He only acts like that when he’s depressed, or stressed, or wasted.”

“Bruce doesn’t drink.”

“Not when you guys are around. He used to drink himself stupid after you died. That’s also why it’s me and not Alfred. Alfred was grieving too, Bruce wasn’t something he needed to deal with.” 

“So you took Alfred’s place.”

“Only when he needed it.”

“But it never stopped. You’re still doing this weird shit just to make him feel better.”

“He still needs me. I can’t abandon him.” Tim shifted uncomfortably.

“Tim, you’re 17, Bruce isn’t your responsibility.”

“He is. I need to take care of him. You don’t understand, you don’t get how bad he needs me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. He’s grown, he doesn’t need you.”

“Well he does, okay? And I’ll do it until he stops needing me.”

“Do you think of him as your son?”

Tim was silent. He didn’t like to, it made him feel gross to say it so he’d never actually verbalized it before. “It… can make it easier.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t get you. Both of you know how fucked up this is, you kept it a secret this whole time. You’re clearly feeling shitty about it, you just never said anything. He’s not threatening you, is he?”

“He’s not threatening me, I just… He needs me. That’s all there is to it.” Tim was tired. He wanted to go to bed. “We didn’t tell anyone because we knew you would react like this. You’d think it was weird.”

“It is.”

“You’re not even making an effort to understand. You don’t get it.”

“Oh, believe me, I get it. I get all there is to get. Tim, I’m sure you know this, but I don’t like you. I think you’re a stain and you never should’ve been Robin. But I’m on your side, I’m trying to help you . Because I’m supposed to protect people like you.”

“I’m not a victim, Red Hood, I’m telling you, I’m just taking care of him.”

“You don’t need to.”

“We’re talking in circles. It’s fine if you don’t get it, just don’t tell anyone and keep it alone. Me and Bruce are fine, this has worked for years. If I left Bruce wouldn’t be able to pick himself up again. I can take care of him as long as he needs me.”

“Do you want to?”

Tim rubbed his arm. He didn’t, he liked feeling needed but he didn’t want to do this. But that’s how it was, it was how Bruce needed him. Since he couldn’t, he wouldn’t change a thing. “Yeah.” He felt disgusting.

Jason raised his hands in surrender. “Then I’ll leave it alone. But if I find out something I don’t like, I’ll act. Trust me, I will.”

Tim finally pushed himself out of the chair. “Thank you. I’m going to bed, it’s late.”

Jason stayed behind in the library leaving Tim alone in the long dark hallway. He was alone again, he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding before his chest sank again. Oh God, someone knew. Jason knew, probably the last person Tim wanted to know. Jason had called Bruce an abuser and threatened to kill him. That’s the last thing Tim needed. He wanted to sleep, he should sleep.

.

Read the rest here and read the fic that inspired it here

[goldfades]

a bengal welcome | JOE BURROW⁹ [009]

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.3k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | bengals meeting hayes for the first time!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | nothing but fluff!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting lazily on the console between you. Hayes was securely strapped into his car seat in the back, his tiny fists waving in the air like he was orchestrating a symphony.

"You sure we’ve got everything?" Joe asked, glancing at you as you double-checked the baby bag for the third time.

"Diapers, wipes, formula, bottles, extra clothes, his favorite blanket," you listed off, zipping the bag shut with a decisive tug. "Yep, I think we’re good. Unless Hayes has something catastrophic planned, but let’s pray he doesn’t."

Joe chuckled under his breath. “He’s my kid. Odds aren’t great.”

You shot him a playful glare, leaning back in your seat. “Well, let’s hope he takes after me in the ‘not causing chaos’ department.”

The spring sun streamed through the windows, the light dancing over Joe’s profile. He wore a casual hoodie and a cap pulled low, but the little flickers of excitement in his eyes gave him away. Despite his laid-back demeanor, you knew he was looking forward to this.

It wasn’t just any gathering—it was the first time Joe’s teammates would be meeting Hayes, and Ja’Marr had insisted on hosting a little welcome-baby party at his place. You could already picture the chaos waiting for you there, with half the Bengals ready to turn a simple gathering into an impromptu celebration.

“I bet Ja’Marr has some wild decorations,” you said, watching the scenery pass outside.

“Guaranteed,” Joe replied with a smirk. “He texted me a picture of a balloon arch at like 2 a.m. last night.”

You laughed, imagining Ja’Marr staying up late to perfect the setup. “Well, at least he’s taking his duties as ‘honorary uncle’ seriously.”

The drive passed quickly, and before you knew it, Joe was pulling into Ja’Marr’s driveway, which was lined with cars and a few oversized SUVs that you recognized as belonging to other players. Sure enough, there was a massive balloon arch at the entrance, spelling out Welcome Baby Hayes! in bold, glittering letters.

“Subtle,” Joe muttered, grinning as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

You glanced back at Hayes, who was wide-eyed and babbling nonsense to his stuffed tiger. “Alright, baby boy,” you said softly. “Let’s go meet Dad’s other family.”

Joe grabbed the baby bag while you carefully lifted Hayes out of his car seat, holding him close as the two of you walked up to the door. The second you stepped inside, the noise hit—a chorus of cheers and shouts greeting you like a wave.

“There he is!”

“Joey B and Baby B!”

“Look at this little guy!”

The Bengals were in full force, a mix of giant smiles, loud voices, and open arms. Ja’Marr was the first to approach, grinning ear to ear as he took in the sight of Hayes.

“Man, he’s even smaller than I thought,” Ja’Marr said, bending down slightly to get a better look. “What’s up, little guy? I’m your Uncle Ja’Marr. You’re gonna hear a lot about me.”

Hayes blinked at him, his tiny face scrunching up like he wasn’t sure how to feel about the towering man in front of him.

“Give him some space, Chase,” Tee Higgins joked, nudging Ja’Marr aside. “You’re probably scaring the poor kid.”

“Scaring him?” Ja’Marr shot back, feigning offense. “I’m the most likable guy in the room.”

You laughed, adjusting Hayes in your arms as Joe stepped in beside you, offering nods and grins to his teammates. “He’s already used to noise, trust me,” you said.

As the party got underway, the team took turns fawning over Hayes. Sam Hubbard tried to cradle him like a football, earning a sharp “don’t even think about it” from you, while Evan McPherson made Hayes giggle with a silly face. Even the usually stoic players softened around your baby, their towering frames and booming voices taking on a gentle edge.

“He’s got your baby blues,” Tyler Boyd remarked to Joe, who had settled next to you on the couch, looking proud and a little overwhelmed by all the attention.

“Yeah,” Joe said, glancing at Hayes with a faint smile. “He’s a good mix of both of us, though.”

You smiled, leaning into Joe’s side as Hayes cooed and wiggled in your lap. It was chaos, sure, but the good kind—the kind that made you feel surrounded by love and warmth.

The party buzzed on, filled with warm chatter and soft laughter, but Joe’s focus never wavered. Hayes had become the star of the show, passed around like a delicate treasure as each of Joe’s teammates clamored for a turn to hold him.

“Alright, my turn,” Tee Higgins declared, holding out his arms.

You glanced at Joe, who was standing just a few steps away, his shoulders tense as if Hayes might suddenly sprout wings and fly out of someone’s grip.

Tee chuckled. “Relax, man. I’ve got nieces and nephews. I know what I’m doing.”

Joe hesitated, his jaw tightening before he finally nodded. “Just… make sure his head’s supported.”

“Got it, Dad,�� Tee replied with a teasing grin. He carefully scooped Hayes out of your arms, holding him securely. “See? No problem.”

Joe crossed his arms, his eyes glued to Hayes like a hawk watching its prey. His lips pressed into a thin line every time Hayes wiggled or let out a tiny noise.

“You’re gonna burn a hole into Tee’s face if you keep staring like that,” you whispered to Joe, nudging him lightly.

“He’s fine,” Joe muttered, though his feet shifted as if he were ready to lunge at any moment.

Ja’Marr sidled up beside him, clapping him on the back. “Man, you’ve gotta chill. Hayes is cool. Tee’s not gonna drop him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joe replied quickly. But his body language said otherwise, every muscle taut as he watched Tee sway gently with Hayes, making goofy faces that earned a few soft coos from the baby.

As the night went on, each teammate took their turn. Evan, with his steady kicker’s hands, rocked Hayes expertly, drawing a rare smile from Joe. Even the defensive linemen, whose hands were more accustomed to crushing quarterbacks than cradling babies, handled Hayes with surprising gentleness.

Sam leaned down to whisper something to Hayes, his voice soft but gruff. “Alright, little guy. In a few years, we’ll get you in pads, yeah?”

“Over my dead body,” Joe shot back, his voice sharp enough to draw a laugh from the room.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Joe. His protectiveness wasn’t new, but seeing it in action with Hayes added a new layer to the man you already loved. There was something endearing about the way he hovered, his eyes darting from one set of hands to the next, his whole demeanor a mixture of pride and quiet panic.

Finally, Ja’Marr got his turn, holding Hayes with a confidence that rivaled Joe’s own. “See? This is how you do it,” he said, rocking Hayes like a natural.

Joe didn’t respond, but his eyes stayed locked on Hayes, his lips twitching every time the baby shifted.

“Alright, alright,” Ja’Marr teased, handing Hayes back to you. “Before Joey B has a heart attack.”

Joe exhaled audibly as Hayes was safely returned to your arms. He stepped closer, his hand brushing against Hayes’s back as if to reassure himself.

“He was fine, you know,” you said softly, smiling up at him.

“I know,” Joe murmured, his hand lingering. “But he’s… I just don’t like being too far from him.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you leaned into his side, letting Hayes settle comfortably between you.

“Welcome to fatherhood,” you said with a grin.

Joe finally relaxed, his arm draping over your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his gaze still on Hayes. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

[kwanisms]

Homecoming — k.hongjoong

After being banished to hell, Hongjoong manages to find a weak point and escapes back to the mortal realm. He only has a short time before the hounds of Hell are sent after him to bring him back and he makes the most of his time by tracking down his former servant only to find Seonghwa’s vampire curse has been broken and that he’s now happily married to the woman who destroyed everything Hongjoong built up. incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT — 14.2k ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, reincarnated reader, mentions of: marriage, food & alcohol consumption, death, pregnancy, wanting to start a family, infidelity (its complicated, mc thinks she's dreaming); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — angst, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, established relationship (Seonghwa & MC), married life; non idol au, demon au ❑ NOTES — THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE LIBRARY OF ILLUSIONS SEQUEL. IF YOU PLAN ON READING THAT SERIES AND DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED, SAVE THIS FIC FOR LAST. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS!!! THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING I WILL GIVE. This takes place after the sequel to the Library of Illusion and as such, you can’t read directly what happens before this as it’s not written yet. If you’d like to read those, you can find the masterlist for the Library of Illusion here. There’s some heavy stuff in this so read with caution. Thank you for anyone reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: there’s a lot of dirty talk without smut so watch out for that, implied oral (f receiving), implied unprotected sex (don’t), voyeurism (Hongjoong), hot tub makeout, implied hot tub sex, vaginal penetration, nipple play (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving), facefucking, deepthroating, piv sex, praise, dirty talk, degrading names (f receiving: slut, whore), mild impact play (spanking), forced cuckold (Seonghwa), somnophilia, slight dacryphilia (Joong likes it when Hwa cries), a lot of dirty talk on Joong’s part, breeding kink, cum inside, forced oral (MC is in a trance and Hongjoong forces her to give Hwa oral while he’s tied up), bondage/rope play (Seonghwa is basically bound and gagged through the whole thing up until the end), mild m × m (Hongjoong touches Seonghwa a couple times). If you don’t like this, don’t read. It’s fantasy and supposed to be a  kind of gray area. Sorry, not sorry. I think I got all the warnings but if I missed any, please let me know!

One thing Hongjoong had never been prepared for was being turned into a demon. It hadn’t been his choice, he’d been betrayed by his neighbors. His only consolation were the centuries he spent luring people to his prison, deep in the forests of the Carpathian Mountains, and collecting their souls. It had all been going well.

Until you came along.

Upon seeing you for the first time, Hongjoong didn’t know you were the reincarnation of his servant’s dead fiancée. He didn’t really care. At least, that was until you started to cause problems. He watched as you slowly uncovered the truth, learning about your past life and about the Library of Illusion, the place Hongjoong called home.

The vampire opened your eyes and when you had regained your memories from your previous life, Hongjoong watched your reunion with a mixture of fascination and irritation. It didn’t matter really, not when you were going to venture further and then he would collect your soul, just as he had done for hundreds of years already.

Only, his sight was obscured soon after you returned to Seonghwa. It was only moments later when he realized you had entered the Restricted Section, so he pushed the occurrence to the back of his mind. In the end, it wasn’t going to matter.

Oh how foolish he had been.

He gave you the same head start he’d given the others. Chased you through the maze and you managed to escape into the halls. He would give you your time, allow you to explore before he would finally descend. He managed to find and intercept you in the hallway, cut off your exit route and was surprised when you gave in so easily.

He didn’t realize you had a plan.

He still remembered the sharp sting of pain from the dagger as it pierced his chest. He remembered the incantation you hissed as you twisted the knife, white hot pain searing throughout his body, the heat spreading from the wound almost as if he’d been poisoned.

And he had. You’d coated the knife in something before driving it into him. You were quick after that, taking off further into the halls. Hongjoong dragged himself up, ignoring the pain and blood that poured out of him as he followed you, stumbling into the walls as he tried to keep up.

The poison you’d infected him with caused him to transform, the visage of his human form melting away to reveal the demon he’d become until almost none of his humanity remained and instead a lumbering, grotesque monster stood in his place.

He finally tracked you down, rounding the corner to find you weren’t alone. The vampire was with you. He had turned on him. He, the vampire, had turned on him, Hongjoong, all because of a woman. Hongjoong underestimated the strength of the love between the two which allowed the vampire to free himself from Hongjoong’s control.

Hongjoong could never have expected that the vampire would go snooping while his attention was occupied with chasing you. The vampire surprised him by reciting the same banishing incantation the priest had used on him all those years ago, pinning Hongjoong in place. Hongjoong never expected the vampire to pull the knife out and shove it back in deeper as he called Hongjoong by his demon name.

The vampire used the combination of the poison, the wound, the incantation, and the name to finish what the priests could not and banished Hongjoong back to hell, something the demon never saw coming. His fall back into hell was much like the first; blackness, fire and brimstone, and burning, but instead of the white light saving him, he broke through rock and fell into the depths of Hell.

He passed through one of the rings, landing hard onto the smooth stone floor of the second. Pain spread throughout his body, the air leaving his lungs and leaving him winded.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of the Panopticon of the Second Ring of Hell. A light blinded him as two figures approached. Hongjoong got to his feet, shielding his eyes from the bright light glaring down on him.

He squinted, looking at the two figures as they stopped at the edge of the light. “Who is that?” he called, his voice echoing around the room. He waited for them to answer, to move, but the figures did neither. Instead they stood at the edge of the light, hidden in the darkness, watching him. He could feel their eyes upon him. It made him extremely uncomfortable.

After a few more minutes of silence, The light finally lessened, instead of a bright intense light, it was a much dimmer golden glow. Hongjoong blinked, his eyes adjusting as he lowered his hand. The figures had multiplied, now standing in a circle around him still in the shadow. The same two figures from the beginning started to advance, stepping into the golden glow and Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

The figures, a man and a woman, walked forward. Dressed in black hooded cloaks, they continued forward, walking the long distance towards him. Hongjoong stood still, watching them as they advanced and took this opportunity to give them both a good once over.

The man was tall with black hair and cat-like, piercing eyes. The woman was shorter than her companion. She had doe-like eyes, silvery blonde hair, and a very youthful look. The pair stopped just before him and in unison, removed their hoods.

Hongjoong stared back and forth between the two as silence fell over the trio.

Finally, it was the woman who spoke first in a soft voice. “Welcome back, Dannarok,” she said with a warm smile. Upon hearing the name, Hongjoong recoiled slightly. The smile on the woman’s face never faltered. The man raised a brow. “Does the sound of your own name repulse you?” he asked, his voice a deeper pitch than Hongjoong’s but not so deep.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“It has been such a long time since he has heard,” the woman answered for him. Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. She was reading his mind. “Such a shame,” the man said, turning his attention back to Hongjoong. “And we gave you that name, too.”

“Why am I here?” Hongjoong asked suddenly, cutting the man off. “You’ve been banished back here,” the woman answered, her golden eyes studying him closely. “You can’t just send me back?” Hongjoong asked. “Back?” the man repeated in a questioning tone. “Back where?”

Hongjoong gestured up. “Top side,” he answered. The man and woman exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. “Send you back topside? To do what, exactly?” the man asked as he looked back at Hongjoong who stared between the man and woman, anger bubbling under his skin. Why the hell were they laughing at him? It was a reasonable request, wasn’t it?

“You had your chance up there,” the man finally said. “You were up there for hundreds of years,” the woman interjected. “Spent hundreds of years doing nothing, I might add,” the man continued. “No souls collected, no women impregnated, no murder, no maiming,” he continued. “Well,” the woman said quickly. “There were those priests,” she reminded him.

“Right, and that expedition party,” he nodded before looking back at Hongjoong. “Not nearly enough death for hundreds of years spent up there.” Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “I killed far more than that. I had thousands upon thousands of victims,” he said incredulously. “Right,” the man said, nodding. “The thousands upon thousands of souls that escaped when you were banished by a vampire and his reincarnated fiancée?”

Hongjoong’s blood began to boil. How dare they speak to him with such contempt. Such… disregard.

“The sheer volume of souls you collected was admirable,” the woman began but the man interrupted her yet again and for a split second, Hongjoong could see the annoyance on her face. “But your failure to bring them here,” the man said, his voice full of derision. “Did you forget the part where I was confined to that shell of a building in the forest in the middle of the fucking mountains?” Hongjoong snapped.

As quickly as the words left his mouth, the man moved, wrapping his fingers around Hongjoong’s throat and lifting him off the ground with ease. Hongjoong struggled against the man’s grip, clawing at his hand, the toes of his shoes scraping against the concrete floor.

“Watch your tone,” the man snarled, the voice of a thousand souls emanating from him as his red irises glowed. The woman stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm gently. “Sam,” she whispered, looking up at him with her golden, doe-like eyes. The man quickly dropped Hongjoong and stepped back, taking a deep breath and grounding himself.

“My apology, Lils,” he said softly, clearing his throat. “Won’t happen again.” The woman smiled at him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before turning to Hongjoong who was massaging his neck, glaring at the man, Sam. “My apologies, Dannarok,” the woman, Lils, said. She offered a kind hand to help him, which Hongjoong took, allowing her to pull him to his feet with surprising strength. 

“The point we are trying to make is that you spent a long time topside,” Lils said softly, keeping a hold of Hongjoong’s hand, holding it up and placing her other hand over the back of his hand. “But there isn’t much to show for it. You’re here but there’s nothing else. All those souls have been released and sent to the afterlife. Some have ended up in the different levels but many of them went… up,” she said, trailing off slightly before raising her gaze towards the ceiling.

“What if I went back and collected more souls?” Hongjoong asked softly. Lils’ eyes met his again and she smiled kindly. “Unfortunately, without anything to show for your first time up there, and with nothing binding you to the Earth, you cannot return. You would have to collect the souls again. The amount you had before but that would require hundreds of years and you don’t have that kind of trust from us.”

Hongjoong felt his stomach slowly start to churn. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m afraid you will have to stay here.” Hongjoong’s stomach sank. “Stay here?” Lils nodded. “But you get a choice,” she explained. “You can either spend eternity in here,” she said, gesturing to the round room.

Hongjoong looked up as more light filled the room, illuminating the various cells set into the stone walls. Cells upon cells lined the walls, extending up and up, thin walkways with iron railings providing access to the upper cells. Each cell had iron bars and all of the cells on the ground level were occupied. Darkness lay within the cells so Hongjoong could not see the contents.

He turned his eyes back to Lils. “Or you can spend eternity outside the Panopticon where the high speed winds will whip you around, stinging your face, and chilling you to the bone. Out there, you will spend eternity in discomfort,” she continued. “In here, you will be comfortable for a time but then you will slowly go mad. It’s your choice.”

Hongjoong stared back at her as she waited for him to choose as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He glanced around at the cells once more before imagining what it was like outside the Panopticon. The winds sounded almost worse but the thought of slowly losing his mind kept him from picking the former. He was stuck at a crossroads.

He glanced around once more, hoping to find a way out, though he couldn’t see one. 

Hongjoong resigned himself to his fate. “Put me in a cell,” he said. Lils gave him an apologetic smile and nodded to a figure Hongjoong hadn’t noticed joined them. He was then led to a set of concrete stairs that looked altogether unstable and ready to collapse at any moment. After climbing up several staircases he was led to a cell, the door opened as they approached, and he reluctantly stepped inside, promising himself he would one day get out.

The first day went by with no indication that a new day had started. Hongjoong lay on the small rickety cot against the wall, staring at the ceiling of his cell as those around him screamed, pounded on the walls, and rattled the bars of their doors. He shut his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds. He imagined he was anywhere else. A vision came to his mind.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a forest. His forest. He looked around at the trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves of the canopy and dancing on the ground as birds and other cheerful forest sounds surrounded him. He turned his head, his gaze finding a sight he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years.

His cabin. It was just as he remembered leaving it all those centuries ago when Yeosang came to get him with a mob of villagers. The night he’d told you to take his box and hide it. The last night he’d been freed before his death. He walked towards the cabin, finding it void of life.

The front door stood ajar. He approached it slowly, reaching out to push the wooden door open. The inside of the cabin was different than he remembered. It was all stone instead of wood. He looked around at the dark stone walls and floor, his eyes picking up a trail of blood. He stopped, following the trail with his eyes until he reached the source.

His stomach churned, eyes widening in horror as he took in the sight of two bodies lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the round room. Lifeless eyes stared back at him from vacant expressions of both Stella and Yeosang and he let out a scream.

Back in the cell, Hongjoong’s eyes snapped open and he was met with the rough stone ceiling of his cell. ‘You’re still there,’ he thought to himself. Over the centuries, Hongjoong hadn’t been able to rid himself of his host’s thoughts. The body he inhabited, the name he went by, the identity he’d stolen. He was not actually Hongjoong. He was Dannarok. Hongjoong was the name of the body he inhabited. The witch who had been sacrificed as a body for him to inhabit.

Hongjoong sat up quickly. He hadn’t come back empty handed after all. He’d brought back a soul. Hongjoong’s soul. He glanced towards the door and contemplated his options. One soul wasn’t enough to free him but surely, it was enough to give him at least a day out? It was worth the risk.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he got up and walked over to the door, peering out into the Panopticon. He looked around, seeing no one. He cleared his throat and called out. “Anyone there?” he asked. There was no response. He tried again, deciding to call out to the woman. She seemed much more open to negotiations than the man.

“Lils?” Hongjoong tried again, a little louder. The manic chanting and screams from the other cells didn’t do much to cover his voice and yet, there was still no response. “Lils!” he tried again, a little louder. “I have a proposition for you!” That seemed to do the trick. A pair of tall, cloaked guards appeared, face obscured by black cloth as they flanked the much smaller Lils who had removed her cloak and underneath wore a simple pastel purple dress.

“A proposition?” she inquired, tilting her head. Her hair fell in loose curls down past her shoulders, two small black bows clipped into her hair. “What sort of proposition?” Hongjoong leaned against the bars, his hands curling around the cool iron. “I didn’t come back empty-handed,” Hongjoong started. “I brought a soul with me.” Lils stared at him before smiling.

“I figured you would like to keep that one,” she explained. “Someone to keep you company.” Hongjoong shook his head. “To be honest, I’d like to be rid of him. He would drive me insane faster than being locked in here.” Lils’ smile fell slightly. “Is that so?” she asked. Hongjoong wasn’t sure what she meant but he nodded. “So how about I hand him over and you give me a day topside? One day. 24 hours.”

Lils looked at him, studying him carefully. “Twenty four hours? You think you deserve such a long time topside for one human soul?” Lils asked, tilting her head. Hongjoong felt his stomach sink. “Is that not how it works?” he asked. Lils sighed. “You have to see this from my perspective,” she said softly. “You’re considered a flight risk. I could give you twenty four hours and you could disappear for years. I can’t risk that. But if you really want to get rid of the soul, I can take it from you.”

Hongjoong took a step back. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not unless I get something in return. Until you can offer me what I want, I’ll keep the soul.” Lils kept her eyes on him as he sank back into the cell and sat back down on the bed. She turned away, the cloaked figures flanking her as she walked away, leaving Hongjoong with a few parting words.

“Call me if you change your mind.”

Hongjoong’s days were filled with the same routine. Sleep, wake up, stare at the ceiling while the winds outside the panopticon raged on, shaking the building fiercely, despite its strong construction. It made him infinitely grateful he chose to spend eternity inside rather than outside. The days blurred together as there was no rise or fall of a sun or moon. No clocks, no calendars, nothing to help show the passage of time. It soon became irrelevant. Three days, three weeks, three years? None of it mattered.

Soon, Hongjoong couldn’t sleep as his dreams were being commandeered by the faint soul inside that tried desperately to regain control. He hadn’t been this weak since he first took over the body of the witch. He was growing weaker and weaker and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep control. As he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he heard a voice, whispering into his ear.

‘Get up.’

Hongjoong sat up quickly, looking around. He saw nothing as he surveyed his surroundings. The cell was empty, save for him. The chamberpot and sink sat undisturbed, there was no window and the only light came through the bars of his door from the dim glow outside. When he was certain he was alone, he started to lay back down but was greeted with the same whisper.

‘I said get up!’

Hongjoong got up, getting off the bed and backed against the wall opposite it, staring at his bed. Was this it? Was he finally starting to lose it? Would he soon be joining his neighbors and fellow inmates in their manic screams and pounding on the walls of his cell, smearing his shit on the walls and shaking the bars of his door?

‘You’re not going crazy,’ the voice said. ‘It’s me. It’s Hongjoong.’

Hongjoong relaxed as the voice spoke to him. He realized it wasn’t a whisper, at least not from an external force. It was coming from inside his mind. “Wh-what do you want?” he asked the witch. ‘I want out of here. I didn’t ask for any of this,’ the voice in his mind said. ‘I’ve sat by and watched you ruin my life, use my body for heinous acts and couldn’t do anything. For hundreds of years, I’ve been a prisoner in my own body but not anymore.’

Hongjoong stood still as he listened. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “It’s not like I can really go anywhere. We’re stuck here.” He glanced around the room. There was truly no way out that he could see. ‘You’re thinking too physically,’ the voice in his mind said, a hint of amusement. ‘There’s no physical exit, that’s true. But has there ever been a physical entrance and exit to Hell?’

Hongjoong was starting to catch on, a smile spreading across his face. “So,” he started, walking back over to the bed and sitting down on the edge.

“What do you need me to do?”

Rain fell, thundering rumbling as you glanced out the rain streaked windows. “I didn’t know it was supposed to storm,” you said softly as Seonghwa came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Perhaps we should have stayed in bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “We can’t sleep in bed all day,” you countered as you watched the rain fall, hitting the standing water on the empty circle drive.

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Seonghwa mumbled into your ear, his breath tickling you as his hands moved down to your hips. “I wasn’t talking about sleeping.” You turned in his hold, your hands smoothing up his chest over the soft linen shirt he wore. “You never want to sleep,” you reminded him. “I’m starting to get sore.”

Seonghwa let out a chuckle as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Can you blame me?” he asked against your lips. “I spent hundreds of years trapped in that forest. Hundreds of years alone,” he continued, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips in between words. “Centuries without you,” he added. He pulled back to look at you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek.

“And the universe deemed me worthy of a second chance with the only person I have ever loved?” he asked, eyes scanning your face as he took in every detail. “I’m going to take advantage of that every minute I can.” You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly as your eyes fluttered shut. “If I could spend the rest of eternity making love to you, I would,” he added softly, making your cheeks flush.

“Kissing and tasting every inch of your body,” he continued, lips ghosting over yours as he leaned in close. “Taking my time, making you feel every inch of me as I drag you deeper into the throes of passion,” he continued, nose gently bumping against yours. “Whispering words of praise and affirmations of my love and devotion to you,” he added. “I’ll settle for spending every day of the rest of our lives doing just that.”

You giggled as he pulled you into another kiss, the sound muffled by his mouth. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, meeting yours in a slow, languide dance. Seonghwa pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you so much, blossom,” he whispered. “Now and forever.”

You were about to respond when a loud beeping sounded, ringing out from the kitchen. You pulled back to look at him. “That’s lunch,” you said smiling up at him, reluctantly pulling from his grasp but not before stealing another kiss.

Seonghwa followed you to the kitchen as you grabbed an oven mitt and opened the oven, grabbing the dish inside and pulling it out and setting it on top of the range, closing the oven door and turning it off. Seonghwa leaned against the kitchen island, watching you work. “You know,” he started.

“We could have had the staff do this,” he reminded you as you started to cut up the contents of the baking dish, a lasagna. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. “Do you not trust my cooking?” you asked, the tone of your voice playful. Seonghwa let out a laugh and stood up straight, crossing the small space between you as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“It’s not that, my love,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “I just would have rather let the staff do this and I could have gotten more time in bed with you.” Shaking your head, you laughed as you finished dividing the lasagna up. “Is the table set?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “Yes, dear,” he said, stealing a kiss. “Go sit down,” you instructed.

“You’re not serving me,” he protested but you pouted at him. “Please let me play your dutiful and doting wife for one day,” you pleaded, making him laugh as he finally let go of you. “Fine,” he said as he started towards the archway that led into the dining room. “But only because you asked me oh so nicely,” he added, pointing at you before disappearing. You grabbed the dish with the pot holders and carried it from the kitchen into the dining room.

When you moved into Seonghwa’s ancestral mansion, you’d never been accustomed to such luxury. His family owned a gorgeous mansion deep in the mountainous countryside of Korea. It was a grand home with 3 floors and a sprawling basement. It boasted a total of eleven bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, a movie theater, six car garage, an extensive private library, multiple parlors, drawing rooms, and even a ballroom. 

The grounds were extensive, with multiple private gardens, a lake that was kept well stocked, forests for hunting, a guest house with five bedrooms, horse stables, outdoor tennis court and basketball court. You weren’t ashamed to admit you’d gotten lost on a number of occasions. When you moved in, Seonghwa had offered for you to have your own room separate from his and while you did in the beginning, it was lonely sleeping in such a large bed all by yourself and you gravitated to his suite which you eventually moved into.

It wasn’t long afterwards that you got married. Seonghwa had proposed almost the moment you stepped foot into the house when he sent for you a few years ago while you were visiting the country. You accepted of course, not wanting to be parted from him for another second. After a year-long engagement, your wedding was held at the house, Seonghwa invited his surviving family. It was a small, intimate affair and afterwards, you went on a month-long honeymoon, traveling and visiting various places. 

Seonghwa wasted no time in taking you to bed after you were married. He had a voracious sexual appetite and proved to be a very skilled and adept lover. Your bedroom activities had yet to bear any fruit but you both weren’t in any rush to have children. You wanted it to happen naturally, if it happened at all. 

You set the lasagna down on the table as Seonghwa watched you from his seat. “Salad?” you asked, picking up the bowl. He said nothing, merely nodding as he watched you with a smile. You filled his plate with salad before serving yourself. You then set the bowl down and grabbed his plate to place a slice of lasagna on it and set it back down to serve your own food.

“Alright,” Seonghwa said as you set the serving spoon down. “Food’s been served, now sit down please.” You rolled your eyes but obliged, sitting in the chair adjacent to his at the head of the table. “At least I’m sitting here,” you said as you picked up your fork. “And not down there.” Seonghwa followed your gaze to the opposite end of the table and immediately took your free hand. “I would absolutely despise it if you sat that far away from me,” he said softly, gently massaging your hand.

You nodded towards his plate. “Eat,” you urged. “Before it gets cold.” Seonghwa’s eyes never left your face. “And what if I want to eat something else?” You looked up to meet his dark gaze. “Eat your lunch and you can have your dessert early,” you offered. He perked up. “My dessert?” he inquired. “What’s for dessert?” You met his gaze, fighting the urge to smile. “Me.”

Seonghwa didn’t complain or speak again until his plate was clear. You’d never seen some wolf down their food so fast. Once lunch had been eaten and the leftovers put away, you started to clean up, much to Seonghwa’s annoyance. Still, as a dutiful husband, he helped you wash the dishes, wiping and putting them away as you handed them to him.

Once you were done, and the sink was rinsed down, Seonghwa pounced, hands guiding you until your back met the cool marble of the counters. He lifted you onto the edge, lips kissing down the side of your neck as he laid you back. His lips continued down, kissing over the material of your sundress until he lifted the skirt and pulled your panties from you.

“Hwa,” you whined as he kissed down the inside of your thigh closer and closer to your aching heat. “You couldn’t have waited until we got back to the bedroom?” you asked, back arching as his breath fanned over your sex. “You said I could have my dessert if I finished my lunch,” he whispered, licking his lips as he drew level with your core.

“And I never eat in bed.”

Hongjoong wasn’t sure how he got out of his cell but the feeling of the cold rain hitting his skin was a shock, his eyes snapping open to find himself staring up at the gray skies. He sat up, looking around. He was lying in the middle of a paved road, pine forests surrounding him. He got to his feet, scrambling up as he looked around and ran to the side of the road and stumbling into the trees to regain his composure and get a sense of his surroundings.

He leaned against a tree, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. He reached up, running his fingers through the soaked strands and pushing them back from his face. He was in the mortal world once more. He’d managed to find a weak point and was now topside. It was only a matter of time before the powers that be discovered his escape and would come for him.

‘You tricked me,’ a voice hissed. Hongjoong looked down at his hands and smiled to himself. He was back in control of the witch’s body. ‘You said you’d free me!’ Hongjoong sighed, shaking his head. “And I will,” he responded. “This body is mine,” he said. “Once I’ve had my revenge, I’ll let you go.”

‘Revenge? What revenge?’

Hongjoong stood up and stepped back onto the road, looking to his left and then his right. Both directions, the road stretched and curved out of sight. He turned back to the left and started walking, a destination in his mind. He’d picked this place because he knew what he’d find close by.

He continued to walk, enjoying the feeling of the rain on his skin, the clothes he wore now soaked and clinging to his skin. He hadn’t seen a single soul, not a car or any other sign of life. He followed the winding road until he reached a large iron gate. A ten foot tall stone wall separated him from his destination but that wouldn’t deter him.

There was a placard in the iron bars of the gate, an emblem of sorts. The letters P and E engraved into the iron. Hongjoong walked up to the gate and grabbed the bars. He tried to push and pull but the gate didn’t budge. Sighing, he glanced up at the top of the stone wall. He’d have to find some other way in.

Stepping off the road, he followed the stone wall through the woods, sliding down a hill from the road and continued to walk, hoping to find either a break in the wall or a shorter section. As he walked, leaves and twigs snapping and crunching underfoot, he contemplated what he was about to do. He was full of rage and contempt for the inhabitants of this estate. Why should they get their happy ending while he was doomed to spend eternity in a cell?

Luck was on his side when he found a section of the wall where the stone bulged out a little more creating small places where he could grab and climb. Hongjoong easily scaled the wall, climbing over the top and dropping back down on the other side. He walked forward, following a pull he couldn’t explain. His walk didn’t take long as a large sprawling mansion appeared through the trees.

He stopped at the edge of the forest, looking up at the imposing manor and scoffed. “Of course he comes from money,” he murmured to himself. Keeping to the shadow of the forest, Hongjoong made his way to the house, keeping his eyes and ears open. He reached the side of the house and carefully walked around towards the back, glancing up to find a balcony. “Bingo.”

He carefully started to climb a tree next to the house, peering through the windows into empty rooms until he reached the top floor and peered into the room. It was a massive bedroom. A large four poster bed stood against the wall opposite the window, burgundy bed linens decorate the bed along with the curtains for the four posters. Hongjoong leaned in closer, squinting as he tried to see past the rain streaked glass panes.

There was movement in the bed, the sheets moving. He glanced over to the balcony and made a decision. He carefully stood up on the branch and stepped lightly until he was close enough to jump to the balcony, landing on the stone railing. He quietly jumped down and crouched, making his way over to the french doors. He ducked under a window beside the doors and carefully peered over the window sill. 

From this position, he could see a little better. He felt heat rise in him as he recognized the vampire. The one he’d made his servant for centuries. ‘Seonghwa,’ the witch’s voice said. ‘His name is Seonghwa and you ruined his life.’ Hongjoong ignored the voice as he watched the scene inside the room. It was very clear what he was seeing. The vampire, Seonghwa, in the midst of intimacy with…

Hongjoong’s blood boiled as he recognized your face. The woman who had destroyed everything he built. The reason he was banished to begin with, all his hard work decimated. Hongjoong watched as you sat up, taking control and pushing Seonghwa onto his back. He watched the way your hips moved and he could vaguely remember how it felt when you were on top of him, hand on his neck as you rode him before you stabbed him.

Hongjoong watched as your movements sped up, hips moving faster, Seonghwa’s hands moving to your hips as he moved with you. Hongjoong’s rage only grew as pleasure overtook the both of you and you no doubt came together. He watched as you leaned down, kissing your lover before he finally tore his gaze away from the scene.

His luck couldn’t have gotten better. Here you both were. He could enact his revenge all at once.

He peered into the room once more, finding you both had started to move. He would have to hide until night before he could put his plan into motion. He stayed crouched as he moved towards the edge of the balcony and climbed over, dropping to the ground and making his way into the forest to lie in wait.

You watched as Seonghwa dressed in silence from the safety of the bathtub. He turned to find you watching him. “What?” he asked softly. You shook your head, instead letting your eyes rake over his form. “I was hoping you’d join me,” you said as you sank further into the bubbles. Seonghwa smiled as he adjusted his collar and walked over, taking a seat on the step of the tub.

“As much as I’d love that,” he murmured. “I do need to attend to some business.” He leaned over to meet you in a kiss. “Just a couple online meetings,” he said reassuringly. “And then I am yours for the rest of the day and night. Maybe we’ll take a dip in the hot tub,” he suggested, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Or just come back to the room and I’ll focus on putting a baby inside you.”

You felt your stomach flutter at his words. You’d been married for two years now and you had both talked extensively about wanting to start a family. You’d both just been enjoying married life and waiting for nature to take its course but apparently Seonghwa was growing impatient. “Put a baby in me?” you asked softly, leaning back against the backrest. Seonghwa nodded, eyes following you.

“I won’t stop until I know you’re carrying my baby,” he answered. “If I have to fuck you for a week straight, I will,” he added. You were about to respond when he reached down, grabbing you gently by the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. “Hold that thought,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He pressed another soft kiss to your lips. “I love you, my petal.”

“Love you,” you responded as he got up and backed away from the tub through the double doors into the bedroom and slowly shut the doors until you were left alone in the room.

You let out a sigh and rested against the plush backrest, soaking in the warmth of the soapy water. Your eyes slid shut as you basked, enjoying the quiet while you were able to. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you sat up quickly, water splashing softly as you did. You glanced around the room, taking in the soft tones of the walls and cabinets.

You groaned as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. The water was lukewarm and most of the bubbles had disappeared and the water was instead a murky white from the combination of soaps and bath salts you added. Pulling the plug, you got out of the bath, letting the water drain as you turned on the shower and stepped in to rinse off quickly before heading to the closet and picking out something to wear.

You opted for a fitted dress with a pastel marbled look. It had ruching and off the shoulder sleeves. The hem fell to the middle of your shin and hugged your body. You chose not to wear underwear under it in case your husband got any ideas and that was one less barrier between you.

You slipped on a pair of simple white flats and walked out of the closet, heading out of the master suite and started to wander the halls. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since Seonghwa left you in the tub but you would wait for him to find you when his meetings were done.

You made your way through the house, the thunder still rumbling in the distance as the rain continued to come down. It was a dreary day so you would definitely not be venturing outside today. You crossed the large entrance hall, your footsteps echoing off the stone floor.

Picking a random hall, you followed it until you picked one of the various doors and turned the knob, pushing it open and peering inside. Even after three years in this house, you hadn’t seen everything it had to offer.

The room you picked seemed to be a parlor of sorts. There was a gorgeous dark blue furniture set decorated the room. A loveseat and two arm chairs. The dark blue cushions were contrasted by the white oak wood and gold accents stood in the middle of the room. Under the window was a small cabinet made from the same white oak with glass doors revealing the contents inside. 

Various knickknacks sat on the shelves, hiding behind the glass and staying pristine. Two end tables that matched stood on either side of the loveseat with ornate lamps sitting on them. Behind the couch was a larger cabinet, various glasses sat on a tray upside down to prevent dust from settling inside. The doors of the cabinet were solid white oak with gold hardware and as you approached, you opened one of the doors to find various bottles of alcohol inside ranging from brandy and cognac to vodka and soju.

Shutting the door, you turned to face the wall behind you where another cabinet stood, glass doors revealing more knickknacks and books. On top of the cabinet was a collection of frames with various portraits. You walked closer, inspecting them one by one until you found one that caught your eye. It was a double frame connected by a hinge with two photos sitting behind the frames.

Picking it up, you stared in awe at the sight of a picture of Seonghwa, much like the one you’d found in the forest all those years ago when you visited the Library and escaped. You still had that photo, tucked away for safekeeping but here it was, a larger version of it. In the other frame was a picture of a woman who looked remarkably like you. “Blossom,” you whispered as you stared at the photo.

It was uncanny how much you looked alike and yet there were subtle differences in the hair, the eyes, the lips, and a few other places. You were so preoccupied by inspecting the photos that you didn’t hear the door open. “There you are,” a voice said, drawing you back to reality and you jumped, nearly dropping the photo frame. Seonghwa stood in the doorway, hand on the knob as he looked at you.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked softly, pushing the door open and joining you. Nodding, you glanced down at the frame in your hands. Seonghwa gently took the frame from you and placed it back on the cabinet before taking your hand. “Come,” he urged gently. “I have something to show you.”

You weren’t sure how long you had been in that room, staring at the photo as your thoughts consumed you but the sky had started to darken as the sun set and night settled in. Seonghwa led you through the house, past the kitchen and dining room and into the pool room. It was a sort of four seasons room but it had the pool and hot tub built in. During the warmer months, the large windows opened up but in the winter, they closed, allowing you to enjoy the pool and hot tub year round.

Seonghwa stopped once he pulled you into the room. He’d set various candles around the room, ranging from small tea lights to large candles. All of them were lit and there was a small path of rose petals leading towards the hot tub. “I figure we could order in,” he suggested. “You cooked lunch, which was lovely, but the whole point of this day is for me to pamper you.” 

A laugh escaped your lips. “That’s not the point of the day,” you reminded him. “It’s a celebration of our love.” Seonghwa nodded. “And the way I show you how I love you is by not letting you do anything while I have everything done for us,” he explained. You laughed again as you allowed him to pull you closer.

“And I show my love by making you food and being your loving wife,” you countered. “Besides, the steaks have been marinating all day.” Seonghwa sighed in defeat. “Fine,” he conceded. “But after dinner, we can take a dip?” he asked, his voice full of hope. You nodded as you kissed his cheek. “But put the candles out for now. Don’t want anything to catch fire while I cook and we eat.”

You turned and left while he did that and you got started on dinner.

Since it was still raining and you really didn’t want to go outside, even if it grill was covered, you made dinner inside. Seonghwa stood on standby to help where needed and to give you encouraging kisses until you finally kicked him out, telling him to go relax. He instead sat at the island and observed you, his eyes following your every move.

He kept you company while you sliced potatoes for the au gratin potatoes, watching you carefully. You managed to finish without incident and place the dish in the oven while you got started on making a dessert. Seonghwa watched you through it all, fascinated by the way you worked so diligently. “I really am the luckiest man in the world,” he said, chin resting in his hands as you finished the no bake cheesecake and placed it in the fridge to set.

“I’m the lucky one,” you retorted as you turned on the range, ready to start cooking the steaks. Seonghwa watched from his perch as you seared the steaks, cooking them to the level of doneness that you knew he liked. “Smells good,” he commented as you took a break from the steaks to get the potatoes from the oven, setting them on the island to cool for a bit.

Seonghwa got up, walking around to look at them more closely before walking over to kiss your cheek. He disappeared as you returned your focus to the steaks. Once you were sure they were done, you pulled them from the skillet and set them on a cutting board to rest while you made a sauce.

Seonghwa returned a little while later carrying the plates you’d set out for the two of you. “What are you doing?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder as he set the plates and placemats down at the kitchen island. “There’s no reason for us to sit at that massive dining table,” he explained. “We’ll just eat in here.”

You shook your head as you turned off the range. Seonghwa joined you as you plated his steak, drizzling the sauce over it and served a scoop of the potatoes while he plated some of the salad you had prepared earlier. You finished your plate and joined him at the kitchen island while he poured two glasses of wine.

The food was some of the best you’d cooked and Seonghwa couldn’t stop expressing his compliments. When you finished, he helped you clean up once more and while you were checking the dessert, Seonghwa came up behind you. “I like this dress,” he murmured, his hands moving to your hips, smoothing over the fabric.

“When did you get it?” he asked as you stood up and shut the fridge door to face him. “A few weeks ago,” you answered. “I was supposed to wear it to that charity event but I got sick.” Seonghwa nodded. “I remember that,” he said as he pulled you against him. “You insisted I go to the event without you,” he said, cupping your cheek. “And you should have,” you reminded him.

“How could I go and leave my beautiful, ailing wife alone at home?” he asked, swaying softly. “I couldn’t do that to you,” he added. “I would have spent the whole night worrying about you. I would much rather be by your side.” You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. “Which I appreciate but it’s not like I was dying. I had the stomach flu,” you reminded him.

Seonghwa chuckled against your lips as you kissed him again. “So,” he said, changing the trajectory of the conversation. “What are you wearing under this,” he asked, running his hands up your sides and towards your back to pull you taut against him. “Under this?” you asked, gesturing at your dress. He nodded as you leaned in, lips close to his ear. “Absolutely nothing.”

The speed at which he dragged you from the kitchen to the pool room was astonishing, quickly stripping you of your dress and guiding you into the hot tub. The rose petals that had been floating on the surface of the water were now being swirled around by the bubbles as the jets turned on.

“You really didn’t need to do all this,” you said as Seonghwa walked around, lighting the candles once more before starting to strip himself and join you in the tub, grabbing your hand under the water and pulling you closer. “I know,” he murmured as he sat on one of the seats, pulling you onto his lap.

“I wanted to.” His lips enveloped yours as his arms wrapped around you. You rested your forearms on his shoulders, fingers combing through his hair as you both got caught up in a steamy exchange of tongues and breathy moans. “I said I wasn’t going to stop until you’re pregnant,” he reminded you, lips ghosting over your skin as he guided you over his lap, aligning the tip of his cock with your slit and slowly pushing you down onto him.

You let out a gasp as your walls sucked him in, ignoring the dull ache as his cock filled you. “F-fuck, baby,” you groaned as he bottomed out with a shaky breath. “Happy anniversary, blossom,” he whispered in your ear.

Night had fallen by the time Hongjoong returned to the mansion, exiting the forest under the cover of darkness. He’d watched from the trees as you and Seonghwa enjoyed a moment of intimacy in what you presumed was the privacy of your pool room and yet he was there in the trees watching, taking notes, and waiting.

He climbed the tree from before, making his way onto the balcony and crept over to the window to peer in. It was dark in the room and he could just barely make out yours and Seonghwa’s sleeping forms, tangled in the sheets. He crept over to the door and grabbed the knob, turning it slowly until it clicked softly and he was able to open the door and sneak inside and out of the rain.

With the door shut behind him, he stayed low, crossing the room to the bathroom and quietly shut the door. Once inside, he felt he could stand and so he did, removing his shoes and socks and slowly stripping himself of his wet clothes and walked into the closet which the automatic light turned on. He browsed through Seonghwa’s clothes, picking out a few items and dressing in silence. 

He made his way back out, the light shutting off behind him. He quietly opened the door, peering out into the room where you were sleeping, the sheets pulled up to your waist. You slept peacefully as he approached, chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

Hongjoong slowly lowered himself to his knees beside you and reached out, gently caressing your cheek. He leaned in, close to your ear. “Follow the sound of my voice,” he whispered. “Find me.”

He carefully got up, walking around the bed, keeping his eyes on your form, only glancing at Seonghwa as he neared the door. He carefully opened it, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door until it was open only a sliver. He walked down the hall, the steps of his bare feet muffled against the wooden floor. He opened doors as he walked past, peering inside to find unused bedrooms.

He kept going until he found a set of stairs and descended them, finding more rooms to inspect. He found one to his liking and entered it, exploring as he waited for you to awaken from your slumber and find him. He left the room and made his way downstairs, entering a parlor of sorts. He examined the room as he made his way to the fireplace and with a click of his fingers, a fire started. He rounded the couch, opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass bottle to pour himself a glass of amber liquid.

He placed the stopper back on the decanter and grabbed the glass, taking a sip before he walked back around and sat down on the couch to wait for you to join him.

You were pulled from your slumber by a gentle caressing against your cheek. Though you were awake, you couldn’t open your eyes. A soft voice spoke to you, piercing the silence. “Follow the sound of my voice,” it whispered. “Find me.”

You awoke with a start as thunder crashed overhead, shaking the house. You glanced next to you, finding your husband fast asleep next to you. As you were about to sink back down into the bed, your eyes caught sight of a trail of wet footprints on the floor leading from the doors to the balcony to the bathroom. You pulled the sheets back, careful not to wake your husband until you were absolutely certain it was necessary. You slipped on your slippers, grabbing your robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on over your naked form.

Once at the bathroom door, you peered into the dark room, finding a dark blob on the tile floor. Approaching it cautiously, you knelt down and touched it. It was wet. You grabbed it and discovered it was a wet jacket. You found more wet clothes lying on the floor leading to the closet.

Standing up, you walked over, stepping into the closet where the light turned on. Save for the clothes, your closet was empty. You exited the room, the light shutting off as you headed back into the bedroom. You walked over to the double doors and checked the knob. It was locked. ‘How the hell did someone get in?’ you wondered as you turned and your eyes darted towards the bedroom door which was open a crack. You were certain Seonghwa had closed that before you went to bed.

You approached it cautiously, glancing at your sleeping husband. You contemplated waking him but you were a strong woman and capable of holding her own. You opened the door and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door behind you.

Your feet carried you down the hall, steps soft as you passed open doors and peered into the rooms beyond, finding them all empty. You went down the stairs to the next floor and followed the path of open doors until you reached the main floor. 

As you reached the bottom landing, you heard soft music drifting through the house. You walked through the foyer, jumping slightly when lightning flashed through the windows and thunder rumbled the house. The rain had picked up and was now pouring. Your feet carried you closer and closer to the source of the music, following the same path you had earlier after your bath.

The door to the parlor was left ajar and you pushed it open further, peering into the room. Your eyes landed on a figure standing by the fireplace. He wore Seonghwa’s clothes but it was not your husband. He had caramel colored hair that was longer in the back, metal rings and studs decorated his ear, reflecting the dancing light of a fire that crackled in the fireplace. His face was obscured to you, turned towards the fire, one of the crystal glasses from the liquor cabinet in his hand, its contents an amber liquid that glowed in the firelight.

You entered the room slowly, keeping your eyes on the figure. Once you were inside, the figure’s head turned and your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping you. The hair was different but here was no mistaking that face. Those piercing eyes. The door behind you shut on its own and you backed against it in fear, staring as the figure stalked around the couch slowly, making their way towards you.

“It can’t be,” you whispered. “You can’t be here.”

The figure approached, downing the rest of the liquid in the glass, setting it on a table before he approached you. “Yet, here I am, darling,” he answered, his voice just the same as you remembered.

It had been nearly four years since you’d seen him last but there was no mistaking it.

Hongjoong had returned.

“We b-banished you,” you protested weakly as he neared you, placing his hands on either side of your head against the door, caging you in. “You’re supposed to be in hell,” you added as he stared down at you. “Am I?” he asked softly. “And what if this is a dream?” he asked softly. 

One of his hands moved, taking note of the way you flinched. When he touched you, it was soft and gentle. He brushed his thumb over your exposed collar, swiping upwards and catching the collar of your robe, pulling it down past your shoulder. His eyes fell on the bite mark in your skin, a scar from Seonghwa when he was still a vampire.

“Is it a dream?” you asked softly. Hongjoong raised his eyes to meet your gaze. “Do you want it to be?” he asked, tilting his head as his hand moved, fingers skimming over the mark to your neck. You felt his fingertips curl around the back of your neck. “Do you want to dream about me?” he whispered, leaning in closer as he pressed himself against you, pressing you against the wooden door.

You turned your head away as he leaned in closer. His lips ghosted over your cheek. “If I’m supposed to be in hell, then there’s no way I can be here, right?” he asked into your ear, hand smoothing down your neck, over the silk of your robe.

“So it has to be a dream, right?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slid down over your chest, cupping your breast through the silk, feeling your naked body underneath. Your body reacted to his touch more than it should have, further confirming this was indeed a dream but if that was the case, why were you dreaming about Hongjoong of all people? Especially after four years.

“Do you want to wake up?” he asked in your ear as he parted your legs with his knee, pressing his thigh between yours. You could feel yourself growing wetting and wetter as he massaged your breast, lips skimming over your skin. “You could wake up, forget this ever happened and go back to sleep and the dream would be over,” he said softly, tongue slipping out.

You let out a soft groan as he licked up the side of your neck. “Or you can just enjoy the moment and give yourself to me. It’s only a dream,” he said with a hint of amusement. “What’s the worst that could happen?” You melted under his touch as his hand moved to your neck. “So what will it be?” he asked, lips ghosting over yours. “Wake up or enjoy it?”

“P-please,” you whimpered. “Do you want to wake up?” Hongjoong asked, fingers squeezing your throat gently. You shook your head, letting out a whimper as his eyes darkened. “Say it,” he urged. “Out loud.” You licked your lips, clearing your throat before speaking. “I-I don’t want to wake up yet.”

Hongjoong let out a sigh before taking your lips in a searing kiss, tongue immediately forcing inside your mouth. You gasped against his lips as his hands moved down to your thighs. He pulled back only slightly and quickly picked you up, pressing your back against the door as he kissed down your neck.

Without a word, he carried you over to the couch and sat down, setting you on his lap. He immediately pulled you back into a kiss one hand around your throat as the other worked to undo the knot of your robe. Once undone, Hongjoong pushed the material aside, exposing your skin to him.

He left a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collar, leaning you back as his lips traveled down between the valley of your breasts. He took one of your pert nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around it as he teased with light flicks and soft suckles.

Your head fell back, a moan leaving your lips as his hand moved to cup your other breast, gently massaging and kneading the soft flesh. He held you in place with one hand on your back. He let your nipple fall from his mouth, kissing back up to the junction of your neck and shoulder, nipping at the skin.

He carefully laid you down on the couch, ripping the robe from your body and tossing it aside as he hovered over you. Your thighs parted, allowing him to settle between them, putting his weight on you. “This feels so wrong,” you murmured as he kissed your skin, moving down your chest and stomach, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

“It’s just a dream,” he reminded you. “You can’t control what you dream about.”

Your legs spread as he drew level with your cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You moaned out, hands moving to his hair as his tongue made contact with your throbbing clit, lewd wet sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked, the cool steel ball of his piercing making your toes curl.

You writhed under him as he flicked his tongue against your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your arousal coated his lips as he ate you out like a man dying of starvation. Your thighs tried to close around his head but he refused, holding them open as he flattened his tongue against you. A cry escaped your lips as you came on his tongue.

Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he kissed back up your body, meeting your lips in a messy, rushed kiss. “On your knees, kitten,” he breathed out as he sat down on the couch, taking your hand and pulling you up into a sitting position. He undid his pants, pushing them down his hips and thighs and freeing his cock. You knelt beside him on the couch, waiting for his permission to touch him.

He pulled the shirt up and gestured for you to get started. You immediately took his cock in your hands, making him hiss. Leaning over, you let a drop of spit fall from your mouth, spreading it with your hand as you worked it up and down his shaft. Hongjoong reached up, grabbing the back of your neck. You looked up, meeting his gaze.

Without being prompted, you leaned over, taking the head of his cock in your mouth. Hongjoong’s head fell back against the couch, a groan leaving his lips as your head sank down on him. He kept his hand on the back of your neck, caressing gently as you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck that’s it,” he groaned. “Just like that, kitten.” You pulled back, sucking as you did before relaxing your jaw and starting to bob your head, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time, making a lewd wet gagging sound. Hongjoong’s hand moved up to the back of your head and pushed your head down gently, making you take more and more of him. 

“Relax,” he whispered when his cock hit the back of your throat. “Just relax and let me in.”

You did as he asked, relaxing your throat and choking when you felt his cock slip into your throat. He allowed you to pull back but then pushed you back down. He guided your head, his hips starting to chase the feeling, thrusting into your mouth. “That’s it,” he growled. “Relax that jaw and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

Wet gags bounced off the walls as he thrust up into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. Drool spilled from your lips and down his shaft but he didn’t care as he continued to thrust into your mouth harder and harder, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, making you gag and choke.

He forced your head down, holding it there as he tried to hold back his orgasm. After a few moments of you gagging against him, he finally released you, letting you sit up, gasping for air as he removed the rest of his clothes. “Come here,” he said softly, taking your hand and guiding you to sit over him. He pushed your hips down, reaching between your bodies to guide the tip of his cock towards your entrance.

You sat down, sinking on his cock with a moan as he stretched your walls. Each inch felt like it took forever and when he was finally full inside you, your body was shaking. “Good girl,” Hongjoong murmured as he grabbed your hips, guiding your movements. You let out another moan as you lifted, his cock sliding out of you before sinking back down, setting a steady pace, bouncing on him at your own speed.

Hongjoong’s hands were everywhere, your hips, your chest, your ass, your neck. He couldn’t stop touching you. “Come on,” he urged, grabbing your ass. “I know you can go faster than that.” You moved faster, bouncing harder on his cock, your fingers digging into the couch cushion behind him. “That’s it,” Hongjoong groaned, his cock throbbing inside you. 

“M’close,” you gasped over the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “Good,” Hongjoong growled, giving your ass a sharp smack. “Keep going until you’ve cum all over this cock like the filthy fucking slut I know you are,” he growled, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out. “Come on, you dirty fucking whore. Cum for me. Cum on my cock while your husband sleeps upstairs.”

Seonghwa woke with a start, rain pounding against the roof and windows. ‘Just the storm,’ he told himself as he settled back against the bed. Instinctively, he reached for you but found your side of the bed empty. He raised his head and looked around. He expected to see light seeping from under the bathroom door but the door was open and it was dark.

He turned to look at the clock on his bedside table where the red digital numbers informed him it was well past three in the morning. Seonghwa sat up and pulled back the covers, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Now that he was up, he could see wet footprints on the wooden floor. He followed them back to the source and got up to inspect.

The bathroom was empty save for some wet clothes that he knew didn’t belong to him or you. There was an intruder in the house. He walked back to the door as lightning flashed, throwing the room into brightness before shadow overtook it again. Opening the cracked door, he peered out into the hallway. He walked down the corridor, inspecting the doors that had been left open but found no trace of you or an intruder in each one, shutting them as he went.

On the second floor, he found the same thing, more open doors yet still no trace of you or the intruder.

On the main floor, he inspected the kitchen and dining room but nothing seemed out of place. As he passed through the kitchen, he stopped at the counter, grabbing a knife from the knife block and continued on. As he entered one of the front halls, light spilled out of a room onto the floor. 

He approached slowly, his grip on the knife tightening. He pushed the door open and found the room empty. There was a used crystal glass and a fire dancing in the fireplace. He looked around and found no one but as he rounded the couch, he found your silk robe lying on the floor. He picked it up and looked around once more.

There was a giggle behind him and the parlor door slammed shut. He set your robe down on the back of the couch and walked to the door, grabbing the knob and twisting it but the door didn’t budge. He tried again, tugging at the knob roughly but it still didn’t give. He hit the butt of the knife against the wood. “Open the door!” he yelled. “Let me out!”

He tried several more times to wrench the door open to no avail before he let go and stepped back, looking around the room. He headed over to the window and peered out into the rain where he saw a dark figure standing in front of the  house in the middle of the circle drive. He squinted, trying to make out if it was you or not. Lightning flashed and lit up the area momentarily.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as the figure he saw shifted for a split second from a human into a hulking monstrous half man, half goat-like form. He nearly fell back but as soon as it happened, the figure was gone. He glanced around the yard but saw nothing else. He heard the door click and spun around to find the door cracked open.

He rushed over and yanked the door open, looking into the hall before he exited the room, following the hallway back to the entrance hall. He heard footsteps running on the balcony above and he darted for the stairs, running up. As he reached the second floor landing, he heard footsteps racing up the steps to the third floor. 

He followed them, reaching the landing at the end of the hall opposite his and your shared bedroom. The door which he had left open was now shut. He approached slowly, keeping an eye out for any movement. As he reached the door, he took a deep breath and grabbed the knob, his grip on the knife handle in his hand tightening as he turned the knob.

The latch clicked and he carefully pushed the door open, the soft squeak breaking the silence. Seonghwa peered into the room, finding it empty, save for your figure on the bed. Seonghwa entered the room and shut the door quickly, locking it. He swept the whole room, from top to bottom, even checking the bathroom and closet but found no sign of an intruder.

As he exited the bathroom and moved around to his side of the bed, he sat down, setting the knife on his bedside table. He would remind himself to return it to the kitchen in the morning before you woke. He turned to look at you, peacefully asleep. As he was about to pull his feet up into the bed, there was a creak in the floor. Seonghwa felt his heart skip a beat. It came from directly under the bed.

Frozen in terror, Seonghwa was unable to move. He glanced at you, contemplating waking you up. As he moved his hand over the sheets to try and gently rouse you, he felt a strong pair of hands close around his ankles and tug, knocking him from the bed.

He let out a scream as he tried to free himself, kicking and trying to grab anything as whatever it was under the bed tried to drag him under. Seonghwa kicked himself free and scrambled away from the bed, crawling to the wall and sat gasping with his back against the wall. He could now see under the bed but there was nothing there. Lightning flashed again, the light gleaming off the blade of the kitchen knife.

Seonghwa glanced around before deciding to go for it. As he tried to get up, a figure appeared, rushing him and slamming him against the wall, a hand closing around his throat. Seonghwa cried out in pain and looked down at the figure, a wave of fear passing over him as he looked into the familiar face of the demon who had made his life a living hell centuries ago.

“It’s not possible!” Seonghwa choked out, struggling to free himself. “You’re supposed to be in hell!” Hongjoong smirked up at him, fingers tightening around Seonghwa’s throat. “Surprise,” he said in a dangerously low voice. “I’m back!”

Seonghwa kicked out, trying to free himself. Hongjoong tossed him aside easily and Seonghwa slid across the floor, his back hitting the foot of the bed. Hongjoong calmly followed as Seonghwa tried to crawl away but the demon was quicker, stepping over him and kneeling down, grabbing Seonghwa by the hair. Seonghwa let out a strangled cry as Hongjoong held the knife to his throat. 

“I could kill you right here,” Hongjoong threatened. “It would be so easy. Kill you, steal your wife, turn her into my breeding bitch, and then eventually kill her,” he continued. “But I’m not going to do that.” Hongjoong threw the knife, the blade embedding into the wall by the door. He stood up, keeping a firm grip on Seonghwa’s hair and dragged him across the floor to a chair in the corner near the balcony doors. Hongjoong pulled him up, forcing him into the chair.

Seonghwa tried to get up but Hongjoong pushed him back down, grabbing one of the nearby curtains and ripped it down from the rod. He placed a foot on Seonghwa’s chest and kept him seated while he ripped the curtain into long pieces. One by one, he tied Seonghwa’s wrists and ankles to the chair. He ripped another piece from the curtain, tearing that in half. Part of it he wadded up and shoved into Seonghwa’s mouth before wrapping the other piece around his head, covering his mouth and tying it.

“There,” Hongjoong said as he stood back and admired his handiwork. “Now you’ll sit there and shut up.” Seonghwa tried to break free of his bonds but was unable to do so. Hongjoong turned, running his fingers through his hair. He approached the bed where you lay sleeping. Seonghwa screamed against his gag, thrashing violently. Hongjoong looked at him from beside you.

“Calm down or I’ll slit her throat right now,” Hongjoong ordered. Seonghwa stopped, falling silent. He watched as Hongjoong pulled back the sheets covering you, exposing your naked body. Seonghwa blinked away the tears that formed in his eyes. “Such a lucky man,” Hongjoong said, mocking Seonghwa’s earlier sentiments.

Seonghwa turned his head as Hongjoong stripped himself and climbed onto the bed. He wanted to scream, yell, fight, do something but he knew if he did, Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. He watched in horror as the demon repositioned your body. “You deserve a better view,” Hongjoong said, a smirk forming on his face. He hovered over you and Seonghwa pulled at his binds as Hongjoong’s hands ran over your body, skimming over your chest and up to your neck.

How desperately Seonghwa wanted to scream, threaten Hongjoong to not touch you. To get away from you. He was rendered helpless. Speechless. Useless. He watched as your body reacted but you stayed asleep. “Don’t worry about consent,” Hongjoong said, glancing over at Seonghwa. “She gave it to me earlier in the parlor.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he realized that he hadn’t been seeing things. You had been in the parlor. That’s why your robe was down there. “Just enjoy the show,” Hongjoong said before tearing his gaze away and Seonghwa could only watch helplessly as the demon kissed down your body, spreading your legs. “She’s already so wet,” Hongjoong groaned. He sat up, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and dragging your sleeping body down the bed towards him.

Seonghwa twisted against his bonds as Hongjoong took his cock in his hand, giving himself a few strokes before lining up with your entrance and pushing into you. The gasp and moan you let out made Seonghwa’s stomach churn and sink. It was the same sound you made when he sank into you for the first time.

Hongjoong let out a groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck,” he rasped. “This is what you get every night?” he asked, looking over to where Seonghwa sat, bound and gagged. “Lucky man, indeed.”

Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong’s hand gripped your hips, raising them up to rest your ass against his thighs as he thrust shallowly into you. Seonghwa blinked away the tears, turning to look away from the scene unfolding on his own bed in his own home. “If you don’t watch, I will force you and you really don’t want that,” Hongjoong growled.

Seonghwa took several deep breaths before forcing himself to look. “I should have done this before,” Hongjoong said as he kept the same steady pace, thrusting into you, small whimpers and moans leaving your lips. “Should have fucked your precious Blossom on that altar right in front of you. Impregnated her and sent her on her way. Let her raise my child alone.”

Seonghwa felt his blood boil as Hongjoong spoke. “Maybe I’ll do that now. Impregnate your wife and make you raise my child. Would you like that? You want a family so bad, right?” Hongjoong asked with a laugh. You let out a louder moan. Hongjoong pulled out of you, gently rolling you onto your stomach. He grabbed your hips, tucking a pillow under it before sinking back into you.

“Is this how you fuck her?” he asked Seonghwa who could no longer hold back the tears. “You bend her over like this and fuck her until you fill her up? She likes it rough, doesn’t she?” he asked. Seonghwa glared at Hongjoong and if looks could kill, Hongjoong would probably be dead.

He let out another laugh, picking up the pace as he pounded into you. Wanton moans left your lips as his cock pistoned in and out of your abused hole. “Bet she likes it when you stuff her full of cum,” Hongjoong grunted as he placed a hand on the back of your head, pushing your head down into the linens. “Likes it when you empty your balls into her. Do you talk to her while you do it? Tell her how you’re gonna fill her up and put a baby in her?” Hongjoong asked, his hips slamming into you now.

“Do you cum multiple times? Fill her up as much as possible? Until it leaks out of her and spills down the inside of her thighs? Do you hold her down and tell her to take all of it?” Seonghwa blinked, tears streaming down his cheeks and staining the torn curtain that was his makeshift gag.

“I wonder why she isn’t pregnant yet,” Hongjoong mused as he continued to thrust into you, holding you down as his hips bruised your ass with each forceful thrust. “Maybe you’re not as fertile as you once were,” he continued. “Maybe you need my sperm to start a family.”

Seonghwa twisted in the chair as Hongjoong continued. Your moans grew in pitch as Hongjoong pounded into you. His hand disappeared under your head and pulled you up out of the sheets. “Let him hear you, blossom,” Hongjoong said breathlessly in your ear. Seonghwa struggled against the bonds. “Let him hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Without the sheets to muffle you, moans and screams of pleasure left your lips. “That’s right,” Hongjoong growled as he slammed into you. “I’m making you feel this good. Not him. Has he ever made it feel this good?” Seonghwa thrashed against his bonds. “Oh, I think I’m gonna cum,” Hongjoong groaned into your ear. “You want it inside you, kitten? Want me to fill you up just like he does?”

You moaned loudly as Hongjoong’s hips never faltered. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear. “Cum for me. Show him what you look like when you cum on another man’s cock.”

Seonghwa watched through tears as your body shook, your orgasm washing over you, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips before your body went limp. Hongjoong kept a tight hold on you, his hips now chasing his own high. Seonghwa watched defeatedly as Hongjoong thrust into you a few more times before letting out a low moan, hips stilling as he came, filling you and painting your walls in his release.

His tears hadn’t stopped as Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts, pushing his cum deeper inside you before he pulled out, letting your limp body fall onto the bed, your slumber never once breaking. Hongjoong stumbled off the bed, making his way over to where Seonghwa sat. He crouched down, looking up at Seonghwa as his head hung in defeat, tears still spilling from him.

Hongjoong stood up and grabbed Seonghwa by the hair, pulling his head back to look up at him. “It’s not that bad,” Hongjoong said as he untied the gag and pulled the wet strip of curtain from his face. Seonghwa spat out the wadded up piece of cloth and glared up at the demon. “You’re fucking despicable,” he snapped. “Truly and utterly disgusting.”

Hongjoong smirked as he leaned down, bringing his face level with Seonghwa’s. “Am I?” he asked. He glanced down. “If I’m disgusting, what does that make you?” he asked, his hand moving over the erection in Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa tried to squirm away from the demon. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat. Hongjoong’s grip on his hair tightened. “Behave,” the demon hissed.

Seonghwa stopped fighting and went rigid as Hongjoong’s hand ghosted over his hard cock. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Hongjoong asked, looking into Seonghwa’s eyes. “Watching me fuck your wife. You really liked it,” he said, his hand slipping into Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa squirmed under him as Hongjoong’s hand gripped him over his underwear.

“Do you want me to relieve you or do you want her to do it?” Hongjoong asked. “Actually,” the demon said. He let go of Seonghwa and moved to the bed, leaning over to whisper something in your ear. Seonghwa watched as you started to stir, rolling onto your side and crawling to the edge of the bed. Hongjoong helped you off the bed and guided you over to where Seonghwa sat.

“On your knees, kitten,” Hongjoong instructed. You did as he said almost as if you were in a trance. “Here, let’s get this out of the way,” Hongjoong said, grabbing the waistband of Seonghwa’s pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, watching as Seonghwa’s erection sprang free.

“Oh, there’s more to you than meets the eye,” Hongjoong said with a chuckle as he eyed Seonghwa. Tearing his gaze away and knelt behind you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “That looks uncomfortable,” he said, gently caressing your cheek. “We should relieve him. Open your mouth, kitten.” Seonghwa looked away as you did so. Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair as he guided your head towards Seonghwa’s cock.

Seonghwa let out a strangled moan as he felt your mouth envelope his cock. Hongjoong kept a firm hold on your head, pushing you down on Seonghwa’s cock. “Open your throat,” Hongjoong instructed. “Just like you did for me. Let him in, baby.” Seonghwa glared at the demon. “Don’t you fucking call her that,” he growled, an involuntary moan leaving his lips as his cock slid into your throat.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong asked. He guided your head, fucking Seonghwa’s cock with your mouth. “Keep going, sweetheart. He likes it. He really likes it,” he continued, smirking at Seonghwa’s reaction. “F-fuck,” Seonghwa cursed, head falling back against the chair.

“More?” Hongjoong asked. Without waiting for his answer, Hongjoong forced your head to move faster. Seonghwa groaned, hips bucking up into your face. Hongjoong held your head still. “Go ahead,” Hongjoong said. “Fuck her face. She loved it when I did that.” Seonghwa shook his head. “No,” he said breathlessly. “Do it,” Hongjoong urged. Seonghwa refused again, shaking his head. “No. I won’t.”

The demon’s brow furrowed as he pushed your head down, forcing Seonghwa’s cock into your throat. “Either you fuck her mouth or I’ll take over and make you cum myself.” Seonghwa groaned and reluctantly did as he said, hips bucking up into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Hongjoong held your head in place as Seonghwa chased his own high, letting out strained moans and whimpers until he let out a strangled groan. Hongjoong pushed your head down, Seonghwa cock sliding into your throat as he came, his cock twitching, his release spilling down your throat.

Hongjoong held you still as Seonghwa’s hips bucked weakly until he fell limp. Only then did Hongjoong pull you back, muttering praise in your ear as you coughed and gasped. He guided you back to the bed before moving to pick up the clothes he’d taken from the closet. Once he was dressed he walked over to where Seonghwa sat and slowly undid his bonds.

“Consider us even,” Hongjoong said as he dropped the torn bits of curtain to the floor. He walked over to the balcony door, glancing out into the rain. He could see glowing red eyes out in the trees and knew the hounds had found him. “One last thing,” he said over his shoulder as he undid the latch on the doors and turned the knob, opening one, the sound of rain becoming louder.

“Take care of your family.”

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