#and being so desperate to get out when they take over

[lymtw]

Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see the his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.

Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.

"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.

"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."

He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.

"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you, intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.

"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.

Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.

Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.

"What else do you want from me, doll?"

You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.

"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.

"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.

"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.

"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."

You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."

You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.

"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."

"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.

"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"

Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.

"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.

He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.

Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.

You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."

He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."

Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.

"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."

He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.

"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."

"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.

"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."

You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."

"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.

You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.

"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.

"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"

He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.

"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.

"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.

This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.

You were wrong.

Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.

To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.

Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.

He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.

Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.

"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.

"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.

"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.

His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.

"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.

"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"

You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."

He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.

"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.

He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.

"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.

"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.

"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.

"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.

"Mm-mm, this is good."

It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.

He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.

"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.

Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.

You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.

"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.

"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."

"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.

"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.

You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.

"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."

"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.

"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.

His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.

"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."

"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.

"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."

You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."

He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.

"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.

He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.

One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.

You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."

"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.

Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.

You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.

"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."

"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.

"No. Please."

"In a minute," he repeats.

"Pretty please?"

"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.

"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.

Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.

"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"

You hum, nodding your head.

"Yes?"

"Please, yes."

His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.

"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."

"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer.nYou whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.

"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"

A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.

You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.

"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.

"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.

You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.

Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.

Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.

You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this is many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.

"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.

He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."

You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"

"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:

"I wouldn't be able to tell you."

He chuckles. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."

"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"

You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."

He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.

You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.

[moonlight-prose]

a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life

a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

word count: 3k+

pairing: old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.

He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.

He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.

Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.

Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.

He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?

Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.

It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.

Until you said his name.

Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.

You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.

After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.

His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.

He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.

"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.

The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.

Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.

Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.

His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.

He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.

So slick. So perfect.

Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"

Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."

His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.

If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.

When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.

"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.

His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.

He couldn't live without it.

"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.

The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.

He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.

Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.

"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."

You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."

The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.

"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Take care of what belongs to me."

There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.

The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.

Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.

"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."

He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.

"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.

Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.

You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.

"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."

His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum."

His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.

He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.

Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.

That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.

Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.

So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.

"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.

You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.

He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.

"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."

"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.

You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.

"It hurts-"

A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"

You shook your head. "B-But-"

"Thought you said it was good."

"It is."

"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.

He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.

But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.

The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.

He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.

You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.

How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?

"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."

The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.

Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.

"Oh-"

Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.

He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.

He could finally be the man you believed he was.

Not the animal they created.

"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.

A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.

Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."

His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.

You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.

"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."

The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.

"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."

You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."

Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.

The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.

The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.

Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.

On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!

It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.

So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.

Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.

He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.

...

Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.

He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.

His head hurts.

"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.

Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.

The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.

A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.

Then, he appears.

It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.

“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”

His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.

The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.

"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"

That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.

It's not real.

It's not real.

It's not-

"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.

The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.

And new.

Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.

The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.

Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.

"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”

Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”

“You could say yes.”

“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”

He seems to have taken the being by surprise.

It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”

“Did you just make up that name?”

The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."

That last sentence had given away more than it should have.

"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.

Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."

He needed a break.

...

And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.

After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.

But that's another story.

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[bamfkeeper]

Winter Coat.

RQ: 'Saw your requests were open and I've gone through like 99% of your works so I just HAD to toss in a request (which, absolutely take your time on btw, I completely understand the burnout that can happen at the drop of a dime). I'm so impatient when it comes to weather and seasons that I desperately need it to be chilly autumn already. I'm sure you seen it but that one post about Kurt getting fluffier during autumn/winter got my gears turning. What do you think his reaction would be to a GN reader warming their hands in his fur? (Bonus prompt if reader can somehow get past all that lovely fur and touch his skin with freezing fingers ∩ω∩)' - @casualeylee

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: Slightly suggestive themes

A/N: I love the idea of him growing longer fur so I enjoyed this a lot. Quick little drabble for the upcoming cool months! I have a few requests for his fur, which was sweet to see, I adore him fuzzy. I hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k

"Mein Gott, your hands are freezing, liebling," Kurt remarked with concern, his gaze settling on your hand as it awkwardly intertwined with his own. You sighed contentedly, leaning closer to him for warmth as the two of you strolled leisurely around the dying garden of the mansion. The once vibrant blooms were now succumbing to the colder weather, which was taking its toll on the plants. Yet, despite the garden's current state, you found yourself looking forward to the cold months ahead and the festive holidays they would bring.

"I know, I'm sorry," you admitted sheepishly, glancing up at him with a hint of regret. "I should've worn the mittens you told me to put on before we left..." You pouted slightly, chastising yourself for being so stubborn earlier. Kurt chuckled softly at your demeanor, his little smirk spreading warmth through you and making you shiver, though not from the cold. His amusement was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile back.

Kurt's tail gently ran under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, holding you even closer as you walked together through the chilly evening air. You couldn't help but notice how his tail felt slightly more fuzzy than usual, prompting your free hand to naturally reach out and stroke the soft fur. "Are you getting fuzzier?" you questioned with curiosity, suddenly eying his face and observing that his jaw seemed to have longer fur too, as if preparing for the colder months ahead.

"Ja, I get a thicker coat when it gets cold...you complain about my fuzz now, just wait until I have a full-on winter coat and I am shedding all over your favorite sweaters!" he laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the thought of you dealing with a living room filled with his fur. The idea of him shedding more fur made you smile, envisioning the playful challenge it might bring. Even if it meant a bit of extra cleaning during the winter season.

"Your hand still feels cold, liebe," Kurt observed with concern, his eyes filled with the usual warmth as he looked down at you. Gently, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I think our walk is done...you are going to freeze out here if we stay any longer," he stated with a hint of urgency in his voice. Not wanting you to endure the cold any further, he effortlessly teleported you both inside the expansive mansion, determined to stop your shivering.

Now, you found yourself comfortably seated on the plush couch in your shared bedroom. The luxurious room was spacious, adorned with elegant furnishings, and boasted a charming small fireplace that crackled softly. Only the older X-Men were privileged enough to have a room this nice, making you feel incredibly lucky, especially when you were currently shaking off the cold. As you sat in front of the gently flickering fire, its warmth slowly seeping into your chilled bones, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of happiness.

Kurt teleported back into the room with a soft purple haze enveloping him, his tail flicked away any remaining cloud as he walked over to you. He gently sat down beside you on the couch, causing the blanket that was draped around your shoulders to slip slightly as he made himself comfortable. He placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the small table beside the couch, its warmth and aroma inviting. “I made it just how you like.” Kurt noted and left it to cool off for a minute. You gave him a soft smile at the gesture, he always knew what to do to make you feel loved. He always went above what he needed to do, and that was one of the things you loved about him.

Kurt leaned back and went to wrap his arm around you, intending on pulling you closer to him to offer extra warmth to you before he paused. "Oh," he remarked thoughtfully, humming to himself and leaning back a bit to look at you, "Skin on fur might help..." With a slight shuffle, he began to remove his top, revealing his abdomen and chest. As he did so, you noticed that his skin had also grown more fuzzy.

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of curiosity and admiration as you couldn't help yourself from eying his chest and abdomen. He stood before you, his attractive physique lean and toned, each muscle defined under the light from the fireplace. The fur that covered his body looked incredibly soft, inviting, you needed to have your hands on him. It was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull you felt towards his body at that moment. “Ah…you are growing a lot more already,” you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with an undertone of need. With a sense of awe and hesitancy, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they made contact with his warm skin. Slowly, you let your hand trail up, starting from his belly button and moving upwards to his chest.

You swallowed nervously, feeling the firm and defined muscles beneath his soft fur, and as you did, you began to have some difficulty controlling your thoughts, which started to wander in unexpected directions. Kurt laid his hand gently over yours as you felt the warmth of his chest, his intense yellow eyes fixed on you with a playful grin. “Naughty…I know what you’re thinking. You always get this look in your eye…sinner,” he said with a teasing tone, his voice low and playful. His words and the cheeky way he spoke made your face heat up even more, feeling more flustered since you were practically feeling him up.

"Shut up...your fur is really warm on my hands...that's all." You muttered embarrassingly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands continuing to slowly rub his chest and feel the fur there. It was so incredibly soft, the longer bits curled around your skin, inviting your nosy fingertips to dig even farther into his fur, seeking more warmth and comfort in every stroke.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked with a slight smirk, sitting still as you explored him with that stupid grin, allowing you to continue your gentle exploration. He opened his mouth for another teasing comment, but his breath hitched quickly as your freezing fingers unexpectedly found their way to his skin. "Ach...- Liebling..." he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and endearment.

"What? Did I find something?" you asked with a mischievous grin, your turn to be cheeky now. You intentionally let your fingers wander over his skin, which was so incredibly, so wonderfully warm. With a playful determination, you weaseled your hands against his skin, feeling the contrast of your cool touch against his heat. Snuggling even closer to him, you couldn't help but smile as Kurt laughed and squirmed a little from the unexpected cold sensation of your fingers dancing across his body.

"The things I let you do to me..." he huffed, though there was a fondness in his voice, as he held you even closer to him. His arms and tail wrapped securely around your body, pulling you into a protective and affectionate embrace. While he often teases you relentlessly, it's always in good fun, because at the end of the day, he truly loves you. He is more than willing to suffer through the icy touch of your fingertips against his warm, sensitive, ticklish skin, as long as it brings a smile to your face and you enjoy every moment of it.

"Ach! Liebe!" he exclaimed, jerking up slightly in surprise as you playfully moved your fingertips to the sensitive sides of his ribcage. His reaction was both amusing and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle at how it caught him off guard.

He looked down with a soft, affectionate smile, acknowledging your mischievousness with a twinkle in his eyes. "Cheeky thing..."

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover image: Nick Robles art credit, other images Pinterest.

[tpwk-formula1]

Lando, Sicilian Crust, Red Sauce, Pepperoni, Tomatoes, Mushrooms, Coke, Root beer, Lemonade, Sparkling Water.

But the scenario is the readers got thick thighs, and she’s a little chubby (coming from a chubby girl🥹), she’s constantly talking down on her self and insecure. And lando won’t have it, so he is desperate to make her feel better about herself. (Make sex in front of a mirror?) 

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating red sauce rough sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" mushrooms "Wrong, wanna try again" coke spanking root beer daddy kink lemonade body worship sparkling water spitting dessert yes served by Lando Norris

AN - Omg yay! I loved getting this request as I am also a fellow chubby girl! If anyone else has plus size requests please send them in as I am passionate about wanting there to be representation for everyone <3 Lee-Lee

TW - spanking, spitting into mouth, blow job, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, some degrading terms, body worship and appreciation

WC

Y/N POV

I groan again while staring into the mirror. I knew I wasn't the ideal wag and I will never understand why Lando had picked me. The reflection in the mirror showed me a girl with thighs that touched, wide-set hips, and a belly that most people made sure to point out in the comment section of any photos released of me.

I stare a few more seconds before I start pinching at my sides trying to see how soft they had grown over the past few months. I feel the tears well in my eyes when I realize nothing is changing. I had tried dieting but then after a few weeks and a couple pounds down I find myself giving up again.

I'm so lost in my own world of self-hatred I don't hear Lando come home and I sure as hell don't hear him come into the bathroom leaving again the door frame with his arms crossed.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lando suddenly announces making me jump slightly and wrap my arms around my body to try and hide still embarrassed at being caught.

"Lando, I- I was just getting ready for the day," I lie softly not even believing myself. Lando raises a brow at me before approaching making me step back slightly. When Lando reaches me he softly removes my arms from my body just eying me up and down. I feel myself growing red in embarrassment not enjoying the feeling of his eyes on my bare body.

Wordlessly Lando takes my hips into his hands gently squeezing them before turning me towards the mirror so I can stare at myself. With Lando standing behind my I feel his arms wrapped around my hips while starting to trail his hands up and down in admiration.

"So beautiful," Lando mumbles softly placing a soft kiss on my should. I try my best to keep eye contact with Lando not wanting to see my body against his touch knowing my thighs would dwarf his wandering hands.

"I love you," Lando says softly starting to trail kisses around my shoulders and the back of my neck making my breathing pick up.

"So fucking beautiful," Lando says while pinching my hip softly before rubbing it in a soothing manner.

"Watch yourself in the mirror," Lando says roughly making my eyes instantly snap to where his hand is now wandering up my sides grazes his touch past my stomach roll before settling his hands near my face.

When his fingers graze my lips he mutters a soft beautiful before trailing his hands to my heavy tits giving them a stong squeeze making me gaso.

"These tits are gonna be the death of me one day, so fucking good," Lando says confidently giving one of my nipples a soft flick instantly making it harden.

"And this," Lando started while rubbing my stomach softly making me cringe away from his touch making him drop his hands to his sides and stare at me in the mirror.

"Wrong, wanna try again," Lando says after a moment before bringing his hands back to my stomach this time trying to relax into his touch.

"This stomach you love to pinch and probe at, will one day carry our children. That thought alone makes me hard," Lando says softly making me gasp when he grinds his jean-covered crotch into my thick ass letting me know just the sight of me turned him on.

"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," Lando adds softly moving his hands down to my thighs giving them a soft rub before landing a soft slap on them making me whine.

"And these fucking thighs! My favorite thing in the world. After a good race, I just wanna burry my face between them, after a bad race I can't wait to get back to the hotel to hide between them and let all my problems away, these are the best thing the Lord could have blessed me with," Lando says softly while rubbing them. He was back to laying soft kisses around my neck before I feel his teeth sink into the side of my neck before leaving a small hickey.

"Oh! And this fucking pussy," Lando says softly digging his fingers through my folds finding them to be coated in a light layer of my juices. Having Lando softly rubbing his hands around my body had definitely turned me on a bit.

"This pussy and the best pussy a man could have. Too bad I will never share it again," Lando says softly before lifting my thigh and resting my foot on the counter so he can burry his fingers into my pussy making me gasp and throw my head back onto Lando's shoulder when he hits my G-spot.

"Feels so good," I whine softly clenching around Lando's fingers before they're ripped out of my pussy leaving me gasping for a breath,

"No daddy," I whine not wanting him to stop.

"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want. Count them for me," Lando says roughly letting me know he was about to spank me.

The first slap rang out through the room startling me just a bit.

"one" i mumble softly.

"two" I groan a little louder after the second much harsher slap landed on my left ass cheek.

"I love the way your ass shakes when I slap it," Lando said before landing another rough slap on the exact same spot making me scream out softly.

"three," I finally gasp out still trying to catch my breath.

"four," I scream out with the fourth slap lands on the top of my right ass cheek.

"Last one," Lando says softly while rubbing his hand over the last spank he had landed.

"Five, oh my god," I scream while my knees buckle only staying up because of Lando's strong grip. The last one was always the hardest one but today it was so much harder than normal. It knocked the wind out of me in shock.

"Did so good for me. Took your punishment so well baby," Lando says softly turning me around to give me a soft kiss.

"Open," lando says roughly cleaning moving from punishment mode to 'I ned to fuck you right now' mode.

When I part my lips and open my mouth I wait as Lando gather s a bit of spit before spitting right down my throat some hitting my bottom lip making me moan before swallowing.

"Good girl," Lando says before flipping me back to look at myself in the mirror again. Lando was still fully dressed which changed rather quickly cause he started stripping down not having any time to waste.

When I feel Lando poking at my folds I moan softly while pushing my hips back trying to get some kind of stimulation which finally came when Lando roughly sunk down fully into me.

"Oh god," I moan out when his hips hit my sore ass making the the slight burning sensation instantly turn from pain to pleasure.

“It’s too much, daddy,” I moan when Lando speeds up his thrusting making me grip onto the counter harder to make sure I don’t fall.

“Watch the mirror, I want you to see how beautiful you are,” Lando grunts while reaching between our bodies to find my swollen clit to give it a few pinches before rubbing it in circles.

“God, you have the wettest fucking pussy, baby girl,” Lando groans collectiving some on his fingers before bringing his wet fingers to his mouth and cleaning them off while moaning at the flavor.

“You’re fucking delicious baby,” Lando whispers while bringing his fingers back to my clit making me instantly tense around Lando’s cock in anticipation of an orgasm.

“Can I cum,” I moan feeling my orgasm approaching making Lando speed up his actions, and throwing me off the edge and into a knee buckling orgasm as soon as he have me the go ahead.

“Fuck daddy,” I scream out as I feel the peak of my orgasm hit, making the world around me go dark slightly letting my body feel all of the pleasure coursing through my body. Lando helps me ride out the longest orgasm I’ve ever had before softly slipping out of my pussy making me whine from overstimulation.

“On you knees,” Lando grunts making me turn around and drop to my knees and instantly reach for his cock but he pulls away while shaking his head.

“I need you to listen to me real quick,” Lando says making me nod and trail my eyes from his soaked cock up to his eyes to show he has my full attention.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You have been my best friend our entire relationship and I have loved every aspect of who you are. So I’ll be damned if you hate even the smallest speck on yourself when all I can ever fucking see is perfection,” Lando tells me softly making me smile back at him.

“It’s just hard sometimes. I see the girls who would do anything for even a second of your times. I see the other wags and can’t help but compare. And i see the comments, i know you see them too and while even if I was skinny they would still find a reason to be dicks it’s just hard sometimes,” I tell him softly making him scoff each time I compared myself to someone else but watched as his eyes softened at the mention of the comments.

“All Im saying is I better not come back home to find you pinching your sides or damn near in tears at the sight you see in the mirror,” Lando says back making me nod my head.

“Daddy can I please finish you off now,” I whine getting impatient with staring at his hard cock. Lando just chuckles before stepping closer and leaning down slightly to spit in my mouth again. I savor the flavor this time before swallowing his spit.

When I open my mouth again Lando instantly shoves his cock down my throat making me gag slightly.

“Prettiest fucking slut Ive ever laid eyes on.” Lando groans still on his complimenting run but too lost in the pleasure to not throw in some teasing nicknames.

I feel Lando’s pace start to falter which makes me bob my head faster wanting to keep the same momentum as he starts cumming down my throat.

I do my best to swallow every drop he gives me before he’s slowly pulling out if my mouth. I feel a bit of cum leak down the side of my lips and before I can wipe it away Lando is crashing his lips onto mine now caring about the cum.

“I love you so much! Be nice to yourself,” Lando tells me softly making me nod my head in agreement.

When Lando helps me from the cold ground he draws us a bath. When we both sink into the hot water I can see the stress of the day melt away for Labdo while I i feel all my tense muscles slowly start to relax.

“What triggered it?” Lando asked softly.

“I was getting ready to take a shower and kinda got lost,” i replied back softly making Lando wrap his arms around me a little tighter.

“M’sorry I wasn’t here early to prevent it,” he tells me while leaning down to place a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Wasnt your fault,” I reply back shrugging a little. We both know I would do it again but I also knew it didn’t matter to Lando cause I was always gonna be his girl.

[svt-luna]

hi! i really adore each member’s dynamic with luna 🫶 can i request for a chapter where the group’s over protectiveness comes to action when it comes to luna? it can be any member you prefer. thank you!

(pls keep on writing i really love ur blog 🤗)

ᡴꪫ ⋆ All EYES ON HER: SEVENTEEN’S ULTIMATE PROTECTIVE MOMENTS ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…

synopsis: A compilation on the countless times the members have fiercely protected Luna, proving that anyone who messes with her has an entire team to answer to.

hello!! I apologize for taking so long with this request, it took a long time for me to get to it but finally, it’s here now. you didn’t specify what kind I should do, so I decided on a youtube compilation instead, I hope you don’t mind! happy reading, my loves 🤍💛

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ youtube compilations

[added captions are in brackets] ᡣ𐭩

bold dialogues are spoken in english ᡣ𐭩

indented italics are additional voice overs ᡣ𐭩

Ah yes, folks, welcome to this episode of ‘How SEVENTEEN is Basically Luna’s Private Army at This Point.’

I mean, if you didn’t already know, our girl Luna isn’t just the 14th member of SEVENTEEN— no, no, she’s also the epitome of princess treatment.

Miss thing, is protected by her 13 bodyguards… I mean, bandmates.

I cannot stress this enough… the amount of times these guys circle around her like she’s made of glass is honestly a whole genre of content at this point.

You’d think they signed a secret contract that says, ‘Thou shalt not let Luna so much as trip on a pebble or breathe near a stalker without at least five of us nose-diving in front of her.’

I’m starting to think they all have a group chat where their one goal is: ‘Keep Luna safe. At all costs.’ I mean, the devotion is real, people.

Anyway, buckle up because we’re diving into SEVENTEEN’s ultimate protective moments over the years. From stage accidents to creepy fan encounters— these boys do it all. *swoons*

So grab your popcorn, maybe a tissue, and get ready to witness Luna being treated like the literal K-pop princess that she is.

LUNA’S AIRPORT SASAENG INCIDENT

I feel like this video itself just shows you how much the members are super protective of Luna.

On a side note, y’all weirdos really need to leave them the fuck alone

The airport was abuzz with the usual energy that seemed to follow SEVENTEEN everywhere they went. Fans had gathered on the other side of the barricades, screaming, phones flashing, as they tried to capture every moment of the members’ journey to the gate.

It was early— too early for most of the members to be anything but a little groggy. They had a long flight ahead to Seattle for their ‘Be the Sun’ tour concert, and it showed in the occasional yawn, tired smiles, and slow movements as they waited in line to enter their gate.

Luna stood in the middle of the line, nestled between Wonwoo, who was in front of her, and Seungcheol, who lingered protectively behind.

[In just a few seconds you guys would see how Choi Seungcheol became my bias]

[on a side note… look how hot he looks 😩 DADDY!]

Luna was chatting quietly with Wonwoo about the new show she was watching late last night, her voice calm as she ran through the reason why she got zero sleep.

Everything felt routine.

The members bowed and waved occasionally to the fans and cameras across the barricades, but it was all in the usual ebb and flow of their lives on tour. There was nothing unusual about the morning, just the soft hum of their conversations and the distant screams of their loyal Carats.

[I love how they still try their best to greet Carats despite being so tired 🥹]

And then it happened.

In the middle of her sentence, Luna was cut off by the sound of a man’s voice— a deep, rough yell from somewhere beyond the barricade. He was shouting her name, which wasn’t entirely strange. Fans often called out to her, but there was something different in the way this man shouted. It wasn’t the excited, breathless tone of a fan. It was urgent, desperate, and far too aggressive.

[guys I’m being so fr rn, this clip till this day pisses me the fuck off]

Before Luna or anyone else could process what was happening, there was a sudden movement from their side.

Out of nowhere, the man broke past security and somehow made it too close, far closer than any fan should’ve been allowed. He wasn’t behind the barricades anymore— he was there, within arm’s reach of the members.

[LOOK AT THIS FUCKING BUM]

[If I see him istg it’s on sight]

[I didn’t bother blurring his face cause… why should I?!]

The air around them shifted, the fans behind the barricades screaming in shock, but it was too late. Luna didn’t have time to turn and see him before she felt it.

A tight grip suddenly clamped down on her right arm.

It was jarring, a harsh pull that yanked her back, shocking her out of the moment. The man— eyes wild and frantic— was tugging her towards him, shouting about how much he loved her. “Luna, Jiyeon-ah! You don’t understand, I love you! I’m in love with you! I need you to know! I’m obsessed with you!”

[yeah we can tell, loser]

Luna’s breath hitched in her throat. The world around her blurred as the fans screamed louder, their voices tinged with panic. For a split second, her brain froze, and she couldn’t fully process what was happening. The man’s hand was too tight, too rough, and before she could pull away, she felt herself being dragged towards him.

[look at her face, motherfucker! look at how scared she looks]

[TWICE HER SIZE AND HE FUCKING YANKS HER]

But then, in an instant, everything shifted again.

Before Luna could even react, she felt a firm grip around her waist— a strong, grounding force pulling her back from the man’s grasp.

[IT’S THE SPEED!! IT WAS THE WAY HE REACTED!!]

[CHEOLIE’S REFLEXES ARE NEXT LEVEL]

[🫠🫠🫠]

Seungcheol, who had been just behind her, moved like a flash, his expression steely as his arm looped securely around her. His fingers pressed tightly against her waist, holding her in place, but his other hand wasn’t idle. With a swift, practiced motion, Seungcheol reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, yanking it away from Luna with more strength than the man had anticipated.

“Let go.” Seungcheol’s voice was firm, sharp with authority but calm, almost dangerously calm, as he shoved the man’s hand off her with little effort.

[GOODBYE WORLD]

[I– no words… there are no words]

[Honestly, if I were that sasaeng, I’d just tell my heart to stop right then and there]

[Choi Seungcheol is scary wbk]

At the same time, Wonwoo had spun around, his eyes dark with alarm. His hand immediately found Luna’s, grasping her left hand firmly as he pulled her back to safety, away from the chaos. The sudden switch from casual conversation to this whirlwind of confusion sent a surge of adrenaline through him. His usually stoic face was a mixture of concern and anger as he held Luna’s hand tighter, making sure she wasn’t being pulled any further.

[brb I’m gonna cry]

[Wonwoo was holding onto her for dear life]

The sasaeng stumbled backward as Seungcheol released him, but it wasn’t over yet.

The moment Seungcheol tore the man’s hand off Luna’s arm, the rest of the members immediately closed in, surrounding her like a protective shield.

[They look so worried 🥺]

[Jiyeon is so loved]

Security finally rushed in, grabbing the man and pulling him away from the members, the fans still screaming in horror and disbelief at what had just unfolded.

[Also what took y’all so fucking long 😠]

Seungcheol barely had time to check her well-being before he was pushed back into action, taking control of the situation as the leader.

As the fans continued to scream in both shock and confusion, Jeonghan was by Luna’s side in an instant, his face painted with worry. His hand hovered near her shoulder as he looked her over, asking softly, “Are you okay?” before Mingyu stepped up beside him, eyes scanning her for any sign of distress.

“I’m okay,” Luna nodded as she shook caressed the now red flesh of her right arm.

[MY PRONOUNS ARE J.E.O.N.G.N.A RAHHHH]

The members formed a tight circle around her, creating a barrier between Luna and the crowd as they took turns asking her if she was alright. Jeonghan, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Dino, Wonwoo, and Dokyeom stood close, their faces unusually serious, while Minghao, Joshua, and Vernon kept a vigilant eye on the situation, making sure no one else could get close. Even Woozi, Jun, and Hoshi, who had been half-asleep just moments ago, were now alert and focused, standing protectively near her.

[they baracaded her real fast]

[THIS IS HOW THE SECRET SERVICE REACTS WHEN THERE IS A THREAT TO THE FUCKING PRESIDENT]

[WE LOVE TO SEE IT]

Luna, is still in shock. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind still trying to catch up with what had just happened. The touch of the man’s rough hand still lingered on her skin, but the warmth and safety of her members anchored her in the present, pulling her out of the chaos and fear.

Meanwhile, off to the side, fans caught a glimpse of Seungcheol in full leader mode, visibly angry as he appeared to scold their security team.

[HE IS SO FUCKING HOT FOR THIS 🥵]

[THIS👏 MAN 👏 DOESN’T 👏 PLAY 👏 WHEN 👏 IT 👏 COMES 👏 TO 👏 HIS 👏 MEMBERS]

Seungcheol’s body language was sharp and commanding, hands gesturing firmly as he instructed them on how to handle the situation. No one could hear exactly what he was saying, but it was clear from his tone and expression that he was furious. His jaw clenched, his eyes steely, he pointed toward the barricades and the area where the man had broken through, making sure there would be no more mistakes.

[blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name…]

[What I’d give to hear what he’s saying rn]

Fans watching from the other side couldn’t help but be struck by how protective and authoritative he was, silently appreciating the way SEVENTEEN took care of their own.

Once all that was taken care of, Seungcheol finally turned back and glanced down at Luna, his voice now softer but still firm. “You okay?” His eyes scanned her for any signs of distress or injury as he gently caressed her arm, his brows furrowed with concern.

[WHERE DO YOU GET A MAN LIKE THIS?!]

[I’m in love with him it’s not funny anymore 😔]

Luna nodded slowly, though her heart was still racing. “I’m okay, Cheolie… thank you,” she managed to whisper, her voice shaky but steadying.

“Thank you, Wonwoo oppa,” Luna turned to the man next to her who gave her a silent not, clearly still disturbed.

But Seungcheol wasn’t fully convinced she was fine… none of the members did. They could tell from how she twisted the rings on her fingers.

Seungcheol placed his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close as they moved forward, ensuring she was safe and that the man was well out of reach. Meanwhile, the rest of the members hovered around her. Jeonghan was beside her, now holding her hand, his grip tight and his presence still solid and reassuring.

[HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE JEONGNA]

[the way Cheol and Han kept holding her till they entered their gate 🥹]

The fans, who had just witnessed the entire event, were still in a state of shock, but now their screams had shifted. Instead of panic, there were chants of Luna’s name, filled with concern and admiration for how the members especially Seungcheol and Wonwoo had handled the situation.

It was only then, as the adrenaline began to fade, that Luna realized just how much she had been relying on them. Without them, without their quick thinking and protective instincts, she didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened.

‘FEAR’ WARDROBE MALFUNCTION IN JAPAN

The concert in Japan was in full swing, the arena lights flashing to the heavy beat of SEVENTEEN’s ‘Fear’ as they performed for thousands of cheering fans.

[Another one of my favorite clips, ladies and gentlemen]

The energy in the air was electric, the members synchronized perfectly with their intense choreography and sharp vocals. Luna was in the center of the stage, dressed in a sleek black attire that matched the rest of the members— black leather pants that accentuated her legs accompanied by a black sleeveless top with a zipper running down the back.

[MOM LOOKS HOT BTW 🥵]

The moment was flawless— until it wasn’t.

In the midst of a spin, as she did the choreography with the rest of the members, Luna felt the distinct sensation of her zipper giving way.

A chill ran down her spine as the entire back of her top unzipped, fully exposing her skin. Her black top was now hanging loose, barely held together by the fabric at the front.

But Luna, ever the professional, didn’t miss a beat. Her face remained fierce and intense, completely matching the dark, brooding mood of the song. Not a flicker of panic crossed her expression as she continued to sing, her voice steady, her movements sharp. Her body flowed with the choreography as if nothing was wrong, even though her mind was racing.

[her top was literally hanging by a thread]

[I don’t know how she does it. I would have panicked]

[It’s a good thing the zipper was at her back 🫥]

Some of the members noticed almost immediately. Being behind her in the formation, they had a clear view of her exposed back. Hoshi, who was a few steps to the side, caught a glimpse of her loose top during a turn, his eyes widening slightly in realization— however, he was a few steps too far to do anything about it.

Just as they transitioned to another part of the routine, Luna shifted her glance to the side and locked eyes with Dokyeom, who was right behind her. His eyes were filled with concern, his expression subtle but clear— her back was fully exposed, and they needed to fix it.

Luna, ever so composed, gave him a single, almost imperceptible nod. The kind of nod only someone who knew her well could catch. It was all she needed to convey her understanding.

[Again, it amazes me how fast they pulled this off]

[it took me like five times to understand how DK did it]

[Watch Dokyeomie closely]

Dokyeom, without hesitation, stepped into action while maintaining the choreography flawlessly. As they moved through the next steps, their bodies swayed and spun in perfect sync with the music, but every move was calculated.

Luna, still dancing and keeping her facial expression strong, swept her long hair from the back to the front in one fluid motion, letting it cascade over her shoulder. She exposed her bare back fully to Dokyeom, who was quick to react.

[HOT 🥵 HOT 🥵 HOT 🥵]

[maybe that’s why it’s so hard to catch DK zipping her up… Jiyeonie is too distracting]

With the precision and speed that only a professional dancer could pull off, Dokyeom zipped up the back of her top as if it were part of the routine. His fingers worked fast, pulling the zipper up in one smooth, swift motion while simultaneously stepping to the side, his feet moving in perfect time with the beat.

To any fan watching from the crowd, it would have looked like just another part of the choreography, so seamless was their execution. Luna barely flinched, continuing to sing with full power, her movements never faltering as she danced across the stage. The members around them barely blinked; they had seen what happened and knew the situation was under control.

[LIKE— WHAT?!]

[one minute her back was fully exposed and the next no skin at all!!?]

[THAT’S TALENT RIGHT THERE 👏👏👏]

The arena was still filled with flashing lights and screaming fans, but among them, some of the more eagle-eyed fans caught the moment on their phones. Every angle of the stage showed Dokyeom's swift actions and Luna's incredible poise. Twitter was already lighting up with comments about how professional they were.

As the final chorus hit, Luna and Dokyeom made eye contact once more. Luna, still keeping in character, mouthed a soft, “Thank you,” barely visible to the cameras, but enough for Dokyeom to see. He gave her a quick wink and a nod, his lips curling up into a small, reassuring smile before they both turned their attention back to the performance, moving seamlessly into the final formation.

[I want to be so good at something that I am this casual on stage]

From that point forward, no one would have guessed anything had gone wrong. The performance continued flawlessly, but fans watching from the crowd and at home couldn't help but be amazed at how fast and professional they both were. It was a moment of pure teamwork, a quiet display of trust and coordination between members that reminded everyone just how close SEVENTEEN really was—onstage and off.

THE BLANKET BLOCK ™

Now, let me introduce to you ‘The Infamous Blocks’. There are three in total— ‘The Blanket’, ‘The Body’, and ‘The Bear’. I might sound like I am joking but I’m being so serious…

Lets start with the ‘Blanket Block’

The night was electric with excitement, the air buzzing with anticipation as fans lined the barricades of the red carpet at MAMA 2017 in Japan. The event was one of the most awaited of the year, and the energy surrounding the venue was palpable. Cameras flashed wildly, fans screamed with glee, and a sea of lightsticks waved as the SEVENTEEN van rolled to a slow stop at the edge of the carpet. The sleek black vehicle gleamed under the lights as if announcing the arrival of something grand. One by one, the members began to step out.

First came S.Coups, stepping confidently onto the red carpet, his sharp black suit catching the light just right. The fans erupted in cheers, phones already out and recording as each member made their way down the line. Mingyu followed, waving briefly to the crowd, and then Seungkwan, whose grin brightened as he acknowledged the fans’ excitement. Each member received their share of attention, but it wasn’t just for the boys the crowd was waiting.

[they looked too good to be true this night]

Inside the van, Luna sat, fixing her dress, her hands smoothing over the soft fabric nervously. She knew the moment she stepped out, all eyes would be on her. But more than the eyes, it was the cameras. The predatory gleam of lenses ready to snap her from every angle made her feel vulnerable, and exposed. Tonight, she was wearing an elegant, sleek black dress— classy but form-fitting— and she knew the moment she stepped out, the cameras wouldn’t be kind if they caught anything inappropriate.

Jeonghan, who had just stepped out of the van, paused at the door and leaned back inside. His pink hair gleamed under the overhead lights, but his gaze was focused entirely on Luna, not the crowd.

He noticed her slight hesitation and saw the way her hands twitched with uncertainty as she adjusted her dress. He leaned in closer, his voice soft and comforting, though the words were lost to the flashing lights and the fans’ endless chants. Whatever he said, it calmed her enough for her to take a deep breath and prepare to step out.

[I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HE SAID TO HER]

[I’m desperate, please]

But before she could fully exit the van, Jeonghan reached inside and swiftly grabbed a dark blanket that had been folded near the seats. With a smooth, practiced motion, he unfolded it and held it open in front of the door, shielding Luna from the prying eyes and flashing cameras that would’ve otherwise had a clear view of her legs and dress as she maneuvered out of the car.

[GOODBYE WORLD PT. 2]

[YOON JEONGHAN IS THE STANDARD]

He didn’t rush her, didn’t make a big deal of it; his movements were calm, unbothered as if this were second nature to him. The blanket draped in his hands, blocking the lower part of her from view.

[I WANT HIM]

[LORD HE’S PERFECT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE]

Luna, catching the gesture, couldn’t help but feel a wave of warmth and gratitude. Her face softened as she adjusted her dress under the cover of the blanket. She took a moment to gather herself, making sure every inch of fabric was in place, every crease smoothed out.

She met Jeonghan’s eyes for a brief second, and the silent exchange between them said more than words could have. A nod of reassurance. A small, grateful smile.

[she just swooned… don’t at me]

Jeonghan, still holding the blanket like a shield, waited for her signal. Only when Luna gave him the okay— a subtle but confident nod— did he let the blanket drop.

[HE– I– can’t. I need him in my life]

In a smooth motion, he tossed it back inside the van and extended his hand to her. Luna stepped out gracefully, her confidence restored as her feet touched the ground. The cameras immediately went into overdrive, capturing every inch of her, but Jeonghan remained beside her, his hand still on hers, helping her as they moved forward together.

[MOM AND DAD ARE SO FUCKING HOT]

[CAN I BE THE THIRD IN THIS RELATIONSHIP?!]

[please, I’m begging… I can be a pet… I can bark]

The cheers from the crowd doubled as Luna appeared. The fans, who had been screaming the members’ names, now turned their attention to the only female member of SEVENTEEN, and the energy shifted.

But Jeonghan never let go of her hand, guiding her with a quiet but firm presence. He knew how these events worked, how easily one wrong angle could lead to unnecessary scrutiny. And so, even as they posed together on the red carpet, his body was angled ever so slightly in her favor, offering her the subtle kind of protection that no one would notice but her.

[😩😩😩😩]

[look at them]

The fans closest to the barricades noticed it, though. They had seen the entire interaction, from the way Jeonghan covered her with the blanket to the way he never once let her fend for herself. And it didn’t go unnoticed how he tossed the blanket away only once he was certain she was completely comfortable. Luna's smile was as radiant as ever, but beneath it was the comfort of knowing that, even in a sea of flashing lights and camera lenses, someone always had her back.

[ICONIC. SIMPLY ICONIC.]

[one of the most iconic Jeongna moments]

THE BODY BLOCK ™

Next is my favorite out of the three… the ‘Body Block’

The night sky over Seoul was illuminated by the flashing lights of countless cameras, the red carpet stretching out like a sea of glamour and anticipation. It was the Cartier event of 2022, an evening that promised to bring together the city's most elegant and well-known figures.

Among them were Luna and Mingyu, two of Cartier’s most prominent models and brand ambassadors. Their presence alone was enough to send a ripple of excitement through the crowd, but the fact that they both wore red, in perfectly coordinated outfits, had the press buzzing.

[RED IS THEIR COLOR]

[I’m sorry– they looks so hot and intimidating]

Luna stepped out first, her heels clicking softly against the smooth surface of the red carpet. She was the embodiment of grace, her tall, slender frame draped in a stunning, floor-length red dress.

The dress was an exquisite piece— a bold, deep crimson that shimmered under the camera lights. It was strapless on one side, while the other featured a delicate, thin strap that wrapped over her shoulder, highlighting the gentle curve of her collarbone. The material clung to her figure in all the right ways, its fabric flowing down to her feet like liquid silk, pooling elegantly around her ankles. A daring slit along one side revealed a hint of her leg as she moved, but it was done tastefully, maintaining an air of sophistication and class.

[I WAS DROOLING WHEN I SAW HER]

[she doesn’t look real 😭]

[like– I’m convinced she’s a hologram]

Mingyu followed closely behind her, equally striking in his tailored red suit. The suit jacket was perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders, the crimson fabric complementing the sharp black of his shirt underneath.

[DOUBLE KILL]

[I AM SORRY— sir?!]

[I am loyal to Seungcheol… am I?]

Together, they made a captivating pair, their outfits harmonizing in a way that felt almost intentional, like they were meant to stand side by side on this particular night.

As they posed for the cameras, the flashes were relentless, a barrage of light capturing their every move. Luna stood tall, her chin slightly raised, one hand placed elegantly on her hip while her other arm hung loosely at her side. Beside her, Mingyu struck his own pose, the definition of cool confidence, his dark eyes locking with the cameras as they both stood center stage, an image of luxury and refinement.

[They’d be so hot together… I didn’t say that 😀]

And then it happened— so quickly that it could have been missed by anyone not paying attention. As Luna shifted her weight, turning her body slightly to change her angle, one of the thin straps of her dress slipped from her shoulder. The movement was subtle, barely noticeable at first, but as the strap fell, it revealed the bare skin of her shoulder.

[EVEN HER SHOULDER LOOKS PRETTIER THAN ME]

[DOES THAT MAKE SENSE!??]

Luna’s eyes flickered downward for a moment, a small crease of surprise appearing on her otherwise composed face.

Without missing a beat, she calmly reached up and tugged the strap back into place, her fingers grazing the cool fabric as she pulled it back over her shoulder. Her expression remained neutral, her movements composed— professional, as always. But Mingyu had seen it. The moment the strap fell, his attention snapped to her, eyes narrowing with concern for a fraction of a second.

[I’m convince every single member has spidey senses when it comes to her]

In a split-second decision, Mingyu moved. He stepped directly in front of Luna, his tall frame blocking her from the cameras with an easy, natural movement. His back was now facing the cameras, shielding her from their view as she adjusted the strap. His broad shoulders and the crimson jacket became a makeshift curtain, offering her privacy in an instant.

[🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️]

[LORD IT’S ME AGAIN]

[JEHUENDUWGYWGEJIWUDGUWBWKAIYWGUWB]

Luna looked up at him, her fingers still smoothing over the strap of her dress as she finished fixing it. Their eyes met, and for a moment, no words were needed. A small, appreciative smile touched her lips, her eyes softening as she gave him a simple nod of thanks.

Mingyu, always effortlessly cool, returned the gesture with a brief smile of his own, his eyes flickering with a silent understanding. Then, just as smoothly as he had positioned himself in front of her, he moved back to his original spot, turning to face the cameras once more, as if nothing had happened.

[THEY ALWAYS MAKE SURE SHE’S READY BEFORE THEY FUCKING STOP 🥹]

[they are so obedient too]

The photographers continued their frenzy, completely unaware of the quiet, protective exchange that had just taken place between the two. To them, it had been a seamless transition— nothing out of the ordinary. But to those paying close attention, the subtle moment of protection from Mingyu was not only graceful but instinctual, a sign of the quiet care he had for Luna, his fellow ambassador, and friend.

Together, they resumed their poses, their red outfits glowing under the lights, and once again, they became the perfect image of poise and elegance. But those who knew— who saw the quick flash of concern in Mingyu’s eyes and the gratitude in Luna’s smile— recognized the deeper connection between them, one that went beyond their roles on the red carpet.

The event continued, but that brief moment lingered, caught by the lucky fans who were watching closely enough to see the exchange, a testament to the unspoken bond shared by the two.

THE BEAR BLOCK ™

And finally, the ‘Bear Block’

The soft glow of the hotel room’s ambient lighting bathed the cozy space in a warm hue as Minghao and Luna sat side by side on the edge of her bed, engaging with fans in their casual Weverse live. Luna’s hotel room was comfortably minimalistic—soft cream-colored walls, sleek furniture, and the faint scent of lavender wafting through the air from a diffuser on the nightstand. Behind them, a plush teddy bear sat tucked into the pillows, a gift Luna had received from a fan earlier that day, its little beady eyes gleaming under the camera's light.

[IT’S THE OTHER SET OF TWINS OF SEVENTEEN]

[the 97 line twins]

It was a typical live stream for the two— comfortable and relaxed. Luna, in her soft oversized hoodie, was leaning back against the bedpost while Minghao, dressed in his usual stylish yet casual attire, lounged next to her. Their conversation flowed naturally as they laughed and answered fans’ questions. Minghao would occasionally break into Chinese, his voice smooth as he spoke in his mother tongue, and Luna, always eager to learn, would repeat his phrases with childlike excitement, though her pronunciation was less polished.

[they are so cute 🥺]

[I love this duo so much]

Minghao chuckled each time she got it wrong, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “No, no, like this,” he’d say, gently correcting her, the fondness in his tone unmistakable. He would then patiently translate the meaning into Korean for her and their fans, smiling as Luna exaggeratedly repeated the words again, determined to get it right.

[I am so soft for them]

The chat was buzzing with messages, and the number of viewers kept rising steadily as more fans joined in, thrilled by the duo’s easy-going dynamic. Luna, always full of energy, glanced at the screen, her sharp eyes catching one of the rapid comments. She leaned forward to get a better look, her long hair cascading down one side of her face as she brought her face closer to her phone.

"Wait, what does this say—" Luna began, her voice trailing off mid-sentence. Just as she was about to read the comment aloud, Minghao, who had been fiddling with the teddy bear on the bed, made a swift movement. In a fraction of a second, without a word, he gently but firmly pressed the soft bear against her chest, covering her entirely from view.

[this cracked me up 😂]

[the fact the Hao just shoved the bear in front of her was just hilarious]

Luna froze for a heartbeat, her eyes widening in surprise as she realized what had just happened. Her body had leaned forward just a little too far, and in her oversized hoodie, there had been a chance she might have inadvertently revealed something on camera that wasn’t meant to be seen. Minghao, with his ever-watchful eye and sharp instincts, had noticed it instantly.

[Hao really said: “not on my watch.” 🧸]

Her breath hitched for a moment as she glanced at him, her face a mix of shock and silent gratitude. Minghao, his expression calm and collected, simply nodded at her in a way that conveyed everything without words. He didn’t make a big deal of it; his actions were smooth and almost invisible to the casual observer. His nod was one of quiet understanding, a signal that she didn’t need to worry— he had her back.

[He’s also so fucking hot, lawd]

Luna’s heart swelled with appreciation, but she played it cool. With a soft exhale, she shot him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you,” she muttered under her breath, barely audible but enough for Minghao to hear.

He gave a subtle smile in return, his eyes crinkling slightly as he continued to idly hold the bear in place, casually moving it as though it were part of their lighthearted banter.

Luna straightened back up, her posture relaxed once more, and resumed the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Luna’s smile returned as she read through more comments, her face as calm and composed as ever, a professional through and through.

[CUTIESSSSSS 💕💕💕]

They continued answering fan questions as the live stretched on, but the silent gesture lingered in the air like an unspoken promise— proof that, no matter what, Minghao was always watching out for her, and Luna was never truly alone.

LUNA’S TRAINEE STORY IN GAME CATERERS 1-2

“It says here that you are known to cause fights.” PD Na said.

[THIS ENTIRE STORY RIGHT HERE]

The sudden statement caught everyone off guard. The members burst into laughter while Luna sat there, shocked and confused, unsure of how to respond.

“Me?” she asked, pointing to herself, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Fights? Where did you hear that?” She laughed, still trying to process the unexpected accusation.

[She’s just that bitch. She didn’t even know]

PD Na pointed at his paper, a teasing grin on his face. “We did our research. It says here that you caused a lot of fights when you were a trainee.”

A chorus of agreements erupted from the members, with many of them pointing at her and Jeonghan, nodding vigorously.

“That’s right!”

“He’s right!” they echoed, their voices overlapping as they teased her.

"This is amazing," Dokyeom laughed harder.

“What?” Luna turned to look at her members, her confusion deepening as she tried to piece together what they were talking about. "Huh? What are you guys talking about?"

Then her eyes landed on Jeonghan who was already watching her, and it all clicked. The realization dawned on her face, her expression shifting from confusion to understanding, and then to amusement. “Ah,” she laughed, finally catching on.

[SHE TOOK ONE LOOK AT JEONGHAN AND KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT]

Jeonghan, always the instigator, just grinned back at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

[he’s proud too]

As the memory clicked into place, Luna laughed harder, her laughter bubbling over as she covered her mouth with her hands. “This is amazing,” she marveled, still giggling. “How did you guys find out about that? I had completely forgotten about it.”

PD Na watched her with amusement, leaning forward slightly. “Can you tell us about it?” he asked, clearly intrigued.

Luna glanced at Jeonghan, who nodded in agreement, his smile knowing. She turned back to the group, preparing to recount the story. “It was when I was a trainee, and I was new at ‘PLEDIS’. This happened about five months after I joined,” Luna began, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. “This one time, I just had the hardest day. The training was intense, I was sick at that time as well, and I remember stressing over my exams because I was still in school.”

Everyone listened carefully, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. Her members, who knew the story well, giggled quietly, already anticipating where it was headed.

Luna continued, “I hadn’t eaten the entire day. I came to the practice room, and I had an apple. Then, one of the trainees came over, and he was teasing me.”

She paused, mimicking the boy’s actions by raising her hand as if holding something up high. “He took my apple, raised it up, and teased me to take it. He kept doing it and wouldn't give it to me up to the point that I just started crying,” Luna admitted, laughing at the memory of her younger, more vulnerable self.

“Aww,” the members and producers chorused, a mixture of sympathy and amusement in their voices.

[THEY ARE SO SOFT FOR HER WTF 🥺]

Luna pressed on, “Then, all of a sudden, Jeonghannie oppa came in.” She placed her hand on Jeonghan’s leg, and though he made no move, he continued listening to her, his smirk growing as he anticipated the end of the story. “He saw me crying, took one look at the apple, and then he went…”

Luna mimicked Jeonghan’s deep, angry voice and stern expression, saying, “‘Give it back'.”

The room exploded into shrieks. The members erupted in howls and laughter, some leaping out of their seats, while others covered their mouths in teasing disbelief. The laughter was contagious, filling the room. Luna and Jeonghan remained seated next to each other, smiling as the room buzzed with the chaotic energy of their shared memories.

[only same reaction]

As the laughter in the room finally began to die down, Luna continued the story, still smiling. “The trainee still wouldn’t give it back and thought Hannie oppa was joking with him,” she said, recalling the moment. “Then he went, ‘I said give it back,’ but the trainee just laughed at him. Oppa was one of the oldest, so it was a bit disrespectful…”

PD Na, fully invested in the story, leaned in slightly. “Then… what did he do?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Jeonghan, his voice calm and deep, answered this time, his eyes still carrying that signature droopy look as he smirked lazily. “I cursed him out.”

The casual delivery of his words contrasted with the intensity of the moment, making the members erupt into a chorus of teasing.

"Ooh, he cursed!"

"He really cursed him out!"

"He cursed!" they repeated, pointing at Jeonghan and laughing even harder.

Luna nodded, trying to keep a straight face, before wrapping up the story. "Then after that, we left, and he bought me food."

[out of all the things PLEDIS could’ve fucking released in that training room it could have been this!]

Before PD Na could reply, Seungkwan jumped in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There was also this one time. Maybe a year after that incident."

PD Na raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "There's another one?"

Luna, confused, turned to look at Seungkwan, who was seated behind her. "What else is there?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

[SHE’S LOST]

"It happened a year before we debuted," Seungkwan leaned forward, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone. "Noona is beautiful. She's really beautiful. Even back then when she was younger, she hasn't changed at all. Not once. She looks the exact same. The only thing that changed is her height." He emphasized each word to PD Na, while Luna listened quietly, her members nodding in agreement.

[I AGREE]

"She was an extremely popular trainee," Seungkwan continued. "A lot of boys liked her."

[SAME]

With that, a chorus of agreements spilled from the mouths of the members. "That's true," Mingyu said, nodding along with the others.

[GOOD. SO WE ALL AGREE.]

"There was a time when two trainees were literally arguing about her because they both liked her, and they decided to talk to her about it and make her decide," Seungkwan added, glancing over at Luna with a grin.

"I remember this," S.Coups chuckled, his eyes lighting up with the memory.

Luna’s eyes widened as she finally recalled the story. "Oh, right! Once they saw me, they started arguing in front of me," she nodded, using her hands to illustrate the scene.

[She explained that as if it’s the most normal thing in the world]

"Right. They were literally fighting in front of her," Seungkwan affirmed. "The members present tried to make them stop, but one thing led to another, and they both grabbed Luna by each hand," Seungkwan demonstrated the movement, grabbing Wonwoo’s arm to illustrate the point.

[WHAT I WOULD DO TO SEE THIS]

"Jeonghan… He was the angriest I've ever seen him in my life," Seungkwan said, raising his hand as if swearing to the truth.

[WHAT I WOULD DO TO SEE THIS PT. 2]

Seungkwan then stood up, pulling Wonwoo to his feet to act out the scene. "Jeonghan went up to them and just…" He mimicked Jeonghan’s aggressive stance, facing Wonwoo head-on, his expression fierce.

"Jeonghan had really long hair back then, so it was swaying like this," Seungkwan added, shaking his head from side to side, imitating the way Jeonghan’s hair had moved during the confrontation. "'Let go,'" he said in a deep, angry voice, perfectly mimicking Jeonghan.

[ANGRY JEONGHAN + LONG-HAIRED JEONGHAN = 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️]

Another chorus of amused, teasing "Oohs" erupted from the members, while Luna sat laughing, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

S.Coups, still seated, shook his head with a grin. "I had to get him off. It was the first time I saw Jeonghan angry as well," he confessed, looking at Jeonghan with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

[good lord. PLEDIS RELEASE THE FOOTAGE NOW. I KNOW YOU HAVE IT THERE SOMEWHERE]

PD Na directed his attention to Jeonghan, raising an eyebrow with an amused smile. "It seems like you're involved in a lot of these stories."

[He knows what’s up]

Before Jeonghan could respond, Dokyeom cut in with a knowing grin. "Jeonghan is the most protective of Luna."

[I BEG TO DIFFER BUT ACCURATE]

Luna quickly interjected, shaking her head with a smile. "No, it’s because he was the first person I became friends with when I joined. He was the person I was most comfortable with."

[🥹🥹🥹]

Jeonghan finally spoke up, his tone nonchalant as if the answer was obvious. "How else am I supposed to react during that situation?"

[right. right. right.]

Hoshi chimed in, nodding in agreement. "He’s cool."

"Very cool," Minghao said.

[He’s hot too]

Seungkwan, ever the dramatic one, couldn’t resist adding his flair. "I swear it was like a drama," he said, his voice filled with exaggerated emotion. "It was like you could hear the song play… 'Almost Paradise'…'" He sang the familiar tune, sending the room into another round of laughter.

[YESSSSSSSSSS]

PD Na, still chuckling, looked back at Jeonghan and Luna. "It’s because she’s your best friend. You two are the closest."

Both Luna and Jeonghan nodded, confirming the bond they shared.

"She's like your younger sister," PD Na added thoughtfully.

[sure]

Jeonghan, who had been nodding in agreement, suddenly faltered. "N– y–yes," he stuttered, quickly changing his answer.

[HE AINT SLICK AT ALL]

The subtle exchange of looks between Jeonghan and Luna that followed didn’t go unnoticed. Jeonghan's eyes lingered on her for just a moment, while Luna remained composed, though there was a fleeting glint of something unspoken in her eyes. It was a small, almost imperceptible moment, but the hesitation in Jeonghan’s response added a strange tension to the room that only the members noticed and understood as if there was more to the story than they were letting on.

[CALL ME INSANE BUT THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE]

[THE MEMBERS KNOW TOO]

PD Na, oblivious to the undercurrent, chuckled again. "I never thought you would be the type of person to fight," he remarked to Jeonghan, amused by the contrast between his usual calm demeanor and the stories being told.

The room burst into laughter again, and in perfect sync, both Luna and Jeonghan replied, "You’d think."

[GOD I LOVE THEM]

LUNA’S ALMOST FACE-PLANTING OFF THE STAGE

It was the encore stage of SEVENTEEN’s ‘Be The Sun’ concert in Los Angeles, the never-ending loop of ‘Very Nice’ ringing through the arena as the crowd screamed and chanted along. The energy was electric, and all fourteen members were spread across the stage, bouncing with uncontainable excitement.

[it’s always this song btw]

[shit always happens during this never-ending song]

They’d already run through what seemed like a dozen rounds of the song, yet the adrenaline kept them going, fueled by the roars of the fans.

Luna, like the rest, was in high spirits, hopping from side to side, her voice blending with the sea of cheers as she waved down to the fans in the pit.

[SPIT ON ME– w-what?!]

She had found herself at the very edge of the stage, close enough that she could see the eager faces reaching up toward her, arms outstretched and phones recording every moment. Luna smiled and waved, her fingers making heart signs as she interacted with the fans who screamed her name in delight.

[She’s adorable and hot at the same time]

[like– how does one achieve that skill]

Her hair was slightly damp from all the jumping, and she pushed it out of her face, not noticing the sheen of water accumulating by her feet. The other members had been throwing water bottles into the crowd moments earlier, and the puddles left behind were nearly invisible under the bright concert lights.

In the heat of the moment, Luna took a step forward, her foot catching the slick surface beneath her. Her sneakers slid out from under her, and for a brief, terrifying second, her body lurched forward, dangerously close to toppling off the stage. Her balance was gone, the crowd gasping in unison as they watched her stumble.

[SHE LITERALLY WAS THIS 🤏 CLOSE TO SEEING JESUS]

But before gravity could pull her down, two pairs of hands shot out— firm and fast. Dino, who had been dancing nearby, immediately grabbed her left arm with a firm grip, his reflexes kicking in as he sensed her falling. At the same moment, Vernon, who had been casually walking past on her right, caught her other arm, his hands locking around her elbow with precision. Together, the two maknaes stabilized her, each holding on tightly as she regained her footing.

[THEY BOTH LOOKED EQUALLY TERRIFIED]

[Someone bubble wrap Jiyeonie I’m so serious]

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. The three of them stood frozen, catching their breaths as the arena’s lights flashed around them.

[the way the three of them just froze]

Luna’s heart raced as she realized how close she had been to a disastrous fall, right in front of thousands of fans. She turned to look at Dino and Vernon, their hands still gripping her arms firmly. Their faces mirrored a mixture of concern and relief, and they exchanged a silent understanding in that brief, weighty second.

Luna, her chest heaving, mouthed the words, “Thank you… I almost died,” her eyes wide with mock dramatization.

Her words, though lost in the chaos of the concert, were picked up by eagle-eyed fans close enough to lip-read the exchange. Dino let out a relieved laugh, his lips quirking into a smile, while Vernon gave a subtle nod, eyes flicking toward her with a smirk, as if to say, “Yup, you almost died.”

In the span of a heartbeat, the moment passed. Dino and Vernon released their hold as she straightened herself, shaking off the near-incident. Luna turned back to the audience with a bright grin, as if nothing had happened, raising her arms and encouraging the crowd to scream even louder.

[SHE’S SO UNSERIOUS 😂]

The fans, unaware of just how close she’d been to falling, cheered even harder, oblivious to the small protective moment that had unfolded before their eyes.

As the three continued dancing, the members spread back out across the stage, the concert’s rhythm never missing a beat.

THIS LIVE THAT MAKES MY BLOOD BOIL

Hoshi’s live had started like any other, full of laughter, easy conversation, and the familiar warmth of interacting with fans. As he sat in front of the camera, casually talking about everything from the group’s upcoming schedules to his favorite food that day, the comments section filled with excitement, fans from all over the world typing out their love and admiration for SEVENTEEN's energetic tiger.

[AH YES, ANOTHER CLIP THAT PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF]

But then, the live took an unexpected turn as both Joshua and Luna suddenly appeared on screen. Joshua casually strolled into the room, his ever-present smile lighting up his face as he greeted the viewers. “Hey, everyone!” he said, settling down beside Hoshi.

Luna followed quietly, a soft, polite wave to the camera as she sat next to Joshua. Her presence, while usually met with joy from fans, always came with its fair share of negativity as well, something she’d long since come to terms with as the only female member of SEVENTEEN.

At first, the chat exploded with excitement.

“OMG Joshua!!”

“YAY, Jiyeonie is here too!!”

“Look at these visuals!!!”

But quickly, as always, the tide began to shift. Hidden between the floods of hearts and cheers, darker comments started appearing.

They always did.

“Why is she even here?”

“We only wanted Joshua and Hoshi, not her.”

“She ruins it as always.”

“Please leave, no one wants to see you.”

Luna sat quietly, her eyes flickering over the comments, her usual smile frozen on her face. She had grown used to this, a side effect of being the only girl in a thirteen-member male-dominated group.

[YOU MOTHERFUCKERS BETTER ROT IN HELL]

[look at her face!]

No matter how much love she received, there were always those who couldn't accept her presence.

Over the years, she had developed a thick skin.

She knew she didn’t need to prove herself to anyone, that she was just as much a part of SEVENTEEN as any of the others, but that didn’t make it any less uncomfortable to read such words over and over again. It was as though the hate was a dark cloud that hovered just beyond the warmth of the stage lights, waiting to seep in whenever she let her guard down.

Joshua, sitting next to her, immediately sensed the shift in her demeanor. His sharp eyes noticed how her usual bubbly chatter had quieted down, how she glanced at the screen but didn’t engage as much as she normally would.

[I am just happy she has them 🥺]

[she doesn’t deserve the hate]

Without a word, he gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his touch comforting and protective. His gaze met hers in a brief exchange, asking the question without saying a word: Are you okay?

[🥹🥹🥹]

Luna looked up at him and gave a small nod, her lips curving into a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It wasn’t the hate that bothered her, not anymore— it was how people could hold so much anger and vitriol for someone they didn’t even know. Still, she remained quiet, determined not to let the negative comments ruin the mood of the live.

[BAE JIYEON WE LOVE YOU ALWAYS AND FOREVER 💖💖💖]

But Hoshi, ever the observant one, wasn’t about to let it slide. His bright, playful expression faded as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes scanning the comments section intently.

[ngl his shift in attitude gave me fucking chills]

[Hoshi really went from 🐹 to🐯]

Luna watched out of the corner of her eye as his fingers moved across the screen, quietly and deliberately reporting the hateful messages one by one. Only she and Joshua could see what he was doing, but fans started speculating in the chat as well, noticing the change in his expression and how his focus shifted from conversation to something else entirely.

[HE REALLY SAID “TRY ME BITCH”]

[he was mass reporting the shit out of them hoes]

Then, after a few moments of silence, Hoshi sat back, his face serious, his usually playful tone replaced with something much firmer, more resolute. His voice carried an edge that left no room for argument, yet he wasn’t aggressive— just calm, measured, and unwavering. He addressed the chat directly, his eyes staring straight into the camera.

[HELP— HE IS GENUINELY TERRIFYING ANGRY]

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, then you should just leave,” Hoshi said, his words clear and firm. “This live is for all of us to have fun and spend time together. I won’t tolerate disrespect toward any of my members. If you don’t like it, that’s fine— but I won’t have people being rude. That’s not what SEVENTEEN is about, and that’s not the kind of fans we want. So if you’re here to spread hate, you’re not welcome.”

[SHIT– I… 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️]

[RAWR! THAT’S THE TIGER IN HIM]

He paused, his expression softening just slightly, but his message was unmistakable. “Let’s all just be kind to each other, okay? That’s the kind of energy we need.”

[AMEN TO THAT!]

[YOU LOSERS HEAR HIM?!]

The chat exploded with a mix of reactions. Supportive fans immediately flooded the comments with love for Luna, agreeing with Hoshi’s words and calling out the haters who had been leaving negative comments. But there were still others who continued to protest, claiming they had a right to their opinions, or that they hadn’t said anything wrong.

Through it all, Luna stayed quiet. She occasionally responded to a few positive comments, forcing a smile here and there, but her heart wasn’t in it. Joshua and Hoshi tried their best to lighten the mood, playfully nudging her to join the conversation, but the damage had already been done— not because she was hurt by the hate, but because it confused her.

How could people carry so much anger, so much spite, for someone they didn’t even know? It was a question she couldn’t answer and one that weighed on her more than the comments themselves.

[she looked sad the entire time]

[I’m so sorry, baby 🥺]

As the live continued, the mood eventually lightened again, thanks to Hoshi’s relentless energy and Joshua’s calm, steady presence. But for Luna, the evening felt a little heavier, her mind drifting back to the reality of her position as SEVENTEEN's only female member. She would never let the hate break her, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t exhausting.

“BAE JIYEON MARRY ME!”

The air was buzzing with excitement inside the venue as fans eagerly waited for the fan sign event to begin. The members of SEVENTEEN sat in a line, comfortably seated behind a long table on the stage, each with their markers in hand, ready to greet their Carats up close. The stage lights cast a soft glow over the group as they casually chatted amongst themselves, waving occasionally to the fans in the audience, who were waiting for their turn.

Luna, seated between Joshua and Minghao, was twirling her marker absentmindedly, her attention drifting between the other members' conversations and the distant murmur of the crowd. The relaxed energy around her was something she always cherished at fan signs— a rare chance to connect with the fans on a more personal level.

[I HAVE SAID IT ONCE AND I’LL SAY IT AGAIN… SHE IS BEAUTIFUL… AND SMOKING HOT 😍🥵]

But just as Luna was about to engage in a conversation with Minghao, a loud, booming voice from the audience broke through the steady hum of the crowd.

“BAE JIYEON, MARRY ME!”

[Honestly… valid]

The sudden, bold declaration reverberated across the room, sending ripples of surprise and laughter through the fans. Luna, completely caught off guard, froze mid-spin, her eyes widening as she looked up toward the sea of fans. Her heart jumped in her chest, not from the proposal itself, but from the unexpected shock of it all.

[She’s adorable]

[She’s also concerned]

A chorus of laughter and amused giggles rose from the audience. Luna, still recovering from the jolt of surprise, reached for the mic in front of her, her lips curving into an amused smile.

She was about to reply, maybe tease the fan back, but before she could even bring the mic to her lips, the response came— not from her, but from the thirteen members seated beside her.

[And there they go…]

A resounding, collective, and very loud “NO!” erupted from her bandmates. The word shot across the room in unison, like a protective shield around her, each member adding their own flair to the rejection.

[THEY CRACK ME TF UP 😂]

Seungcheol was the first to react, playfully crossing his arms over his chest and giving a mock glare toward the fan as he leaned back in his seat. “Absolutely not,” he added, shaking his head as if to cement the point.

Dino and Jun, sitting a few seats down, followed suit, their arms shooting up into the air in exaggerated protest. “No, no, no!” They chanted, shaking their fingers dramatically, their expression both comical and stern.

Hoshi, always one to escalate things, leaned forward in his chair, his voice loud and booming as he pointed into the audience. “You’ve got some nerve!” he said playfully, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Jiyeon’s not going anywhere, you hear me?”

The fans roared with laughter, thoroughly entertained by the group’s immediate and united defense. Even Woozi, known for his quieter reactions, shook his head silently, his lips forming a firm, resolute “no” as he glanced down the line at Luna, his protective instincts subtly showing.

Mingyu, seated at the far end, leaned into his mic. “Good try, though,” he deadpanned, earning another round of chuckles from the audience.

[MENACES]

Luna couldn’t help but laugh, her shoulders shaking as the members continued their playful scolding. It was a chaotic chorus of no’s, some loud and exaggerated, others quiet but firm. The overwhelming display of protection from her members warmed her heart, and she could see the amusement spreading among the fans as well.

[JIYEON JUST SAT THERE LIKE: “YUP 😇”]

Even the fan who had shouted the proposal was laughing along, clearly enjoying the playful banter his boldness had sparked.

As the ruckus continued, Luna finally leaned back in her chair, shaking her head with a grin. The mic still rested in her hand, but there wasn’t much for her to say— her bandmates had already spoken loud and clear.

Then, amidst the fading echoes of laughter, Jeonghan, who had remained relatively quiet during the exchange, finally spoke up. His voice was calm and smooth as he brought his mic to his lips, his usual playful smirk replaced with something more composed.

“Sorry, but that question is sensitive for us,” he said nonchalantly, though there was a glint in his eyes that made it clear there was more truth to his words than his tone let on.

[Translation: “Only I get to ask her to marry me.”]

The laughter in the room softened, and for a split second, a quiet fell over the stage as Luna and the rest of the members registered the weight behind Jeonghan’s words. It was a joke, of course, but Luna knew Jeonghan better than most— and she could tell he was serious.

He always was when it came to her.

Luna’s laughter faded into a softer smile, a silent understanding passing between her and Jeonghan as their eyes briefly met across the table. He gave her a small, reassuring nod, and she returned it, appreciating the subtle way he always looked out for her. Even in moments like this, where the line between playfulness and sincerity blurred, Jeonghan’s protectiveness always shone through.

[STOP FLIRTING WITH MOM, DAD!]

The fans, blissfully unaware of the deeper meaning behind his words, erupted into laughter once again, the lighthearted atmosphere quickly returning. Luna, feeling the warmth of her members’ care, picked up the mic at last and shook her head, addressing the original fan who had proposed.

“I think you got your answer,” she said with a teasing smile, the laughter in her voice unmistakable.

[Translation: “Only Yoon Jeonghan gets to marry me.”]

The fans cheered, and the rest of the members continued to playfully banter as the fan sign officially began. But throughout the rest of the event, Luna couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the family she had in SEVENTEEN— their protectiveness, their loyalty, and their unwavering support. It wasn’t always easy being the only female member, but in moments like this, she knew she wasn’t alone.

And there you have it, folks! Just a small glimpse into SEVENTEEN’s ultimate protective instincts when it comes to their one and only Luna. I mean, if you ever had any doubts about how loved this girl is, well… think again.

Thirteen men— yes, thirteen— willing to risk it all, fight the world, and probably even dive into traffic if it meant keeping her safe. So, a quick reminder to all: Never— and I mean NEVER— mess with Bae Jiyeon unless you want these maniacs after you.

But hey, can you really blame them? Luna’s got their backs, and they’ve got hers. It’s a whole family thing at this point.

Thanks for watching! Don’t forget to comment on more wholesome SEVENTEEN content you want to see next! See you next time— unless you’re out there trying to propose to Luna… in which case… good luck with that!”

comments…

@/lunababybae • 10 months ago ╰ Luna’s sasaeng attack pisses me off but angry and protective Cheol makes up for it 🥵

@/mimilyemily • 10 months ago ╰ DID YOU SEE HOW FAST CHOI SEUNGCHEOL AND JEON WONWOO REACTED AT 1:00 GOOD LORD

@/gyusshadow • 10 months ago ╰ OUR LEADER SCOLDING SECURITY FOR LUNA 🥺 MY MAN RIGHT THERE!!!

@/moonlight_1997 • 10 months ago ╰ Jeonghan caressing Luna’s red arm 1:25 idk if I am to feel soft over him touching her like that or pissed off that her arm is red because of that sasaeng 🙃

@/saythename • 8 months ago ╰ Seokminie zipping Jiyeonie up that quick during Fear is a skill and a hot skill at that!

@/jeonwoowonwoo • 7 months ago ╰ They are all so protective of her, it’s super endearing 💖🥺

@/mrsbaebae • 7 months ago ╰ THE THREE BLOCKS ARE ICONIC!!!

@/jeongnanana • 7 months ago ╰ THESE MEN ARE THE STANDARD WTF!? JUST THE WAY THEY TREAT LUNA IS PROOF ENOUGH 💕🤭

@/gyuuuuudaily • 6 months ago

╰ YOON JEONGHAN DEFENDING LUNA DURING THEIR TRAINEE DAYS IS STILL ONE OF THE BEST STORIES I HAVE EVER HEARD TILL THIS DAY!!!

@/bbbiiibbiii • 5 months ago ╰ That exchange of looks from Luna and Hannie at 19:57 😍😍😍

@/missbitchhhh • 3 months ago ╰ note to self: “How to get Svt to notice you = ask Luna to marry you.”

@/shadowmyshadow• 2 months ago ╰ I have completely erased that Hoshi live from my mind. Seeing Luna sad and quiet like that breaks me 🥺

@/kpppopieaddict • 1 week ago ╰ They are all down bad for her wbk (I am too).

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

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Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav

[sturnsdarling]

save a horse...

you and Matt go to a ranch for your anniversary and end up finding an old abandoned barn, taking the perfect opportunity to live your true wild west fantasy.

vibe check: smutty fluff, cowgirl position (obvi), public (kind of) sex

3k words

A/N: it hurts to write my dreams instead of living them. anyways the idea of cowboy!matt makes me feel a bit wobbly in the knees so this is my version of that, this fic is dedicated to the one and only cas (@sturnioz) because she, and I quote, 'loves this shit'

love and cigs, merc

It was yours and Matts year anniversary, you were driving through the South West, Matts hand on your thigh as you drove towards the ranch you had found as a surprise for him.

It was huge, an old family run ranch in the middle of nowhere. Recently, Matt had been on a kick about reconnecting with nature so, with your anniversary coming up you thought a long weekend in a ranch would be perfect for him to live out his cowboy dreams.

When you got there,

the family that rented it out was welcoming and lovely, showing you both the little house you'd be staying in for the weekend. It was an old converted barn, all the old wood work still intact and the furnishings being very on theme for yours and Matts 'wild west' weekend.

It was perfect, and the look on Matts face when he saw the cracks of light seeping through the cracking wood walls made everything worth it.

Once you guys had dropped off your stuff,

you and Matt decided to wander around the grounds and find a nice spot to have a picnic. After a while of walking about and taking photos of the beautiful scenery, you noticed a large tree a little ways walk from where you were, telling Matt it was the perfect spot and he agreed, looping his arm over your shoulder and leading you both to the tree.

When you sat down,

Matt laid down your picnic blanket and told you to sit down, saying he'd get everything ready and that you didn't have to do anything. You complied, watching as he unpacked everything, the bright orange sun illuminating his beautiful face perfectly.

"I can feel you starin' at me, you know" Matt smirked, pulling to plastic wine glasses out the basket followed by a bottle of root beer.

"i'm not staring, i'm admiring" you corrected him.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head and turning to face you, hooking a soft finger under your chin and pulling your head up to him. He pressed a tender kiss on your glossy lips, slotting his mouth between yours perfectly. You let out a satisfied hum into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Matt pulled away and opened the bottle of soda, he held it out to you like a waiter holding wine and made a fancy, silly face, "will this do, your highness" he spoke in a posh English accent.

you giggled, nodding and trying to pull a serious face, "yes, that will do nicely" you mimicked his tone.

Matt chuckled and poured you a cup of soda before pouring his own, holding it out to you to cheers before sitting down next to you on the blanket.

You were facing the horizon, watching as the sun began to set, leaving the sky a hazy orange and pink swirl of colours. You rested your head on Matts shoulder and he turned to place a soft kiss on your hair.

"happy anniversary, beautiful" Matt said, softly.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his shoulder as he looked down at you, batting your lashes at him as you gazed at him, "happy anniversary, my love"

He smiled, placing a soft kiss on your lips before turning back to face the sunset.

You stayed there for a while, eating, laughing and enjoying each others company. The sun was still setting, and you were laying on Matts chest, peppering soft kisses all over his face as he chuckled beneath you. You were giggling the whole time, loving how he let you shower him with love like you so desperately wanted to twenty four seven. Matt placed his large hands on your hips, flipping you both over so he was on top of you. You giggled at the swift movement, and Matt hovered over you, watching in awe at the way your face lit up when you laughed.

Your giggles subsided, and you looked up to Matt, who's eyes were flitting between yours and your lips. You looked to his plump lips, and bit down on your bottom lip at the sight of him looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Matt craned his head down, pressing his lips against yours with a firm hand on your jaw. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue against his lip. He accepted your invitation and pressed his warm tongue against yours, absentmindedly grinding his hips down into yours as you hooked one leg around his waist.

Everything was perfect, you were in a beautiful place, with a beautiful boy, making out on a picnic blanket like sneaky teenagers trying to get some alone time in the wild west.

Once the sun had begun to slip under the horizon, you decided to do some more exploring before heading back to where you were staying.

On your adventure, you guys had spotted an old barn, it was falling apart at the seams and looked as if no one had touched it in years.

"we have to go see inside" you said, pulling Matt towards the old barn with your hand in his.

He followed you, letting you lead him town the dry hill towards the large old structure.

You reached the doors, pulling on the old lock slightly as it basically crumbled in your hand. Matt reached above your head, pulling the door open and letting you walk in.

It was like a time capsule, bails of old hay everywhere, old horse riding equipment and a beat up tractor in the middle.

"this is so cool" Matt said, looking around in awe.

You were just looking at him, watching his face light up with every new thing he noticed. You did a full lap of the barn, and didn't take your eyes off him once, just letting him guide you about with his fingers locked between yours.

"y'staring again, baby" He chuckled, turning to face you, placing his hands round your waist and pulling you into him.

you looped your hands around his neck, "admiring" you corrected him again, brushing your lips over his.

Matt pulled you into him, capturing your lips in a kiss that was quick to become desperate. His warm tongue pressed and pushed against yours as your hands found the tangled curls at the back of his head. His hand snuck down to your ass, gripping and squeezing at the flesh over your flowery sundress. Matt walked you backwards towards the bails of hay, laying you down gently on top of them without breaking the kiss.

He laid you down, one hand on your face and the other on your thigh as he looped your leg around his waist. Matt ground his hips down onto yours, pressing his growing cock against your pussy as your dress fell bunched around your waist. You whimpered into the kiss, tugging at Matts hair and pulling him closer into you with your leg.

Matts hand wandered up your leg, pushing your dress further up with his soft hands as his hand edged impossibly close to where the two of you connected. He pressed and kneaded at your skin as he ground his hips down into your core, hard and slowly, chasing his own friction just as much as he was trying to help you chase yours.

You whined into Matts mouth once more, biting down on his lip and bucking your hips into his. Matt chuckled, breaking the kiss and pulling away from you slightly.

"so needy" He muttered, lips still brushing yours.

"you like it when I'm needy" you pretended to sulk, earning a smile from Matt

Matt nodded, quickly pressing his lips to yours once more, "I love it, baby, y'so sexy when you're all desperate f'me" Matt smirked.

You let out a satisfied hum and kissed him again, this time, just after kissing you back for a moment, Matt began to trail is lips down your neck and along your chest, pulling at the bust of your dress with delicate fingers to expose your hard nipple to him. He locked his mouth around it, sucking down before biting it between his teeth, toothing the sting with another warm press of his tongue.

Your back arched into him, your head falling back onto the hay with a small moan. Matt made his way down your body, watching as you arched into his touch, bunching your dress around your hips and coming to eye level with your already soaked folds. Matt groaned at the sight when he saw you weren't wearing any underwear, his mind reeling at the thought of you not wearing any all day.

Your folds glistened for him, and he swiped a gentle finger over your core, earning a soft moan from your lips as you bucked your hips, chasing the feeling.

"so pretty and perfect" Matt uttered, his breath hot over your pussy as he edged impossibly close.

He wanted to tease you, he really did, but the sight of you like this for him, in a pretty sundress, spread open in an old barn with cowgirl boots on and no underwear, Matt was desperate to taste you.

Matt pressed a soft kiss against your slick folds, brushing his thumb over your puffy clit as his tongue dipped into your sopping hole. Your hands found his hair, pressing gentle fingers into his scalp as he began to lap at your pussy.

A soft, breathy moan left your lips, your legs coming to hang over his shoulders, boots wrapped behind his head as he groaned at the taste of you on his tongue.

"fuck, Matt, that feels so good" you moaned, head rolling on its hinge as your eyes fluttered shut.

Matt hummed in response, the vibrations making you clench around nothing as he continued to lap and kiss at your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit periodically, sending bouts of shivers up your spine every time.

It was blissful, his slow pace making your whole body tingle as you moaned his name, unable to stop the noises that left your mouth. He was bringing you to eye watering orgasm with just his mouth, working you so slow and tenderly, his steady pace making your stomach tense and your legs tighten around his head. You were a whimpering mess, moaning his name over and over again as you approached your high on his tongue.

it was as if Matt had a sixth sense that was tuned into your body, knowing exactly when you were going to cum without having to be told. He kept his pace, lapping softly at your pussy, driving you to a piercing orgasm. You were seeing stars, releasing your cum all over his mouth as you ground your hips against his face desperately.

Matt continued his pressure against your pussy, helping you ride out your orgasm. Your hands found his jaw, and you pulled at him, dragging him away from your pussy and whimpering as you pulled him upwards to you. Matt chuckled, crawling up your body and following your request as you pulled him down into you, kissing him with feverish need.

"see how good you taste, baby?" Matt spoke into your mouth.

You whined into the kiss, and Matt flipped you both over, so you were on top of him, sopping pussy pressed against the rough material of his jeans. He toyed with the fabric of your dress, pushing his hands under the material and pressing bruises into your skin as you ground down onto him, kissing him like he was oxygen and you were struggling to breathe.

You moved your kisses down his neck, inching your hands down the buttons of his shirt. You expertly unbuttoned his flannel, his bare chest exposed to you as you pushed it open, leaving it loose on his arms. You arched into him as you peppered wet kisses down his stubble ridden jaw, down his neck and across his chest. You were crawling down his body, your tongue inching closer and closer to the little trail of hair that led to your favourite thing.

You paused as you reached his bulge, palming him through his jeans as you looked up at him through your lashes. You fiddled with his belt, Matt helping you remove his jeans and boxers in one swift movement. His leaking cock slapped against his stomach, the sight of it making your mouth water as Matts gentle hand found your jaw, moving to the back of your head to take a handful of your hair.

You took Matts length in your hand, pumping him slowly as you hovered your mouth over his leaking tip. His head hung back, jaw slack as a soft moan left his lips.

You wrapped your lips around him, lowering your head down his length with a flat tongue against his stiff length. Matts grip on your hair tightened, him fighting every muscle in his body not to fuck into your mouth, wanting to let you do your thing that you did so well. You began to bob your head up and down against him, hollowing your cheeks out as you let him bottom out in your throat.

Matt gently guided your head down onto him, pressing his hips against your lips as you gagged around him.

"fuck, baby, your mouth feels s'good" Matt said breathlessly, letting you continue to bob up and down on him.

You hummed around him, the vibration sending a jolt up his spine as he softly bucked his hips into your mouth. Your hand came up to his balls, cupping him with a tender pressure, a throaty moan escaped his lips at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he let you work your mouth over him.

Pools of saliva gathered at the corners of your mouth, your throat opening to take his whole length as you flattened your tongue against him, the thick vein running up his cock tickling your taste buds as you lost yourself in the motion.

Matts stomach began to tighten, legs twitching periodically and you knew his was close. Before he could unload in your mouth, you pulled off him completely with a pop, earning a desperate whine from Matt who's head shot up at the feeling of your mouth no longer around him.

"why'd you stop?" he whined, eyes trained on your glistening mouth.

you chuckled, rising to straddle him, pumping his wet and sticky cock from behind you as you lined yourself up with his tip.

"I wanna ride you, cowboy" you said seductively, swiping his cock through your puffy folds.

Matt groaned at you taking control, loving when you rode him and loving it even more when you called him silly nicknames like that. He attempted to muster up a witty reply, but his train of thought was cut off by your gummy walls clenching around him as you lowered yourself onto his cock.

Matt let out a blissful sigh, eyes closing at the sensation of being nestled in your warm pussy. You bit down on your lip as he entered you, bringing your hands to rest on his chest as small whimpers left your throat, instinctively grinding your clit down against the small scattering of hair at the base of his cock.

Matts eyes fluttered open, locking with yours as he took in the sight above him, one hand finding your hip as the other tucked behind his head. He loved you like this, needy and desperate to make him feel good, and the sight of you, tits hanging out your dress as it laid bunched up around your hips, steadily bouncing up and down his hard cock, made his head spin.

You leaned forward slightly, pressing your body weight against Matts chest though your palms and you began to shift your ass up and down, dragging your tight walls over his cock as you milked him.

Matts grip on your hip was bruising, him holding you steady as you rode him. His lip was tucked between his perfect teeth, relishing in the sight of you fucking him. Your eyes were closed in pure pleasure, the stretch of your pussy around his cock making you feel lightheaded. His hand came to your ass, kneading at the flesh under your dress, he smacked the fleshy fat, soothing the sting with a massaging touch before repeating his action, spanking you as you bounced on him.

His spanks egged you on, making you feel all the more confident. You opened your eyes and smiled down at him, lip tight between your teeth.

"you look so good like this, pretty girl" He cheesed at you, shaking his head in disbelief that you were his.

You smiled at him, blushing slightly at the compliment as you picked up your pace, causing Matt to moan, his eyes closing as his head craned back into the hay.

"cum inside me, Matt, please, cum for me whilst I ride you" you muttered, your words coming out accompanied by moans, his dick hitting your gummy g-spot as you fucked down onto him harder.

Matt let out a guttural groan, pulling his hand from behind his head and palming your tit, his fingers pressing bruises into your flesh as he maintained heavy eye contact with you though his low hanging lashes.

You picked up your pace, shifting so you were rested on the bottoms of your feet, knees tight against your chest as you fucked him at a relentless pace. Matt couldn't control the noises that left his throat at the new position, the angle letting him hit a deeper spot inside you, your walls tight around his cock as he began to fuck up into you, matching your pace.

The moan that left you was throaty, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Matts balls slapped against your ass with every thrust of his hips, meeting you in the middle as you rode him.

Matts movements began to falter, breathy moans leaving his lips as he kneaded at any exposed flesh of yours he could. You were clenching hard around him, moaning his name, begging him to cum.

He didn't need to be told twice, his hand moved up to cup your jaw, pulling you own into a sloppy kiss as he pressed his cock base deep inside of you, his hips stuttering as he released spurts of white, warm cup into your perfect pussy, filling you up just like you asked. He bit down on your lip as the last remnants of his cum left his tip, coating his dick as you continued to fuck down onto him.

"I love you" he breathed into your open mouth, his whole body relaxing back into the hay.

You followed suit, letting your body weight drop down onto him as the ache of your thighs became instantly prominent, "I love you too" you muttered.

You were both spent, Matt pulling out of you with a hiss as you slumped down onto him, one leg by his side and the other over his hips. He pressed a long kiss into your hair, trailing soft tickles over your arm as you nestled into him, catching your breath on his chest.

The sun was fully set, and the light of the moon was creeping through the cracks in the battered barn walls. Crickets began to chirp outside, the night time wild life coming alive outside the barn doors.

It was a perfect end to a perfect day, and without meaning to, you both fell asleep on the hay, tangled up in one another in the warm embrace of the warm western air.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous

[hyunebunx]

saw the soft thoughts post and i hope i’m not late >.< please forgive my typos or grammatical errors love i just woke up 🥹

soooo imagine a lazy saturday morning with hyunjin where you both just wanted to sleep in and cuddle on your shared bet until late in the morning. apparently you had to force yourself to get up because you were getting hungry and hyunjin—being a clingy boyfriend—is sticking to you like glue, and be like “noooooo don’t go!!!” because he doesn’t want to get out of bed but you had to drag him up. he became a pouty baby while being clingyyyy maybe a backhug when you were cooking, a stolen kiss when you were about to eat, helping you wash the dishes but he put some soap bubbles on the tip of your nose, asked you to go out and the spend the rest of the day with him outside maybe stroll around the city, an art museum date, go to a café and watch him sketch/paint you~

ughh to be loved by an artist bro i’m still half asleep so i hope i’m making sense... anyway have a good one deni ! 😽🩷

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff and a loooot of kissing, you've been warned lol

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my love <3 this is the cutest idea ever!! thank you so so much for trusting me to write it hehe <3 listen, this got quite steamy in the middle, idk what happened i blacked out fgsdgkj can't help myself when it comes to this man apparently. anywayss, hope you'll enjoy it <333

Mornings spent sleeping in with the love of your life, all cuddle up and intertwined, were truly your absolute favorite, a blessing you didn’t take for granted. You were both busy people, with busy lives that accommodated one another like it was the most natural thing in the world, fitting together like the last two pieces needed to complete the puzzle which revealed your love story.

Hyunjin was a heavy sleeper, clinging to every thread, no matter how thin, that transported him to dreamland to rest a little more. Just five more minutes, that turned into ten, fifteen, which ended up stretching into half an hour on good days. On the bad ones, when he was more tired than usual, nothing could get Hyunjin out of bed before the afternoon rolled around. You understood – he needed his rest – but it didn’t make missing him and his bright smile any easier.

You never knew you could miss someone even while they were dozing off next to you, blissfully unaware of how your heart almost jumped out of your chest to slip under his shirt just to feel his beating, desperately searching for confirmation he felt the same. And he did, of course he did, how could he not when your name and sweet face were constantly spinning around in his mind like some sort of live wallpaper, making him unable to concentrate even on simple tasks?

Though right now, neither of you was sleeping, cuddling to Hyunjin’s chest with one leg over his lap as you caught him up on the latest work gossip. You’ve been awake for almost two hours now and for once, the universe seemed to be on your side as no sunray managed to peek through the small crack left in the curtains, allowing you to continue lying around in peace.

“Anyway, so the printer caught on fire and that was Kim’s last straw. She threw all the papers on the floor and then proceeded to plop down on them and cry. I felt so bad.”

Despite his empathetic nature, Hyunjin lets out a short laugh, voice still husky and laced with sleep as his fingers tangled in your hair. “How did she even manage to do that?”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You yawn, hiding your face in his chest briefly. “Jay used the printer last to scan pictures of his cat’s toe beans and I guess some fur got stuck in there and ruined everything.”

He slowly shakes his head, whistling. “See, that’s why I’m a dog person.”

Prompting your chin on his chest, you look at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok Mr. meows at cats because he wants to get into their good graces.”

“That was one time!”

You giggle and he joins soon after, staring deeply into your eyes until the laughter dies down and every thought leaves your mind like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Dark eyes dart between yours and your lips, subconsciously licking his plush bottom one and telling you exactly where his train of thought has stopped. Patience was not one of Hyunjin’s virtues, so the hand in your hair moves lower to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you quickly adjust, both hands sprawling on his chest to help you lean down and finally connect your lips.

The kiss is slow, lips merging perfectly as neither of you is in any rush, content to take the time to taste each other. However, it quickly gets messy, tongues meeting and complicating the familiar dance, making it hot and breathy but oh so delicious. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’ve been waiting for this ever since he woke up, constantly thinking about his rosy lips and driving yourself crazy as whatever he was saying faded in and out of hazy memory.

Hyunjin kissed you like no other, like kissing was an art he invented just to practice on you. One he managed to master throughout the years of your relationship but couldn’t get enough of, obsessed with the idea of improving and finding another unexplored corner he could take over and claim as his own.

A cold hand slides easily under your top, gripping at your waist in an effort to bring you closer, almost causing your arms to give out. You break away from the kiss and Hyunjin whines, displeased but still helps you settle on top of him more comfortably, guiding your body as you straddle his hips.

This new position allows for better access to what you’re both desiring, with Hyunjin wasting no more time in bringing you back down again, capturing your lips. With both hands on exposed thighs, the shirt he gave you to sleep in barely covering anything, Hyunjin loses himself in the taste of you, licking into your mouth and lightly biting on your bottom lip as your hands move lower over his stomach, needing to discard him of the annoying clothing.

You make to pull away but his lips follow, causing him to sit up and move one of his hands on the small of your back for support, not allowing you to slip away from him. With a mind of their own, your hands quickly abandon his shirt and move around his shoulders, meeting at his nape to deepen the kiss and lick at his bottom lip which he appreciates by the groan he lets out.

You feel him everywhere, hands groping and squeezing every bit of your body in the exact way he knew you loved, turning you to putty into his hold. By now, his dark hair is a mess from all the pulling – your fingers needed something to anchor onto.

“Hyun.” You inhale deeply, his lips moving down your jaw, restless.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles, barely hearing you.

“Breakfast.” You gasp out as he lightly bites the skin, quick to soothe it with his tongue. “I’m hungry.” Mostly true, you’ve been lying here for hours after all, who wouldn’t be hungry? But also because you knew if you didn’t stop him now, neither of you would get to eat anything before dinner time rolls around.

Hyunjin pauses, hot breath fanning your neck as he slowly tilts his head to look at you, his wet and swollen lips distracting. He’s speechless for a moment, almost like he can’t believe you interrupted him, like a child whose favorite toy is abruptly taken away. When it clicks in his head you are actually serious, Hyunjin barely registers the way you peck his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, ok connoisseur of romance. What a way to ruin the moment.”

You giggle as he gently lays you down on your back, knowing he could never be truly upset, no matter what kind of stunt you pull. He was most likely thankful you said something, surely hungry himself.

Scooting towards the end of the bed, your feet barely get to touch the hardwood floor before Hyunjin’s arms circle your middle once again, pulling you to his warm chest without a word.

“No, don’t go!” He whines, burring his head in your shoulder in protest.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, pounding from all the love you carried for your other half, the man you couldn’t imagine life without.

“Baby.” You coo, softly running your fingers over his hands on your stomach in a way to coax him. “How am I supposed to cook us breakfast otherwise?”

Hyunjin sighs, squeezing you to his chest for two more heartbeats before releasing his hold and allowing you to stand up. When you turn to face him, one of his big hands has already brought yours to his lips to plant a feather like kiss on your knuckles.

“Don’t go without me.” He mumbles, pouting slightly, and you almost explode like a piñata, staining him with your love and adoration that will surely trap him in this apartment for days trying to get it out. Not like he’d ever mind if that were possible, proudly showing off and talking about your feelings for him to anyone who’d listen, right after talking their ear off about the love he holds for you.

So, that morning, you waddle together to the kitchen like two penguins with Hyunjin refusing to stop hugging you from behind even when you started cooking. And after that, spoon feeding you on the counter and forgetting all about his needs until you threatened to take away his cuddles.

He caved in immediately.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How do you think Ford’d act when the reader, when taking notice of his horrid sleep habits and kinda-worse sleeping areas, decides to clean up his room to make it more comfortable for him? Like a new mattress, getting rid of cobwebs and trash, sweeping, etc. He just stumbles into his room to find it nice and tidy and just passes out on the nice, not 30-year-old mattress.

I just want this man to sleep :-[

Ford probably wasn’t thinking about how well kept his room was for a place that hadn’t been touched in the past thirty years, especially not when his mind was foggy and in desperate need of sleep after staying up past midnight. However as his head hits the pillows, he couldn’t help but notice how nicer it was and how well it supported and comforted his aching and agin body perfectly.

Yet before he could fully question it, his body succumb to a long, deep and well deserved sleep.

Ford doesn’t being his questioning until the next morning as he found Stan making breakfast for the twins, you, Ford and himself. ‘Stanley did you keep my room clean and well kept?’ Stan only looked at him, confused. ‘No, why would I? I gain nothing from doing such a thing, besides that sounds like something y/n did. So why not ask them?’

Ford didn’t have to wait long to ask you as you came into the kitchen, almost as though you were summoned the moment your name left Stanley’s lips, all the while the man himself smiled from his place at the stove. ‘What a coincidence, we were just talking about you doll face…or much rather he was.’ Stanley teased as he looked over at Ford while pointing his spatula at him, Ford felt as though he was pushed under a spotlight the moment your eyes moved to him, he felt a little exposed.

‘Oh yeah? What about?’ You asked.

Ford gave his brother a glare before it softened when looking at you. ‘My dear, have you perhaps been keeping my room clean and well kept for me?’

You smiled. ‘Yeah I have, the room had been left untouched for thirty years Ford! It’s not exactly going to make for an adequate sleep with that old mattress.’ You shrugged your shoulders, feeling a little sheepish in your own actions but happy at the same time form seeing how well rested Ford looked. ‘So I decided to give it a complete make over. I hope you don’t mind.’ You finished as you saw Ford looking at you softly.

‘I don’t mind at all my dear, I just don’t think you should be cleaning up after me.’ He reassures you, while his mind overthought of the abundance of embarrassing things you could’ve found during your complete clean out of his old room, praying that you didn’t see the failed sketches he had of you carelessly tossed into the overfilled bin. You waved him off. ‘It’s fine you’re a very busy man Ford and besides I found it almost therapeutic in a way.’ You tell him as you walked past him to the kettle to make yourself a drink before looking over at him from your shoulder. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘More peacefully and soundly than i have in long long time. Thank you my dear.’ Ford says softly as he gently moves you to the side, much to your surprise, as he decides to show his appreciation for you by making you your morning drink for you. ‘However I do believe I should return the favour, so sit yourself down at the table and I’ll take care of the rest.’ Before you could say anything in rebuttal, to tell Ford that you didn’t mind making your own morning drink, Stanley points his spatula at you then at the table.

‘You. Sit. Now. Ford is as stubborn as a mule dollface, so I would just let him do this if I were you.’ He tells you playfully as Ford looks at him with another halfhearted glare as he makes your drink the way you liked it, while as Stanley only smirked at his brother’s eagerness to pay your kindness forward. For you were the first person in thirty years to show Ford kindness, patience and concern for his sleep schedule, so needless to say he was determined to show that he cared for you just as equally.

[swagpeytato]

Yandere!Neglectful Batfam x Batmom!Reader PART 3

With the Batfamily

Everyone had gathered in the Bat cave, surrounding Tim as he looked over the divorce papers. He was struggling. Tim didn’t believe this was real. In fact he thought Y/n was full of shit, and just pulled this little stunt for attention, but he just wanted to be sure. Because if she left the media would get suspicious, and she would disrupt the natural order of the family. 

He didn’t believe it was real…….but it was very very convincing. Almost as if it was real. But it couldn’t be real…right?

Bruce was angry, and worried. He was so enraged that his wife would ever do this to his children-to him. Putting all this unnecessary stress on them, just because she wanted attention. And he didn’t even know how long she’d been gone…..come to think about it, he didn’t know the last time he even spoke to her. That’s what he needed to do!

How could he be so stupid? He just needed to call her phone, and that would be that. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through looking for her contact, only to see the last time it was dialed was 3 years ago. That was a little after Jason came back. How has it been that long? Brushing this aside, he called her, expecting it to be answered immediately, but was surprised when the caller ID said disconnected. This was getting worrisome. The others looked toward him with furrowed eyebrows. When had she disconnected her phone? And what was her new number? Why hadn’t she told him?

As he mulled over these questions, an unknown number called him. Thinking it was his wife, he answered it right away, with his hopes of finding out what was going on skyrocketing. What he didn’t expect was to hear a deep, familiar chuckle. The Joker. It was at this moment that Bruce’s world came crashing down.

With Y/n and the Joker

Y/n woke up with a grunt, the cold steel room being an anchor, bringing her back to reality. She didn't know where she was, and she hoped and prayed that what she did remember was a very unsettling nightmare. She knew, however, that this was false hope as she looked around the room, and saw the Joker leaning against the wall, his goons straying not too far from him. 

“I didn’t think it’d take ya that long to wake up. Although I should expect the Bat never trained ya, huh?” he chuckled darkly, his wide grin sending shivers down y/n’s spine. She knew she was in danger, but she couldn’t help herself from trying to save her case. 

“He won’t come!” she blurted out in desperation. He perked up at that. Seeing that she piqued his interest, she continued. “He doesn’t care about me. He hates me even, they all did, that’s why I was in Jump City……” she hesitated before continuing, “I needed to get away, and I doubt they even knew I was gone. Even if you do tell him you have me, he probably won’t come.”

The Joker was pleasantly surprised. He had already told Bruce, and he seemed to care about Y/n more than anything. He reacted even worse than he did with Jason. So either she was lying, which he doubted she was based on the look in her eyes, or, Bruce realized his mistakes, and was going to stop at nothing to correct it. 

The Joker knew Bruce, better than the back of his hand even, and how Bruce reacted under stressful situations. This however was not just a stressful situation, this was the “love of his life”, and this worried him. Batman had never sounded so angry. While he was lost in thought, Y/n spoke again, voice filled with sadness.

“You already told him, didn’t you?” all she felt was sorrow. She had been kidnapped, and even then, that wasn’t enough to garner attention from her family. She had already lost her parents not too long after she married Bruce, and now she was sure she had no one. “He’s not coming. You might as well just kill me, and get it over with…..” Tears leaked down her face as her voice trailed off.

“I don’t think I will. He seemed to care a lot when I told him I had ya. He was angry.” His smile had widened a significant amount, thinking of all the possibilities to beat Batman. This was going to be fun.

Hope you all enjoy! 😁 😁

@redkarmakai @moonieper @thatpersonnamedrook @madine11-blog @bat1212 @feral-childs-word @resident-cryptid @ch1cky-093 @sweetconnoiseurgardener @sillysealsies @dhanyasri @bloodyboi

[sunflowerreid]

“Please I haven’t felt you in a month” sub Spence! Love ur work babe!

I’m so sorry that this took so long but I’m back now hope you like it :))))) x

Finally - S.R

Warnings : sub Spencer, quickie, sex against the door, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), dry humping

Twenty three days. It had been twenty three days since you’d last seen Spencer. He’d been working a challenging case and had to stay behind afterwards to help with paperwork and to help the families of those that has lost loved ones. You’d of course spoken to him over the phone, helped him calm his anxiety whenever he was feeling stressed or confused but it wasn’t the same, you hated waking up alone in a cold bed. The phone calls were almost always cut short, Spencer had been sharing a hotel room with Morgan so your calls always ended up being interrupted by his snoring or complaining. To put it in simple terms, you missed him. His touch, his smell, how he snuggled up to you in the morning, you missed everything about him, big and small. Luckily you’d received a phone call from him before you went into work claiming he’d be home and waiting for you when you got home tonight. The relief you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced; since the moment you both became official this was the longest amount of time you’d spent apart from each other and you couldn’t wait to get back to him.

~One hour later~

He was home. The first thing you’d tripped over as you rushed through the door were his worn out, purple converse. They’d been chucked messily in the entranceway of your shared flat along with his satchel and coat. “Y/N!! Y/N!!” Spencer shouted, appearing from the bedroom after he’d heard the door open. “ANGEL!” You replied as he rushed towards you, arms wrapping around you, holding on as tight as he possibly could as he hid his face in your neck. “Missed you, missed you so much, love you” he whimpered trying to get impossibly closer to you. “I know angel, I know, never again okay I love you too honey” you soothed as you gently stroked his hair, fingers softly tangling in his curls.

His breathing slowed as his arms tightened around you, beginning to leave gentle kisses against the sweet spot of your neck. “Angel” you moaned as your finger tugged at his hair, bringing his head up to face you. “Please, please need you please” he whimpered as his hips began to grind gently against you, his head tilting back as he softly moaned. “So desperate for me angel” you whispered, putting your thigh in between his legs as his thrusts quickened. “God please, need you so badly haven’t felt you in a month” he sobbed getting closer to staining his boxers. “I’ve got you angel don’t worry” you reassured him, gently pushing his hips back and undoing his belt. “Against the door angel” you demanded, him immediately following your instructions as you pushed his trousers and boxers down together. His erection slapped up against his stomach, leaking, pulsing and as flushed as the rest of him. “FUCK” he shouted tears streaking down his face as you lowered to your knees taking the leaking tip of him into your mouth, tongue swirling against the sensitive slit. “God please, fuck please, need to cum please, PLEASE” he sobbed, hips twitching, thighs shaking as he hunched over slightly tangling his hands in your hair for some support.

“Alright honey, clothes off” you whispered realising how desperate he must be as he stripped himself of his shirt and with shaking hands helped you with yours. You jumped up into his arms as he held you up against the door pushing his sensitive tip through your wetness gently nudging your clit at the end of every thrust. “Alright angel no more teasing” you moaned. “M’sorry, gonna push in have to push in need to feel you” he begged, his ears ringing slightly. “Do it angel need to feel you as well” you whimpered slightly as he nudged the his thick tip inside. “FUCKK” he moaned as he thrusted inside filling you fully, “That’s it angel that’s it” you whispered head falling back against the door as he thrust up gently. “Please need to go faster can I go faster? Please baby please” he begged desperately. “Go on angel been so good for me” you moaned as he immediately pulled out before pushing back in. “God fuck, love you so much” he sobbed, head falling back into your neck as he thrust erratically into you hitting your spot every time. “That’s it angel so good” you moaned getting closer with every thrust. His legs shook desperately as his hips sped up losing his rhythm, “M’sorry m’so sorry gonna cum I can’t hold it M’sorry please can I cum?” He whimpered. He’d held on for longer than you’d expected, denying him would’ve been cruel. “Cum for me angel” you whispered in his ear. “YES FUCK YES” he screamed as he thrust one final time, his eyes rolled back as he shook violently against you. “Fuck angel that it” you moaned as you tightened around him, his orgasm triggering yours as you melted in between him and the door. “That’s it angel come back to me, did so well honey, love you so much” you whispered, soothing him after his harsh finish.

Hundreds of kisses, fifteen “I love you’s” and one shower later you were both tucked up in bed, legs tangled beneath the sheets as you slept peacefully for the first time in twenty three days. Blissfully unaware of the noise complaint currently being written by your neighbour. Nothing else mattered, absolutely nothing, he was finally home.

[d1g1tal-d1ary]

Part 2 of my addicted!Simon headcanon!!

Price always had a lot going on; being the Captain of a Task Force demanded a lot of time, energy and most of all - nerves.

So when one of the nurses on base had pulled him aside and said that she suspected someone stealing Morphine, all he did was nod and call in a meeting. Luckily, everyone had obliged to giving him a urine sample to let it be tested for drugs.

What no one seemed to notice was Simon's eyes staring into nothingness as all he did was pray that his heavy heart wouldn't give his covers away. His head was spinning because he searched for a way out of this - there had to be a way he didn't have to take it. And suddenly his mind started to wander off to you; the only one who'd met him without knowing he was Ghost. The only one who knew he had a problem - a fucking big one right now - and the only one who understood him was you.

One hand tightly gripping the little cup, the other one knocking loudly on your door. He didn't hesitate when the door opened; he simply pushed it open and walked into your tiny apartment.

"Simon?" you asked with a frown plastered on your face. You hadn't expected him - of course you hadn't so all you were wearing was one of your cute pyjamas you avoided to wear around him normally. "Is everything okay?"

"I messed up," was all that came across his lips with a heavy sigh. When his gaze met yours, all he could do was put the cup on your kitchen table and point at it. "I need your help."

You stepped closer and eyed the little cup and when you realized what exactly he'd asked you to do, you shook your head. "No, I'm not helping you fake a drugtest."

"Please, luvie," his eyes studied your face - he reduced the distance between you two quickly and took your face into his rough and calloused hands. "I'll never ask anythin' of you ever again. Just let me keep my job, fuck- it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane all this time."

Of course your heart sank when you heard his pleading and even more so when you looked up at him and you could see the desperation in his blue eyes. After moments had passed - which felt like years for Simon - you'd finally nodded and given in to him.

"I knew you'd understand," he whispered and pecked your lips before letting you go take the drugtest.

You'd never felt so dirty in your life. Pissing into a little cup while Simon waited impatiently outside the bathroom made you feel greedy and so, so worthless. But if you were being honest; there was nothing you wouldn't do for Simon. Of course you weren't supporting his addiction - that was the main reason you had broken up, after all. But he was your Simon. The closest you'll ever get to finding unconditional love.

A few days after Simon had given the sample to Price - he'd been the last to hand it over - the test results finally came. And Price would never doubt his team; they'd done everything together for years at this point, but he could also imagine one of his soldiers having an addiction as it was nothing new.

To his surprise and relief, all the test results came back negative. But looking at Simon's results made him frown - or more so, all he could do was huff at the result.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Simon had stepped into Price's office; not even thinking that it could have anything to do with the drugtest as he knew you hadn't taken any.

Price's eyes never left Simon's form. He watched him intensly as he took the seat across from Price's desk. "Yeah, well, the results came back and since you're L.T., I thought you'd deserve to know before everyone else."

Simon hummed in response while leaning back, silently thanking you again.

"Luckily, everyone's negative," Price announced which made Simon even more relaxed. "But.. The Lab was a bit confused and thought something went wrong as Simon Riley's clearly a male name."

"Captain, I don't think I can follow you," Simon had frowned under his balaclava.

Price barked a bitter laugh as he looked at the Lieutnant in front of him. "They found the hormone Beta-hCG in your piss. You wanna know what that means?"

All Simon could do was nod; unaware of what's to come.

"The fuckin' piss is from someone who's pregnant," Price lowly said. "So now we not only know this wasn't your piss, but I think you two would've been smart enough to know we‘d find out. So, Riley, should I say congratultions?"

Y‘all wanna read part 3???!!! 🙏😭

[snowballseal]

hihi! i was curious if you would be willing to do a drabble inspired by the sleepy affection with sylus piece, but with out good dr zayne? i feel like sleepy cuddles with him would be so comforting... regardless, thank you sm for sharing your writing!! every piece you've posted has always brought a smile to my face (kicking my feet all happily too) even for characters i'm not as interested in :)

Sleepy Affection ~ Zayne

Summary: It's winter, and there's nothing like cuddling with your sleepy doctor after you've both had a long day (or a long few days in Zayne's case).

Word Count: 1014

Note: I'm honestly so whipped for this man. Like, I'm so soft for him. And he's so soft for reader. This man would turn into a cuddly cat when he's tired, kinda like the misty invasion card (*eyes emoji*)

Hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request! And thank you for your really kind words. I'm glad my writing can make people happy.

---

Winters in Linkon are your favorite.

There’s something about the snow, the crisp chill in the air, the smell of peppermint drifting from the coffee shops. Every store is draped in twinkle lights and each street rings with the song of bells as people come and go. The kids seem somehow more feral and delightful, running through the parks in their brightly colored scarves, building snowmen wherever they can. Being a hunter, you’re drawn into more than a few snowball fights by groups of eager children who want to see your “fighting skills”.

But your favorite part about winters are the sleepy evenings. It’s the feeling of getting home after a long day, a deep chill in your bones alongside the exhaustion, ready to curl up in your blankets with a cup of hot cocoa and a movie. There’s nothing else like it.

And what makes it even better?

When your boyfriend joins you after his even longer shift.

Your apartment is quiet except for the playful soundtrack of ‘Elf’ humming in the background. You snuggle deeper into the couch, eyes glued to the window beside you, watching the thick snowflakes dance with the wind. They look like little ballerinas to your tired eyes, pirouetting round and round and round. Hypnotizingly graceful.

The front door opens with a muted click.

Lazily, you tear your gaze away from the window. You do your best to glance over the back of the couch, your cheek pressing into the cushion, too comfortable to move, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

Your heart flutters at the sight in front of you though. Zayne stands in the foyer, pulling off his many layers of warm clothes with a startling lack of grace. Snow clings to his dark hair and coat, falling to the ground with each of his sluggish movements. The doctor looks tired. His eyes meet yours, dark and warm, hooded just like your own.

You lift the edge of your blankets. A silent invitation.

Zayne trudges across the living room, his steps uncharacteristically heavy. He takes off his glasses and leaves them on the table behind the couch. You smother a giggle when he practically collapses against you. It’s like having a large cat curl around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with a long, content sigh.

Resting your cheek against his hair, you tuck your blankets around his shoulders, murmuring a soft, “Hey, baby.”

The doctor lets out a low rumble in response, drawing you impossibly closer. You inhale sharply when he slips his hands under your sweater, his freezing cold fingers desperately seeking out the warmth of your skin. You shiver as they trace delicately along your waist, slotting in the tight space between you and the couch.

“Your fingers are freezing,” you whine, jarred from your sleepy state.

Of course you don’t actually mind, though. Not with Zayne. Not when he nuzzles so cutely into your neck, murmuring the most unapologetic apology you’ve ever heard, his voice low and raspy with exhaustion. A fuzzy kind of fondness washes over you.

“Long day?”

Zayne sighs, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your throat, “I’ve slept only three hours in the past two days.”

Poor thing.

You feel a stab of pity for him. That might be the only drawback of winter, you suppose. Akso Hospital is always infinitely busier with this kind of weather. The snow always brings more accidents and Zayne always volunteers to work extra shifts when the need is dire, no matter the cost to his health. It’s something you love, but also something that worries you.

Brows furrowing, you card your fingers through his hair tenderly in hopes of helping him relax. It’s still a little damp from the snow. Zayne shivers when your nails trace over his scalp. Another shaky sigh escapes him when your hand dips under his collar to massage his nape. He practically melts under your touch, his weight pressing you deeper into the couch.

You’re not sure where the movie is now. The cup of hot cocoa on the side table is likely cold. But it’s hard to care. All you can focus on is Zayne. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The faint smell of jasmine hidden under the lingering scent of the hospital. The comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

Eyes fluttering shut, you nuzzle your face into his hair, hands going still around his shoulders. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours, drifting in and out of sleep as the snow dances outside. It all feels so distant, your blankets hiding you from the cold, from the rest of the world. 

It’s just the two of you.

The two of you, in your shared apartment, always coming home to one another. Just like this.

Your heart warms at the thought. Nudging his forehead gently, you draw Zayne back just enough to see his face. He looks back at you with those hooded eyes, hazel depths brimming with a reverent affection. Biting back a smile, you lean down to kiss him. It’s a tender thing, a mere brush of your lips against his, featherlight and full of devotion. It leaves the both of  you aching yet content as you draw away.

“I love you,” you whisper, nose brushing his sweetly.

“I love you as well, my dear,” he hums, a flicker of a tired smile gracing his lips.

You can’t resist pressing another kiss to them, your own smile breaking through, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

Without an ounce of resistance, Zayne settles back against you, his head resting on your chest. The soft thrum of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up and pulling him under. You listen as his breathing evens out, deep and slow.

And while you mean to stay up, you can’t resist the warmth, the comfort of having him there with you.

Vaguely, you hear the credit song playing as you drift off into sleep.

---

I have such a thing for calling stoic men 'baby', I feel like it's so soft and cute and he'd honestly probably melt for it. Idk, maybe just me, please don't come for me in the comments.

[222col]

second best | part two

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ you're after revenge, wanting to give patrick a taste of his own medicine, the question is, how long will it last? ★ 5.3k ★ 18+ | cw: smut: unprotected sex, choking, spanking ★ an: part one | take a shot every time u see the word thwaccckkkk

"you gonna win for me tomorrow?" patrick mumbles against your skin, his lips against your neck, arms around your waist as his hips buck up into you. you'd made it to the final of the tournament, your first final of a slam, in only your second pro season. biting down on his earlobe, legs wrapped around his waist, groaning into his ear. "yeah? gonna be a good girl and win for me?" he repeats, causing another moan from you. "you're so beautiful when you play, can't wait to watch you." it's as though the only time you and patrick are truly honest with each other is when you're fucking each other, drunk off the sex, too fucked out to play along with any games that exist between you. you can barely form words to respond to patrick, not that you'd need to, he can understand you without them. he mumbles more praise into your ear as he finishes inside you, panting against your skin. "my perfect girl." he whispers, placing open mouth kisses to your shoulder. my perfect girl. you're not even his girl, not really. immediately sliding off him, starting to get dressed as he attempts to pull you back onto the bed with him. "i need to prepare for tomorrow." you mumble, pulling your t-shirt over your head. "why are you being so bitchy these past few days?" he pokes, leaning back on his palms. "you've barely looked at me if i'm not literally inside you." you're biting back your words, holding in your anger that's so close to bubbling over. waiting desperately to chew him out, curse at him, scream every word you can think of at him, but you don't. you simply stand, walk over to the door, and tell him goodbye.

you'd vowed to yourself that your time in new york was the end of your time with patrick, as soon as the us open was over, so were you and him. you'd come to your senses after getting home the night of the quarter finals. you wanted revenge. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, make him sweat. show him what he was doing to you was wrong, that you deserved better than second best. it might be slightly immoral, but patrick had pushed you past limits you didn't know you had. you knew the easy thing would be just telling his girlfriend, but that was almost too easy. you wanted to see him worked up, wanted to see how far he'd go denying his feelings for you. how long he could go before snapping.

6-3. first set. 5-4. second set. you were one game away from lifting the trophy. one game away from your first grand slam title. 40-15. one more point. thwaccckkkk! the ball bounces onto the other side of the net and straight past your opponent, feeling yourself fall to the ground as the crowd erupts. letting a scream fall from your lips, pulling yourself back up to your feet. patrick's the first you see, stood with your team, wide grin plastered on his face as you walk over to shake your opponents hand. after you collect your trophy, doing all your press junkets, you head into the dressing room. seeing patrick sat there, on the bench waiting for you. "congrats, champ." he sits there smirking at you as you drop your bag to the floor. you walk straight over to him, standing between his legs as he wraps his arms around you. "i'm all sweaty, get off." you mumble, despite his grip only tightening. "no, i love it." he grins, his face pushing into your stomach, kissing the fabric that clings to your skin. "so proud of you." he whispers, inhaling your scent as his hands move down to your ass, underneath your skirt, massaging the flesh through your shorts. his face turns up, looking up to you as you stand before him, ripping your tight top off your body. breathing in deeply, before patrick stands, letting you peel his t-shirt from his body. pushing you up against the wall, his lips attaching to yours. his hands roaming your body, pushing your skort down your legs as you move your feet out from the pool of fabric. "let me look after you, winner." he mumbles into your skin of your neck, undoing his jeans and pushing them down his legs.

it's messy, desperate, the speed in which yours and his underwear are thrown behind you. his big hands lifting you up, laying you down on the bench, his legs either side of it. spitting in his hands, wiping it up and down his length. his hands gripping into your hips, pulling them up to meet him as he pushes himself into you. your back arched at the sensation, choking back moans as he fucks himself into you. his signature smirk across his face, seeing you squirm under his touch. his nails digging into your skin, skin slapping against yours. your already weak body losing more energy, letting patrick take complete control of you. "that's my good girl, let me take care of you." he hums, biting his lip, keeping his groans stuck in his throat. his eyes are glued to you, watching yours roll back into your head as he lifts your hips up even higher. "feel so fucking good baby." he mumbles praise, bringing your legs up to rest against his chest. pressing wet kisses to your ankles. your hands gripping the wooden panels of the bench, head flung back as a loud whimper leaves your mouth. "shush," patrick hums, chuckling almost. "you're gonna get us caught, princess." he leans forward, contorting your body as he moves one of his hands over your mouth. your brows are furrowed, looking up into his eyes as he pounds into you harder. your mouth agape under his calloused hand, his fingers tight on your cheekbones. his grip on your hip moves to bring his hand to your cunt, smirking as he watches you squirm once his thumb starts circling your clit. he loves you like this, a whimpering, sweaty mess under his touch. it's his favourite sight in the world, watching you unravel under him. all his over thoughts disappear the second you're alone with him. he'd live in his state if humanly possible.

your body jolts, writhing under his touch as you fall over the line. moans slipping through his fingers as he works you through your high. his head flinging back, shooting his load into you as he feels you clench around him. "holy fuck." he groans, gripping onto your ankles as he lets his cum drip down from you. both whimpering at the loss of sensation as he pulls out of you, letting your legs drop down to your sides. "jesus, that was fucking insane." he mutters, chuckling slightly. "i know." you smile back, walking over to the shower to clean yourself up as he gets dressed. walking back out in a new skort and matching top, zipping up your jacket as you pick up your bags. "that was the last time." you state, lips flatlined as you look to his position by the lockers. patrick's brows furrowing, kicking himself off the metal lockers to strand up straight. "what?" he questions, his mouth slightly agape. shrugging your shoulders as you open the door to the dressing room. "i'm not second best." patrick's speechless, watching you leave. his body slumping down onto the floor, his head flinging back into the lockers with force. "fuck!"

it's a month before you see patrick again, at the next tournament you're both competing at. a stream of unanswered texts flood your phone, along with a collection of drunk voicemails left by him. swept away by the attention winning your first slam, your focus on your tennis for the time being. half way across the world, you check into your hotel, readying yourself for the players mixer being held. walking into the hotel's function room, the hall already awash with players as you strut over to the bar. "will you just fucking talk to me?" you hear the familiar voice in your ear the second he reaches you. "fuck off, patrick." you murmur, before ordering yourself a drink. "you're killing me." he groans, his voice needy. "why won't you reply to any of my texts?" he questions, as you stand by a table, holding your drink in your hands, not looking to him. patrick's following you around like a puppy, desperate for you to just look at him, let alone reply. when you finally do, look at him, his breath catches in his throat. your eyes are soft, despite the rest of your face being utterly unimpressed by him. "i told you. it's over, patrick. leave it alone." you grumble, your words like knives to his chest. "go cry to your girlfriend." you spit, bringing your glass up your lips, looking away from him. "i don't have a girlfriend." he returns, leaning on the table, facing you. he's drinking in every move you make, every time you blink, inhaling your scent after a month away from you.

that was a new development. you bite back any form of reaction to patrick's words, just placing your drink back down on the table. he opens his mouth to speak again but he's cut off by another player entering the conversation. "hey, i'm jack. can I buy you a drink?" he smiles to you, leaning on his elbow to face you. patrick rolls his eyes, watching your body contort to face the voice beckoning you. "she's already got one." patrick mumbles, before you cut him off and nod your head to the brunette on the other side of you. "yeah, i'd like that." patrick grumbles, rolling his eyes as he watches you walk over to the bar, leaning his back on the table, glancing down to your half empty drink left beside him. he thought things would be easier, seeing you again. thought you'd come running back into his arms, especially now he'd dumped his girlfriend. but you don't. you spit at him, crush him more than the month of unanswered texts did. he sighs, picking up the remainder of your drink, downing it all as he watches you laugh and lean into the guy you're with. he spends the night sulking, drinking, watching you. pushing away the people who attempt to talk to him, too focused on watching your interactions. you're hanging onto jack's arm by the end of the night, letting him lead you upstairs, to his room. all patrick can do is watch. watch you slip further away from his grasp, while drowning his sorrows in more alcohol, that he won't be thankful for tomorrow during the first round of press.

patrick's there, always there, wherever you are the whole weekend of press and promo. following you around, just to see you. even if it means seeing you flirt and shower men that aren't him in your attention. he's lost, dumfounded on how to act if you aren't with him. desperate just to hear your velvety voice, see your lips upturn in reaction to his words, not someone else. he's consumed with need, attempting to distract himself with his tennis, not that it's working. he's panting, sweat dripping from his body on the practise courts when you walk out. seeing jack on the other side of you, carrying both sets of racket bags. throwing the ball down onto the floor a few times, breathing in before serving it across the court, met with a nod of approval by his coach. his eyes coast over to you, setting up your things, ready to play against jack. you've replaced him. you're doing everything you used to with patrick, but with another man. you don't need him anymore. it doesn't help patrick's ego that jack's ranking is much higher than his own. patrick attempts to carry on with his training, ignore the distraction of you only two courts away, but he's struggling. "get it together, patrick. c'mon." his coach presses, shouting over instructions as balls keep flying his way. it's almost impossible to concentrate on anything that isn't you. especially when he hears your grunts as you hit the ball over the net. trying to snap himself out of it, out of the very impure thoughts he's thinking. thwaccckkkk! patrick serves the ball with all his frustrations, receiving eyes on him as he does. "not bad, zweig." you half smile to him across the courts. he swears his heart stops beating.

you'd both made it through the round of 32, you're sitting in the recovery pool a couple hours after the match when patrick walks in. you don't notice the door open, only noticing his presence when his smirk forms in front of you, slipping into the small pool, sitting opposite you. "i see you're enjoying the tournament." patrick teases, his arms spread over the edges of the pool. "it's only just started." you return, pulling your legs closer to your body, away from his. "i meant more the company." he pushes, that signature smirk not leaving his lips. he wants to push you, tease you, how you're pushing him. "not that it's any of your business." you scoff, titling your head over to where he sits in the water, trying to read his expression. his hands raise in defence as he sucks on his teeth. "are you gonna be like this with me for the rest of the tour?" his tone becoming more serious as he gulps. his heart rate quickening, realising how close your body is, in such little clothing. he hadn't been alone with you for over a month, his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek, holding back his urge to reach out and touch you. you don't respond, just rolling your eyes and looking away from him. "tell me you don't want me and i'll leave you alone." the words leave patrick's lips before he can even realise what he's said. his stomach in knots the second he realises what he's proposed, he wouldn't be able to stay away even if you did tell him that. "i don't want you." the words hit his chest before his ears, his gaze on you intense as his bottom lip is moves between his teeth. patrick's brows furrow, just looking at you as his body floods with emotion. "you don't mean that." he chokes out. all you do is stare back at him, your face unreadable as you do. the water splashes onto your chest as patrick abruptly exists the pool, wrapping the towel around his waist as he looks down to you, your eyes lifting to look up to him. your gaze still soft, as it always is with patrick. "whatever." he mumbles, pushing the door open as he scrambles out of the room.

you distract yourself with tennis, or attempt to. lying to yourself that you don't want patrick. that you don't want to run to him, to be with him, to be his. if it wasn't tennis you used as a distraction, it was jack. he knew your head was elsewhere, so was his, so it worked. you were making your way through the tournament, into the round of 16, as was patrick. a lot of eyes obviously on you after winning the us open, your ranking moving up as well as the media circus that followed you. 'new tennis power couple?' was the article you were sent, with pictures of you and jack attached. rolling your eyes as you scrolled mindlessly through the so called news site. laughing about it with jack as you joined up with him for lunch, hearing the whispers around the hall as you sat together. patrick sat alone, pushing around the food on his plate, seeing the updates come out about you and jack. he should have known not to believe it, he knows how the media can be. you're barely even touching jack in the pictures, he doesn't know you like patrick does. but it doesn't stop the pit in his stomach as he watches the two of you together. it's only when he's alone in his hotel room that he texts you, adding another message to the number of texts he'd sent over the course of the month.

patrick: i know i said i'd back off but just tell me it's not true

sighing at notification on your phone, the bright screen lighting up the empty room. you try to fight off the urge to reply, knowing exactly what he's referencing. eventually, your head wins, turning the phone off and going to downstairs to the hotel lobby, your next match wasn't until the day after tomorrow. the read receipt highlighted on patrick's phone as he sits on the chat. throwing the phone across the room after a while of sitting there waiting. after throwing a shirt on his body, he wandered down to the hotel lobby. you're already down there, sat alone with a drink in hand. patrick quietly orders himself a drink and sits down across from you. "please, just talk to me." he sighs, leaning closer to you over the table. "patrick, i-" your defences are down, too tired, too frustrated. "i know i hurt you, okay? i'll never forgive myself for that, but i miss you." he babbles, his hand inching closer towards yours. "i'm so sorry, i want you, okay, just you." he whispers, his words coming out more like sobs than fully formed sentences. you're about to open your mouth to reply, when jack appears in front of you. you'd texted him to meet you down here. looking to patrick before back up to jack, standing up to kiss his lips. it was a low blow, you knew that, but patrick deserved it. he'd ruined your self-respect, you earned your right to serve his karma to him. patrick doesn't say anything, just watches. watches your hands wrap in his hair, watches your body melt against his, watches his heart get ripped out of his chest. you make eye contact with patrick as you push jack away towards the elevators, his face emotionless.

it was fate. horrible, twisted fate that patrick would draw jack in the quarter finals. everyone was backing jack to win, he was on paper the better player. more pragmatic, less chaotic than patrick. but patrick knew he had a point to prove. his eyes immediately found you in the stands at he walks out onto the court, his smirk present as he sets down his things. you're sat with a few of the friends you've made during the tour, barely able to focus on the conversation around you, eyes darting between patrick and jack sitting before you on the court. thwaccckkkk! your nails are half bitten off by the end of the first set, your heart in your chest at the end of the second. 6-2, 6-4. one set each. patrick was playing more erratically than usual, his curls slick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his chin. thwaccckkkk! patrick's eyes dart to you. "game, set, match, zweig." patrick's body slumps to the floor, his arms resting on his knees, catching his breath before walking across the court to shake jack's hand. his eyes dart up to you again, to your empty seat. his eyes search for you, catching a glimpse of you exiting the stands. slumping down onto the floor again, thinking how it didn't mean anything. his win, to you, met nothing.

it's 10pm when you hear the knocking on your hotel door, jumping up from your place on the bed, opening the door to patrick. ready to close the door on him before he barges in. "i fucking won, and you just leave?" his voice already raised, facing you as you close the door. "so what?" you scoff, arms crossed against your chest. "i won, i beat him." his tone angry, his chest already pounding. "i didn't realise you were playing for my attention." your words are sharp, cutting through to him. "of course i fucking was!" patrick shouts, his body only two foot away from your own. "everything i do is to get your attention." his voice still raised. your lips are flat, just staring at him, but eyes still soft. "you are killing me." he almost whispers. "patrick, this was never going to end well, just look at how we started." your voice starts to increase in volume, fed up of this wounded puppy display patrick is showing. "i don't want it to end at all." you're both shouting now, not caring about who can hear through the hotel walls. "this is fucking ridiculous, i'm not your girlfriend, never fucking was." you spit your words out, arms dropping to your sides. "i'm not the only one who was cheating, you know? or did you forget that when you jumped on your high horse?" patrick's words are pointed, his body stepping closer towards you. "yeah, but i actually dumped my boyfriend! for you, patrick!"

he doesn't know how, he doesn't remember telling his body to move, but he definitely doesn't mind that it did. his hands are cupped around your face, his lips smashed into yours. you push yourself off of him, looking into his eyes before immediately crashing your lips back onto his. it's messy, tongues slipping over each others, your hands grabbing at the fabric around his waist. "tell me you want me." patrick mumbles into your mouth, his hands moving to grip at the hairs on your scalp. a grumble falls from you, your tongue pushing further into patrick's mouth before he pulls your head away by your hair. forcing your eyes to look to his, his fist balled around your hair. "tell me you fucking want me." you want to punch the smirk off his face, your breath heavy as you stare into his half-lidded eyes. "i want you." he pulls your head back further. "tell me again." your mouth agape, a quiet whimper escaping you. "i want you." you moan out, his grip loosening as his lips attach to yours again, only parting to pull your t-shirt over your head. "good girl." he whispers, as your fingers pull his shirt off his body. it's moments before patrick reaches down, hooking your thighs under his grip, lifting you up and walking over to the bed. his lips only detaching from yours when he throws your body down onto the mattress. patrick's eyes are dark as he crawls over your body, his lips kissing up from your stomach before he reaches your neck. propped up on your elbows as his mouth nips and sucks at the base of your neck, quiet hums of pleasure from you rush to his ears like it's the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "missed your skin." he mumbles against your jaw, wrapping his lips around your earlobe. "shut up." you groan, your head angling to expose more of your neck to him.

"oh, you wanna be a little brat do you?" his evil smirk shows again, fingers digging into the sides of your wrists as he pins them up above your head. he manoeuvres to capture your wrists with one of his hands as the other pushes your shorts down to your knees, slipping his hand into your panties, groaning as he feels your wetness. using his knee to push your legs apart, your shorts bunching at your ankles as you free your feet from the pool of fabric. "so wet for me already." he teases, his fingers sliding through your folds as he starts circling your clit. patrick's mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone as you struggle trying to free your arms from his grip. all he does is push your wrists further into the mattress, his fingers digging into your skin. his eyes glare into yours as he watches every expression you make, not daring to look away as the pace of his fingers speeds up. "mmm, so close," you mumble, your back arching before patrick rips his fingers away, letting go of your wrists at the same time. "what the fuck." you grumble, a slight pout on your lips, only causing an evil chuckle from patrick. "you don't get to cum until i'm inside you." he smirks, ripping your panties down your legs before standing up to pull his shorts down his legs along with his underwear. "you're so fucking annoying." you continue complaining as patrick crawls over your body again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "why are you so desperate to fuck me then?"

your mouth opens to reply, words inching out as patrick's hand wraps around your throat. "shut the fuck up." he smirks, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck as you fight for breath. your hand moves to grip as his wrist, watching as patrick lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth down onto your cunt. sitting himself up on his knees, your thighs resting against his as his free hand drifts to rub his cock against you. smearing his spit into your wetness, teasing your entrance as he pushes himself in an inch. your head pushing back into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed as you attempt to ask him for more. "look at me." he orders, his eyes dark and half-lidded as you eventually look to him. "good girl." he groans as he slides himself in fully. patrick finally removes his hand from your throat, moving to squeeze the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you without mercy. his nails cutting into your skin as moans echo around the room, his body falling on top of yours as you clench around him. his forehead pressed against yours, open mouthed kisses pressed to your jaw. your arms wrapped around his body, clawing at his shoulder blades as your legs move to trap his body against yours. sucking bruises onto patrick's neck as his hips smash against yours repeatedly. he groans as he slides out you, flipping your body over and pulling your ass up against him. barely being able to register what's happened by the time his cock slides into you again, scrambling to prop yourself up onto all fours. thwaccckkkk! the sound of his open palm against your ass sends a shiver down your arching spine, as loud moans escape your throat. patrick spanks the flesh of your ass again before grabbing a handful of your hair, pulling your chest up closer to his body. patrick's grunts fill your ears as the hand on your ass reaches below you, his fingers drawing circles against your clit. his teeth nipping at the skin on your shoulder as he pulls you closer, your back flush against his chest. patrick can tell you're close to the edge, feeling the way you clench around him and the volume of your moans getting louder.

"cum for me baby, be a good little girl and cum for me." patrick mumbles against your skin, licking the skin of your neck. his words force you to let go, an almost scream leaving your lips as your body nearly crumbles at the sensation. patrick's grip on your hair keeping you upright, humming into your neck. he lets you ride out your high before pushing your chest down into the mattress, his big hands gripping at the sides of your body under your arms as he fastens his pace. your face near enough buried in the mattress as you turn to try and look up to him behind you, patrick groaning louder as you do. "so fucking pretty like this." he murmurs, nails digging into your flesh as he slams his hips against your ass once more, filling your insides with his load. "jesus fucking christ." patrick groans as his body falls flat on top of you, panting as he places sloppy kisses to your back. feeling his load start to drip down you as he slides out and falls to the side of you.

your bodies are bruised and scratched, staring into each others eyes as you both attempt to return your breathing to a normal pace. patrick leans over, kissing your lips sweetly as you manoeuvre onto your side. "i take it that means you and jack aren't a thing, right? or did you just cheat on another boyfriend?" patrick almost laughs at himself, as you swat his arm. "you're such an asshole." you laugh, shaking your head at him. this is what he'd missed. your laugh, the way you looked at him, you being the only person in the world who could put him in his place. the way you put up with him, how you always knew what to say. moving to brush his curls off his forehead, letting your fingers rest against his cheek, slowly caressing his skin. "i meant what i said, that i just want you." patrick whispers, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "i know." you smile, your thumb still rubbing back and forth on his face. the silence is comfortable, eyes locked on each other, peaceful. waking up the next morning, it's as though everything has fallen back into place. patrick joins you training, returns to his regular position opposite you on the practise courts. there's no conversations about your relationship, patrick's too scared to ask. too scared to question, he doesn't want to risk pushing you away again.

thwaccckkkk! sitting in the box with patrick's coaches and the rest of his team, watching patrick play in his first final of his professional career. you'd unfortunately been knocked out during the semi-finals, meaning the rest of your time during the tournament was spent helping patrick prepare. you could tell patrick was nervous, despite no one else picking up on it. to the average eye, he was calm, playing as chaotically controlled as usual. sweat was dripping from every inch of his skin, his black tank stuck to his chest as he rolled the racket between his hands. patrick was a set up against his opponent, he'd won six games to four. his eyes glance over to the box, listening to his coach's advice, letting his eyes wander to you as he does. the silence is almost eery, not that he wasn't used to it during matches, but the silence before serves is when he really considers his surroundings. he's in the final, his first final. he's a set up, he could actually win this. you're a wreck, anxiously watching from the stands as patrick wins another game. a smirk rushes onto your face, watching patrick hit a tweener, to win the match. jumping up to your feet with his team as the crowd erupts. it's as though patrick doesn't register it, until he looks at you. his racket drops from his hands, falling onto his knees, letting the wash of emotion rush over him. he shakes his opponent's hand before security bring him through the crowd to his team. engulfed in hugs by his coaches, shouting how proud they are of him before he escapes their grip. moving down to you, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you up to the air. "i knew you'd win." you giggle into his ear as he places you down onto the ground, his teethy grin not leaving his face. his hands stay wrapped around you as his lips crash into yours, in the middle of the crowd, in front of cameras from every angle. "i can't believe you just did that." you smile, blush creeping onto your cheeks as you feel every set of eyes on you. "what? i can't kiss my girl after winning my first title?" patrick chuckles, hands pulling you flush against him. "oh, your girl, huh?" you laugh, hands snaking around his neck, his lips grazing yours as he speaks. "you know you're mine."

[wooziorgans]

moon song || ljh

warnings: post breakup au. ex idol!reader. reader has an implied suicide attempt(s) in the past. reader is implied to do something akin to relapsing at the end of the fic. ed talk. lots of pressure that comes w being an idol. clubs. drinking. seungcheol hates y/n for leaving. leaving the idol industry behind. seeing your ex after four years. hurt w very little comfort. right person, wrong time.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: vent piece mostly. abt my frustration of still being sick, abt my frustration of not seeming to get better, abt how it never seems to stop. abt all of my wasted potential as a person. all of it, none of it, everything and nothing at all. i am so tired.

please read with caution. this is just a lot of emotions all in one place.

The loud bass that hits your head as soon as you enter the club makes your head pound immediately. It’s been four long years since you’ve even been in this part of Seoul, let alone been in a club with this group of ex-colleagues.

Ex-colleagues is certainly one way to put it. They were all so much more, and you know that this is just an excuse for all of them to get drunk. You wonder briefly if Jihoon’s here. He never used to drink, but then again, he didn’t do a lot of things until you were in the picture. You wonder how much has changed now that you’re not.

The memory of him burns like a hot iron branding your back, and you head to the nearest table of refreshments to grab a drink. If he’s here, you’ll need all the alcohol you can get your hands on. Maybe that makes you no better than anyone else; no better than the scene you so desperately needed to leave four years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You’re no longer apart of it. What you do now won’t cost you your career. If the night ends with you passed out in an alley way simply because you saw your ex at an album release party for an album he produced, so be it. He never comes to these things anyways.

At least, he didn’t when you knew him. You haven’t known Jihoon for a long time. It’s been four years after all; a lot can change in a week, let alone four years.

Like your decision to leave the K-pop industry. You had mulled over it for weeks, before you brought it up to anyone, and you didn’t go to Jihoon first. He was the last person you told. At least, officially, that you were leaving.

All those years of work as a trainee, just for it to be nothing. All of the tears, the angry screams into your pillow, the poverty your company forced you into in the first few years of your career because it was boarding on bankruptcy. All of this wasted potential. Maybe you could’ve been someone great.

You were, for a few years. Your group took off, and the first few years of success made all of the hard work feel like it was worth something. But as the saying goes, too much of a good thing won’t be good for long.

The pressure started to build, and it built until it boiled over and you were found on the verge of doing something terrible in your bathroom by your boyfriend and your manager after a week of unusual silence. Jihoon never was a crier, but god did he sob as he held you in the back of the ambulance. He had never begged for anything the way he begged for you to talk to him.

Please, god, please talk to me Y/N. Please, baby. I can’t— I can’t lose you.

It’s funny, really, how things work out. You dug yourself so deep into this hole of despair from the pressure of being an idol, that the only way out of it was to completely separate yourself from that life and start over.

After terminating your contract, you broke up with Jihoon. Or, you didn’t break up with him, only told him that you needed to take a break while you sorted yourself out. After being on a break for four years, is it still just a break? Or are you broken up at that point?

Both you and Jihoon know the answer to that.

Three years of no social media, no articles about you, none of your old friends reaching out to check in on you because they held a contractual obligation to be nice to you in the hallways. Three and a half years out of the spotlight. Three and a half years of peace, of healing, of sorting your life out and learning how to breathe again.

It’s been four years without Jihoon, and you didn’t really think much about the consequences that potentially sharing a space with him would have. But now they’re suffocating. All you can think about is the potential possibility of him being here, which, he wouldn’t be, right? He hates these kinds of gatherings. He used to skip his own release parties to watch shitty romance movies with you on the couch in his studio.

Does he have someone new to watch romance movies with? Or has he given up romance altogether? You know from the first few months, updates provided by Soonyoung, that he didn’t take the distance very well. You know that he missed you, and he worried about you constantly. You know you’re spiralling, and you know all those years of therapy will be for nothing if you don’t pull yourself out of it.

You don’t have to do that, because Seungkwan does it for you. “Y/N? You came!” He seems elated that you’re here, off his rocker, probably drunk.

“Of course I came! It’s your first album as BSS, Seungkwan.” You smile, and it’s not forced at all. You have completely forgotten how easy it is to fall into banter with Seungkwan. It’s almost like you never left in the first place.

Except something in his eyes seems off. That’s your first red flag to turn around and get the fuck out of this club, but you don’t. “My god. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” With anyone else, the small talk would’ve taken you out back and killed you. It’s different with Seungkwan.

Different how? He was one of the only people who consistently checked in on you when you first left. As you settled into your new life, the texts became less frequent; now, four years later they’re hardly anything to notice, but he’ll still send you a text on every holiday, and he’s wished you happy birthday every year since you met him.

“I’m doing a lot better. I’m… I’m good.” You laugh softly. Seungkwan smiles at you.

“That’s good. I’ve missed having you around— of course I don’t expect you to come back into this scene, but it would be nice to see you sometime.” Seungkwan squeezes your shoulder softly and smiles wider.

“Yeah, of course. I know I’ve been gone, but I’ll make it less hard to get a hold of me. I’ve missed all of you, truth be told.” You smile back. “I’ve just… been doing a lot of healing and I think it’s about time I finally start reconnecting with people. Is everyone here?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. We’re all here! I kind of spilled that I invited you so everyone decided to come just in case you showed up.” The depth of all doesn’t really seem to cross Seungkwan’s mind; he’s certainly not thinking about Jihoon right now, or Seungcheol for that matter. You’re pretty sure Seungcheol would punch you if he caught sight of you. Maybe Jihoon would too. You have no idea how Jihoon even feels about you.

“Even, uh, Jihoon?” The smile falls from Seungkwan’s face.

“Oh. Yeah. He’s here too.” Seungkwan swallows when he sees your face shift. “You… he-he wants to talk to you. It’s not my place to really say, but he’s not mad. I think he just wants closure.”

So maybe Jihoon wouldn’t punch you. That’s a bit of a relief.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You came!” It’s Seokmin, very clearly drunk. You didn’t keep in contact with him, though he did send you a few paragraphs over text as he wished you all the best, telling you to reach out if you ever needed anything. You didn’t take him up on the offer.

“I did!” You smile, tilting your head as you look up at Seokmin.

“Can I have a hug?” He’s already opening his arms and you slide right into them. His hug is firm and warm. You’ve missed Seokmin a lot more than you cared to admit. Seungkwan grumbles about how he should’ve asked for a hug and you laugh, pulling him into one.

You catch up with Seokmin briefly before he’s being pulled away by someone you don’t know. You stick with Seungkwan, talking about your life, the album, avoiding the subject of Jihoon.

And then you turn your head at the bright sound of laughter, and you see him. You see him, and he’s not the same mess he was when you left him with no promise of when you’d see each other next. He’s not the scared man in his early twenties who had no idea if you were going to die on him. He’s not the man who stayed with you in the hospital for days on end.

He’s not the producer you knew who’d slide his headphones over your ears as he pulled you into his lap. He’s not the warm hand that held yours because you forgot your gloves again. He’s not the hushed giggles at four in the morning, or the hurried kisses, or the soft whimpers and praises as you tangled yourselves in his bedsheets.

Jihoon isn’t yours anymore.

You had hoped he wouldn’t be such a sore subject for you anymore, but seeing him in all of his glory four years later… god does it fucking hurt. You’ve done a lot of healing in the last four years, but in that time you never really had the time to process the loss of Jihoon.

Soonyoung spots you, and that’s when you know you’re doomed, because if Soonyoung is distracted, Jihoon always notices the thing that catches him off guard. You try to pull your eyes away from Jihoon, but you can’t. You swear he’s gotten more beautiful in the last four years.

He’s gotten bigger, physically— far more muscular. You can see the curve of his pecks through his shirt, one that isn’t even tight against his body. Jihoon’s always been a big fitness buff, but it appears he’s put more effort into himself. His biceps strain against the fitted sleeves of his long sleeve black shirt.

Jihoon’s face looks different too. He still has the same round cheeks you used to always pinch and prod at. His jawline is still soft, but it’s more defined. His eyes are bright, and the bags under them are still there. You wonder briefly if he’s ever gotten rid of them; if the skin under his eyes has ever matched the rest of his milky complexion.

His hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Dark and flowy, it’s reflective and healthy, half tied up with what would be his undercut hanging freely. A few pieces frame his face. It looks soft and healthy. Jihoon looks soft and healthy.

He’s smiling as he scans the crowd to find what Soonyoung is distracted by, and then he spots you. The smile is wiped off of Jihoon’s face faster than your brain can even register it. Seungkwan stiffens beside you, hand finding your shoulder to steady you as you stumble briefly, but the pull between you and Jihoon is too much.

Both of you start moving towards each other, pushing your way through the crowd. “Y/N.” His voice comes out in a breath, chest heaving and then he’s there, right in front of you, after four years.

You don’t know what to say, can’t process the fact that he’s in front of you, as beautiful as ever. “Jihoon,” you echo, “hi.” You can’t help the small smile that threatens to pull at your lips. The tension on Jihoon’s face eases, but he doesn’t smile back.

“Hi. How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, and if it was anyone else, it would’ve been a sad attempt at small talk. It’s Jihoon, so you know he’s asking how you’re doing now, if you’re better. A part of him is asking if you still feel like killing yourself. The answer to the last part is no.

“I’m… better. A lot better.” You laugh awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t doing okay.” Now, Jihoon actually does smile at you, and though it’s small, it’s still there.

“You look a lot better. Healthier. I’m glad.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink as he looks down at you. He’s right; you’re much healthier now. There’s solid meat on your bones, your thighs touch and your ribs don’t show anymore. Your face has filled out, cheeks full and round. Your eyes don’t look as though they’re sunken into your skull, they’re brighter now; they seem to shine with life in a way they never have before.

Jihoon takes you in properly, and god, you’ve gotten so much more beautiful since the last time he saw you. It hurts. It hurts a lot to see how good you look now, without him. He knows it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it still hurts nonetheless.

You look healthy, like an actual person and not a skeleton, and you were never that way when you were an idol. You were never like that when you were with Jihoon.

“Oh, um, thank you. Should we… should we sit? We have a lot to talk about.” You laugh again to hide your nerves. Jihoon can still read you, and he knows you’re brimming with nerves. He knows you’re a little scared, probably more than a little, and he is too.

You’ve never breached the subject, hardly even talked about your breakup. Jihoon doesn’t like to think about it. He just doesn’t. He doesn’t like to think about how much worse you were doing, even if it destroyed him. The breakup was harder on you, tenfold, and you went through it alone.

“I- uh. Yeah, yeah, we can go sit. It’s probably about time we talk.” Jihoon laughs nervously, closing his eyes for a second. He wordlessly starts walking towards the vacant booths of the club. You follow close behind.

Jihoon sits down, and you take a seat across from him. It’s silent for a few moments. Both of you are staring at your cups, not drinking, just swirling your liquids of choice.

Jihoon speaks first, but he can’t look at you. “Why’d you have to leave me?” He asks, and his voice breaks softly as he says it. You certainly weren’t expecting that as the first question he asked, but you don’t really know what else he would’ve asked.

“I… I had to leave everything that had to do with being an idol behind. You… you included.” It’s a shitty answer, but you can’t think in Jihoon’s presence.

“I understand that, but I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you get help. You didn’t have to do it by yourself, Y/N. I loved you; I would’ve done anything to make sure you were safe.” Jihoon’s bites at his lip, eyes sparkling in the low lights of the club. He looks like he’s about to cry, and god does it break your heart.

He loved you, past tense. It’s jarring. It stings, but what else did you expect? For him to still want you? That’s unrealistic and completely unfair to expect from him.

It hits you then that you might still be in love with him. That makes this next part so much harder.

“I know. I know, but it made sense to me at the time. I can’t- I can’t rationalize anything that I did at that time in my life. None of it makes sense, but I made a lot of choices that I regret and I can’t go back on them now. It’s too late for that and I’m- I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, Jihoon. All of it; everything, god, I’m so sorry.” You spill, and the soft burn in the back of your throat makes it hard to speak as you try not to cry. “You didn’t deserve to deal with any of it.” You whisper softly.

“Y/N,” Jihoon whispers back, “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want closure.” Closure. Jihoon wants closure, meaning he wants to move on. The tears in his eyes shine brightly, though they don’t fall, but he’s crying nonetheless, and that makes you feel worse.

“I don’t deserve that though. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for just leaving you. Seungcheol still hasn’t forgiven me; why the hell would you?” You swallow hard, and that seems to break the dam as the first few tears slip down your cheeks.

“Seungcheol has his own issues. We never told him the full story, and maybe that’s why he’s still… iffy about the whole thing. But I forgive you. I just, I want to stop hiding from you. I don’t want to be worried about running into you somewhere and not knowing what to say. I still care about you, so much, and, god does it fucking kill me to still worry about you when you’ve never made an effort to reach out to me.” Jihoon’s always been blunt, so you should’ve expected this, but it makes you feel worse; guilty. “I would’ve answered your calls, in a heartbeat. You know I would’ve.” Jihoon blinks, and the first few tears fall down his face.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to call you after so long. I spent six months in and out of the hospital, and after that I had to get back on my feet. By the time I even had time to think about calling you, it’d been a year, and to me that was too late.” You close your eyes and exhale deeply, fingers twitching.

Jihoon used to hold your hands when you were upset to stop them from twitching so much. He used to pull your head close to his chest and wipe your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He makes no effort to do so now. Jihoon can’t even look at you properly.

He’s focused on picking at the calluses on his palms. Some things never change.

“You- six months? Y/N, fuck, I had no idea. I knew it was bad but, shit, really?” Jihoon’s voice breaks fully, and all you can do is nod. “How many more times? How many times did you—?” He can’t finish his sentence. His throat closes up.

“Four.” Jihoon has nothing to say in reply. He can’t, not with the deep hurt that settles in his chest, so you elaborate. “I really just wanted to die. The media was on my ass for the first year and it was just bad. I spent the next year after that in a rehabilitation program to fix my relationship with food and it helped a lot. I found a good therapist and I’m still seeing her. It’s helped a lot. I’m- I’m clean.” You pick up your cup, hand shaking, and take a large drink to calm your nerves.

“I’m really glad that you’re healthy now. Really, god, that’s such a relief.” Jihoon’s tears are steady now. He wipes at them with his sleeve. You mutter a soft thank you.

Outside of the booth, the noise has been blocked out by your conversation, but you hear something peculiar. It’s Seungcheol, his voice is loud and booming. He’s angry.

“What the fuck are they doing here?! Seriously, why did you even invite them?” Both you and Jihoon look up at the same time to see Joshua and Mingyu trying to deescalate the situation. Seungkwan is yelling back, face red as he tries to block Seungcheol’s view of the booth you and Jihoon are sat in.

“No, I’ve fucking had it with all of you. Defending them for just fucking leaving Jihoon without a word. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring them here?” Seungcheol is drunk and looking for a confrontation with you, and that’s enough of a threat to have you and Jihoon standing as he tries to usher you out of the club without Seungcheol seeing.

“Fuck, you should probably go.” Jihoon pulls you close to him, shielding you from Seungcheol’s view. You nod, walking fast beside him as you push your way through the crowd.

“Yah! You, get the fuck back here!” Neither of you listen as you push your way out of the door. You make the mistake of looking behind you to see Joshua and Mingyu physically holding Seungcheol back. Wonwoo is there now too, standing in front of him to prevent him from walking.

The outside air is cold and bitter. You shiver as you pull out your phone to order a ride. You and Jihoon are completely silent. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you.

“I’ll wait with you. How long?” He asks, voice shaky.

“Two minutes.” You only have two minutes left with Jihoon. It’s so finite, the time you’re spending with him. If only you had more time.

You’re not afforded that luxury as you shiver beside him. “Can I- is it okay if I—?” You nod, unsure of what he’s asking. It’s a yes either way. Jihoon pulls you into his arms in a tight, warm hug. His hands don’t find their way into your hair, or rub your back. He just holds you. It’s all he can do.

Both of you ignore the mutual swell of warmth in your chests. You’re still in love with him, you know that, and that’s why the car seems to show up in no time. Your phone chimes as the car pulls up in front of the club as you reluctantly start to separate yourselves.

There’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You tell him so. “We, fuck, I had so much more to say. I had so much more to explain. You, god, you were the right person, Jihoon. Everything else was just so wrong.” You thought the weight would’ve been lifted off your chest, but it only hurts more. You close your eyes as you turn away.

“Y/N, fuck, don’t do this to me right now.” Jihoon whispers, eyes filling with tears once again.

“I’m sorry Jihoon. I love you. I’ll see you around.” You open the door to the car.

“I, yeah. Take care of yourself.” Jihoon can’t look at you, no way in hell can he look at you as you close the door and drive off. He stands still in the cold, watching as the car disappears from his sight. He leans against the wall, head falling back as the tears start pouring freely.

As he pushes the door to the club open, it hits him hard, fills his whole body as a bone deep love for you settles. And it hurts, god does it hurt. Seungcheol’s calmed down, but the snide remark that slips past his lip doesn’t even register in Jihoon’s brain. All Jihoon recognizes is his tone, and that’s enough.

“I’ll punch you right in your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, I swear to god. Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hardly ever makes threats, but when he does it has everyone going quiet. Seungcheol, Joshua and Mingyu stop in their tracks. There’s been enough drama for one night.

Jihoon grabs a new drink and chugs it, before he goes to grab his coat. He needs to get out of here before the sob building in his throat bursts.

You manage to keep your tears at bay until you enter your apartment. You find yourself in the bathroom, against the cold tile and the porcelain of the bathtub. You don’t do anything, just sit there and breathe as the tears flow freely.

It wasn’t supposed to end like that. You were supposed to have more time to reconcile with Jihoon. You and bathrooms have seen a lot of hurt. Most of your bad decisions are made in bathrooms. You don’t do anything, you just sit there for a few minutes as you cry.

Nothing happens the next night. Or the night after. A week after the release party, Jihoon still plagues your mind and that’s when you crack. Your old manager turned friend answers the phone.

“Hi. You okay?” Yena asks softly, voice ridden with sleep.

“Drive me to the hospital? I think I need stitches.” You laugh nervously. The adrenaline has worn off and all you feel is regret.

“Y/N.” She sighs, but it’s not disappointment. She’s seen a lot of things with you, and supported you through all of them. You’re the reason she quit being a manager and went back to university. You made her realize the idol life isn’t as glamorous as it seems, and you’ve formed a very solid friendship over the past five years. “You know they’re gonna keep you for a few days, right?”

“Yeah. I know. It was impulsive. Like, I’m fine now. I just couldn’t stop thinking.” You sigh.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be on the way. Cold water and pressure until I get there, yeah?” You laugh softly.

“Already on it.” The call disconnects soon after, and you look up at the mirror. Briefly, you imagine Jihoon standing behind you in a much different situation than the one you’re in now.

His thick arms are wrapped around your waist, head leaning against yours. He’s smiling in your vision. You smile softly in your reflection, though it’s strained. The blood on your hands pulls you out of it.

a/n: i wrote this when i was going through it. i’m fine now but i seriously can’t do angst like i used to so i might write a part two or something where they end up back together.