#going to do a short fic on this at some point I think

[kwanisms]

Homecoming — k.hongjoong

After being banished to hell, Hongjoong manages to find a weak point and escapes back to the mortal realm. He only has a short time before the hounds of Hell are sent after him to bring him back and he makes the most of his time by tracking down his former servant only to find Seonghwa’s vampire curse has been broken and that he’s now happily married to the woman who destroyed everything Hongjoong built up. incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT — 14.2k ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, reincarnated reader, mentions of: marriage, food & alcohol consumption, death, pregnancy, wanting to start a family, infidelity (its complicated, mc thinks she's dreaming); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — angst, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, established relationship (Seonghwa & MC), married life; non idol au, demon au ❑ NOTES — THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE LIBRARY OF ILLUSIONS SEQUEL. IF YOU PLAN ON READING THAT SERIES AND DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED, SAVE THIS FIC FOR LAST. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS!!! THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING I WILL GIVE. This takes place after the sequel to the Library of Illusion and as such, you can’t read directly what happens before this as it’s not written yet. If you’d like to read those, you can find the masterlist for the Library of Illusion here. There’s some heavy stuff in this so read with caution. Thank you for anyone reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: there’s a lot of dirty talk without smut so watch out for that, implied oral (f receiving), implied unprotected sex (don’t), voyeurism (Hongjoong), hot tub makeout, implied hot tub sex, vaginal penetration, nipple play (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving), facefucking, deepthroating, piv sex, praise, dirty talk, degrading names (f receiving: slut, whore), mild impact play (spanking), forced cuckold (Seonghwa), somnophilia, slight dacryphilia (Joong likes it when Hwa cries), a lot of dirty talk on Joong’s part, breeding kink, cum inside, forced oral (MC is in a trance and Hongjoong forces her to give Hwa oral while he’s tied up), bondage/rope play (Seonghwa is basically bound and gagged through the whole thing up until the end), mild m × m (Hongjoong touches Seonghwa a couple times). If you don’t like this, don’t read. It’s fantasy and supposed to be a  kind of gray area. Sorry, not sorry. I think I got all the warnings but if I missed any, please let me know!

One thing Hongjoong had never been prepared for was being turned into a demon. It hadn’t been his choice, he’d been betrayed by his neighbors. His only consolation were the centuries he spent luring people to his prison, deep in the forests of the Carpathian Mountains, and collecting their souls. It had all been going well.

Until you came along.

Upon seeing you for the first time, Hongjoong didn’t know you were the reincarnation of his servant’s dead fiancée. He didn’t really care. At least, that was until you started to cause problems. He watched as you slowly uncovered the truth, learning about your past life and about the Library of Illusion, the place Hongjoong called home.

The vampire opened your eyes and when you had regained your memories from your previous life, Hongjoong watched your reunion with a mixture of fascination and irritation. It didn’t matter really, not when you were going to venture further and then he would collect your soul, just as he had done for hundreds of years already.

Only, his sight was obscured soon after you returned to Seonghwa. It was only moments later when he realized you had entered the Restricted Section, so he pushed the occurrence to the back of his mind. In the end, it wasn’t going to matter.

Oh how foolish he had been.

He gave you the same head start he’d given the others. Chased you through the maze and you managed to escape into the halls. He would give you your time, allow you to explore before he would finally descend. He managed to find and intercept you in the hallway, cut off your exit route and was surprised when you gave in so easily.

He didn’t realize you had a plan.

He still remembered the sharp sting of pain from the dagger as it pierced his chest. He remembered the incantation you hissed as you twisted the knife, white hot pain searing throughout his body, the heat spreading from the wound almost as if he’d been poisoned.

And he had. You’d coated the knife in something before driving it into him. You were quick after that, taking off further into the halls. Hongjoong dragged himself up, ignoring the pain and blood that poured out of him as he followed you, stumbling into the walls as he tried to keep up.

The poison you’d infected him with caused him to transform, the visage of his human form melting away to reveal the demon he’d become until almost none of his humanity remained and instead a lumbering, grotesque monster stood in his place.

He finally tracked you down, rounding the corner to find you weren’t alone. The vampire was with you. He had turned on him. He, the vampire, had turned on him, Hongjoong, all because of a woman. Hongjoong underestimated the strength of the love between the two which allowed the vampire to free himself from Hongjoong’s control.

Hongjoong could never have expected that the vampire would go snooping while his attention was occupied with chasing you. The vampire surprised him by reciting the same banishing incantation the priest had used on him all those years ago, pinning Hongjoong in place. Hongjoong never expected the vampire to pull the knife out and shove it back in deeper as he called Hongjoong by his demon name.

The vampire used the combination of the poison, the wound, the incantation, and the name to finish what the priests could not and banished Hongjoong back to hell, something the demon never saw coming. His fall back into hell was much like the first; blackness, fire and brimstone, and burning, but instead of the white light saving him, he broke through rock and fell into the depths of Hell.

He passed through one of the rings, landing hard onto the smooth stone floor of the second. Pain spread throughout his body, the air leaving his lungs and leaving him winded.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of the Panopticon of the Second Ring of Hell. A light blinded him as two figures approached. Hongjoong got to his feet, shielding his eyes from the bright light glaring down on him.

He squinted, looking at the two figures as they stopped at the edge of the light. “Who is that?” he called, his voice echoing around the room. He waited for them to answer, to move, but the figures did neither. Instead they stood at the edge of the light, hidden in the darkness, watching him. He could feel their eyes upon him. It made him extremely uncomfortable.

After a few more minutes of silence, The light finally lessened, instead of a bright intense light, it was a much dimmer golden glow. Hongjoong blinked, his eyes adjusting as he lowered his hand. The figures had multiplied, now standing in a circle around him still in the shadow. The same two figures from the beginning started to advance, stepping into the golden glow and Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

The figures, a man and a woman, walked forward. Dressed in black hooded cloaks, they continued forward, walking the long distance towards him. Hongjoong stood still, watching them as they advanced and took this opportunity to give them both a good once over.

The man was tall with black hair and cat-like, piercing eyes. The woman was shorter than her companion. She had doe-like eyes, silvery blonde hair, and a very youthful look. The pair stopped just before him and in unison, removed their hoods.

Hongjoong stared back and forth between the two as silence fell over the trio.

Finally, it was the woman who spoke first in a soft voice. “Welcome back, Dannarok,” she said with a warm smile. Upon hearing the name, Hongjoong recoiled slightly. The smile on the woman’s face never faltered. The man raised a brow. “Does the sound of your own name repulse you?” he asked, his voice a deeper pitch than Hongjoong’s but not so deep.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“It has been such a long time since he has heard,” the woman answered for him. Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. She was reading his mind. “Such a shame,” the man said, turning his attention back to Hongjoong. “And we gave you that name, too.”

“Why am I here?” Hongjoong asked suddenly, cutting the man off. “You’ve been banished back here,” the woman answered, her golden eyes studying him closely. “You can’t just send me back?” Hongjoong asked. “Back?” the man repeated in a questioning tone. “Back where?”

Hongjoong gestured up. “Top side,” he answered. The man and woman exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. “Send you back topside? To do what, exactly?” the man asked as he looked back at Hongjoong who stared between the man and woman, anger bubbling under his skin. Why the hell were they laughing at him? It was a reasonable request, wasn’t it?

“You had your chance up there,” the man finally said. “You were up there for hundreds of years,” the woman interjected. “Spent hundreds of years doing nothing, I might add,” the man continued. “No souls collected, no women impregnated, no murder, no maiming,” he continued. “Well,” the woman said quickly. “There were those priests,” she reminded him.

“Right, and that expedition party,” he nodded before looking back at Hongjoong. “Not nearly enough death for hundreds of years spent up there.” Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “I killed far more than that. I had thousands upon thousands of victims,” he said incredulously. “Right,” the man said, nodding. “The thousands upon thousands of souls that escaped when you were banished by a vampire and his reincarnated fiancée?”

Hongjoong’s blood began to boil. How dare they speak to him with such contempt. Such… disregard.

“The sheer volume of souls you collected was admirable,” the woman began but the man interrupted her yet again and for a split second, Hongjoong could see the annoyance on her face. “But your failure to bring them here,” the man said, his voice full of derision. “Did you forget the part where I was confined to that shell of a building in the forest in the middle of the fucking mountains?” Hongjoong snapped.

As quickly as the words left his mouth, the man moved, wrapping his fingers around Hongjoong’s throat and lifting him off the ground with ease. Hongjoong struggled against the man’s grip, clawing at his hand, the toes of his shoes scraping against the concrete floor.

“Watch your tone,” the man snarled, the voice of a thousand souls emanating from him as his red irises glowed. The woman stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm gently. “Sam,” she whispered, looking up at him with her golden, doe-like eyes. The man quickly dropped Hongjoong and stepped back, taking a deep breath and grounding himself.

“My apology, Lils,” he said softly, clearing his throat. “Won’t happen again.” The woman smiled at him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before turning to Hongjoong who was massaging his neck, glaring at the man, Sam. “My apologies, Dannarok,” the woman, Lils, said. She offered a kind hand to help him, which Hongjoong took, allowing her to pull him to his feet with surprising strength. 

“The point we are trying to make is that you spent a long time topside,” Lils said softly, keeping a hold of Hongjoong’s hand, holding it up and placing her other hand over the back of his hand. “But there isn’t much to show for it. You’re here but there’s nothing else. All those souls have been released and sent to the afterlife. Some have ended up in the different levels but many of them went… up,” she said, trailing off slightly before raising her gaze towards the ceiling.

“What if I went back and collected more souls?” Hongjoong asked softly. Lils’ eyes met his again and she smiled kindly. “Unfortunately, without anything to show for your first time up there, and with nothing binding you to the Earth, you cannot return. You would have to collect the souls again. The amount you had before but that would require hundreds of years and you don’t have that kind of trust from us.”

Hongjoong felt his stomach slowly start to churn. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m afraid you will have to stay here.” Hongjoong’s stomach sank. “Stay here?” Lils nodded. “But you get a choice,” she explained. “You can either spend eternity in here,” she said, gesturing to the round room.

Hongjoong looked up as more light filled the room, illuminating the various cells set into the stone walls. Cells upon cells lined the walls, extending up and up, thin walkways with iron railings providing access to the upper cells. Each cell had iron bars and all of the cells on the ground level were occupied. Darkness lay within the cells so Hongjoong could not see the contents.

He turned his eyes back to Lils. “Or you can spend eternity outside the Panopticon where the high speed winds will whip you around, stinging your face, and chilling you to the bone. Out there, you will spend eternity in discomfort,” she continued. “In here, you will be comfortable for a time but then you will slowly go mad. It’s your choice.”

Hongjoong stared back at her as she waited for him to choose as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He glanced around at the cells once more before imagining what it was like outside the Panopticon. The winds sounded almost worse but the thought of slowly losing his mind kept him from picking the former. He was stuck at a crossroads.

He glanced around once more, hoping to find a way out, though he couldn’t see one. 

Hongjoong resigned himself to his fate. “Put me in a cell,” he said. Lils gave him an apologetic smile and nodded to a figure Hongjoong hadn’t noticed joined them. He was then led to a set of concrete stairs that looked altogether unstable and ready to collapse at any moment. After climbing up several staircases he was led to a cell, the door opened as they approached, and he reluctantly stepped inside, promising himself he would one day get out.

The first day went by with no indication that a new day had started. Hongjoong lay on the small rickety cot against the wall, staring at the ceiling of his cell as those around him screamed, pounded on the walls, and rattled the bars of their doors. He shut his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds. He imagined he was anywhere else. A vision came to his mind.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a forest. His forest. He looked around at the trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves of the canopy and dancing on the ground as birds and other cheerful forest sounds surrounded him. He turned his head, his gaze finding a sight he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years.

His cabin. It was just as he remembered leaving it all those centuries ago when Yeosang came to get him with a mob of villagers. The night he’d told you to take his box and hide it. The last night he’d been freed before his death. He walked towards the cabin, finding it void of life.

The front door stood ajar. He approached it slowly, reaching out to push the wooden door open. The inside of the cabin was different than he remembered. It was all stone instead of wood. He looked around at the dark stone walls and floor, his eyes picking up a trail of blood. He stopped, following the trail with his eyes until he reached the source.

His stomach churned, eyes widening in horror as he took in the sight of two bodies lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the round room. Lifeless eyes stared back at him from vacant expressions of both Stella and Yeosang and he let out a scream.

Back in the cell, Hongjoong’s eyes snapped open and he was met with the rough stone ceiling of his cell. ‘You’re still there,’ he thought to himself. Over the centuries, Hongjoong hadn’t been able to rid himself of his host’s thoughts. The body he inhabited, the name he went by, the identity he’d stolen. He was not actually Hongjoong. He was Dannarok. Hongjoong was the name of the body he inhabited. The witch who had been sacrificed as a body for him to inhabit.

Hongjoong sat up quickly. He hadn’t come back empty handed after all. He’d brought back a soul. Hongjoong’s soul. He glanced towards the door and contemplated his options. One soul wasn’t enough to free him but surely, it was enough to give him at least a day out? It was worth the risk.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he got up and walked over to the door, peering out into the Panopticon. He looked around, seeing no one. He cleared his throat and called out. “Anyone there?” he asked. There was no response. He tried again, deciding to call out to the woman. She seemed much more open to negotiations than the man.

“Lils?” Hongjoong tried again, a little louder. The manic chanting and screams from the other cells didn’t do much to cover his voice and yet, there was still no response. “Lils!” he tried again, a little louder. “I have a proposition for you!” That seemed to do the trick. A pair of tall, cloaked guards appeared, face obscured by black cloth as they flanked the much smaller Lils who had removed her cloak and underneath wore a simple pastel purple dress.

“A proposition?” she inquired, tilting her head. Her hair fell in loose curls down past her shoulders, two small black bows clipped into her hair. “What sort of proposition?” Hongjoong leaned against the bars, his hands curling around the cool iron. “I didn’t come back empty-handed,” Hongjoong started. “I brought a soul with me.” Lils stared at him before smiling.

“I figured you would like to keep that one,” she explained. “Someone to keep you company.” Hongjoong shook his head. “To be honest, I’d like to be rid of him. He would drive me insane faster than being locked in here.” Lils’ smile fell slightly. “Is that so?” she asked. Hongjoong wasn’t sure what she meant but he nodded. “So how about I hand him over and you give me a day topside? One day. 24 hours.”

Lils looked at him, studying him carefully. “Twenty four hours? You think you deserve such a long time topside for one human soul?” Lils asked, tilting her head. Hongjoong felt his stomach sink. “Is that not how it works?” he asked. Lils sighed. “You have to see this from my perspective,” she said softly. “You’re considered a flight risk. I could give you twenty four hours and you could disappear for years. I can’t risk that. But if you really want to get rid of the soul, I can take it from you.”

Hongjoong took a step back. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not unless I get something in return. Until you can offer me what I want, I’ll keep the soul.” Lils kept her eyes on him as he sank back into the cell and sat back down on the bed. She turned away, the cloaked figures flanking her as she walked away, leaving Hongjoong with a few parting words.

“Call me if you change your mind.”

Hongjoong’s days were filled with the same routine. Sleep, wake up, stare at the ceiling while the winds outside the panopticon raged on, shaking the building fiercely, despite its strong construction. It made him infinitely grateful he chose to spend eternity inside rather than outside. The days blurred together as there was no rise or fall of a sun or moon. No clocks, no calendars, nothing to help show the passage of time. It soon became irrelevant. Three days, three weeks, three years? None of it mattered.

Soon, Hongjoong couldn’t sleep as his dreams were being commandeered by the faint soul inside that tried desperately to regain control. He hadn’t been this weak since he first took over the body of the witch. He was growing weaker and weaker and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep control. As he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he heard a voice, whispering into his ear.

‘Get up.’

Hongjoong sat up quickly, looking around. He saw nothing as he surveyed his surroundings. The cell was empty, save for him. The chamberpot and sink sat undisturbed, there was no window and the only light came through the bars of his door from the dim glow outside. When he was certain he was alone, he started to lay back down but was greeted with the same whisper.

‘I said get up!’

Hongjoong got up, getting off the bed and backed against the wall opposite it, staring at his bed. Was this it? Was he finally starting to lose it? Would he soon be joining his neighbors and fellow inmates in their manic screams and pounding on the walls of his cell, smearing his shit on the walls and shaking the bars of his door?

‘You’re not going crazy,’ the voice said. ‘It’s me. It’s Hongjoong.’

Hongjoong relaxed as the voice spoke to him. He realized it wasn’t a whisper, at least not from an external force. It was coming from inside his mind. “Wh-what do you want?” he asked the witch. ‘I want out of here. I didn’t ask for any of this,’ the voice in his mind said. ‘I’ve sat by and watched you ruin my life, use my body for heinous acts and couldn’t do anything. For hundreds of years, I’ve been a prisoner in my own body but not anymore.’

Hongjoong stood still as he listened. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “It’s not like I can really go anywhere. We’re stuck here.” He glanced around the room. There was truly no way out that he could see. ‘You’re thinking too physically,’ the voice in his mind said, a hint of amusement. ‘There’s no physical exit, that’s true. But has there ever been a physical entrance and exit to Hell?’

Hongjoong was starting to catch on, a smile spreading across his face. “So,” he started, walking back over to the bed and sitting down on the edge.

“What do you need me to do?”

Rain fell, thundering rumbling as you glanced out the rain streaked windows. “I didn’t know it was supposed to storm,” you said softly as Seonghwa came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Perhaps we should have stayed in bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “We can’t sleep in bed all day,” you countered as you watched the rain fall, hitting the standing water on the empty circle drive.

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Seonghwa mumbled into your ear, his breath tickling you as his hands moved down to your hips. “I wasn’t talking about sleeping.” You turned in his hold, your hands smoothing up his chest over the soft linen shirt he wore. “You never want to sleep,” you reminded him. “I’m starting to get sore.”

Seonghwa let out a chuckle as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Can you blame me?” he asked against your lips. “I spent hundreds of years trapped in that forest. Hundreds of years alone,” he continued, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips in between words. “Centuries without you,” he added. He pulled back to look at you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek.

“And the universe deemed me worthy of a second chance with the only person I have ever loved?” he asked, eyes scanning your face as he took in every detail. “I’m going to take advantage of that every minute I can.” You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly as your eyes fluttered shut. “If I could spend the rest of eternity making love to you, I would,” he added softly, making your cheeks flush.

“Kissing and tasting every inch of your body,” he continued, lips ghosting over yours as he leaned in close. “Taking my time, making you feel every inch of me as I drag you deeper into the throes of passion,” he continued, nose gently bumping against yours. “Whispering words of praise and affirmations of my love and devotion to you,” he added. “I’ll settle for spending every day of the rest of our lives doing just that.”

You giggled as he pulled you into another kiss, the sound muffled by his mouth. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, meeting yours in a slow, languide dance. Seonghwa pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you so much, blossom,” he whispered. “Now and forever.”

You were about to respond when a loud beeping sounded, ringing out from the kitchen. You pulled back to look at him. “That’s lunch,” you said smiling up at him, reluctantly pulling from his grasp but not before stealing another kiss.

Seonghwa followed you to the kitchen as you grabbed an oven mitt and opened the oven, grabbing the dish inside and pulling it out and setting it on top of the range, closing the oven door and turning it off. Seonghwa leaned against the kitchen island, watching you work. “You know,” he started.

“We could have had the staff do this,” he reminded you as you started to cut up the contents of the baking dish, a lasagna. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. “Do you not trust my cooking?” you asked, the tone of your voice playful. Seonghwa let out a laugh and stood up straight, crossing the small space between you as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“It’s not that, my love,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “I just would have rather let the staff do this and I could have gotten more time in bed with you.” Shaking your head, you laughed as you finished dividing the lasagna up. “Is the table set?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “Yes, dear,” he said, stealing a kiss. “Go sit down,” you instructed.

“You’re not serving me,” he protested but you pouted at him. “Please let me play your dutiful and doting wife for one day,” you pleaded, making him laugh as he finally let go of you. “Fine,” he said as he started towards the archway that led into the dining room. “But only because you asked me oh so nicely,” he added, pointing at you before disappearing. You grabbed the dish with the pot holders and carried it from the kitchen into the dining room.

When you moved into Seonghwa’s ancestral mansion, you’d never been accustomed to such luxury. His family owned a gorgeous mansion deep in the mountainous countryside of Korea. It was a grand home with 3 floors and a sprawling basement. It boasted a total of eleven bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, a movie theater, six car garage, an extensive private library, multiple parlors, drawing rooms, and even a ballroom. 

The grounds were extensive, with multiple private gardens, a lake that was kept well stocked, forests for hunting, a guest house with five bedrooms, horse stables, outdoor tennis court and basketball court. You weren’t ashamed to admit you’d gotten lost on a number of occasions. When you moved in, Seonghwa had offered for you to have your own room separate from his and while you did in the beginning, it was lonely sleeping in such a large bed all by yourself and you gravitated to his suite which you eventually moved into.

It wasn’t long afterwards that you got married. Seonghwa had proposed almost the moment you stepped foot into the house when he sent for you a few years ago while you were visiting the country. You accepted of course, not wanting to be parted from him for another second. After a year-long engagement, your wedding was held at the house, Seonghwa invited his surviving family. It was a small, intimate affair and afterwards, you went on a month-long honeymoon, traveling and visiting various places. 

Seonghwa wasted no time in taking you to bed after you were married. He had a voracious sexual appetite and proved to be a very skilled and adept lover. Your bedroom activities had yet to bear any fruit but you both weren’t in any rush to have children. You wanted it to happen naturally, if it happened at all. 

You set the lasagna down on the table as Seonghwa watched you from his seat. “Salad?” you asked, picking up the bowl. He said nothing, merely nodding as he watched you with a smile. You filled his plate with salad before serving yourself. You then set the bowl down and grabbed his plate to place a slice of lasagna on it and set it back down to serve your own food.

“Alright,” Seonghwa said as you set the serving spoon down. “Food’s been served, now sit down please.” You rolled your eyes but obliged, sitting in the chair adjacent to his at the head of the table. “At least I’m sitting here,” you said as you picked up your fork. “And not down there.” Seonghwa followed your gaze to the opposite end of the table and immediately took your free hand. “I would absolutely despise it if you sat that far away from me,” he said softly, gently massaging your hand.

You nodded towards his plate. “Eat,” you urged. “Before it gets cold.” Seonghwa’s eyes never left your face. “And what if I want to eat something else?” You looked up to meet his dark gaze. “Eat your lunch and you can have your dessert early,” you offered. He perked up. “My dessert?” he inquired. “What’s for dessert?” You met his gaze, fighting the urge to smile. “Me.”

Seonghwa didn’t complain or speak again until his plate was clear. You’d never seen some wolf down their food so fast. Once lunch had been eaten and the leftovers put away, you started to clean up, much to Seonghwa’s annoyance. Still, as a dutiful husband, he helped you wash the dishes, wiping and putting them away as you handed them to him.

Once you were done, and the sink was rinsed down, Seonghwa pounced, hands guiding you until your back met the cool marble of the counters. He lifted you onto the edge, lips kissing down the side of your neck as he laid you back. His lips continued down, kissing over the material of your sundress until he lifted the skirt and pulled your panties from you.

“Hwa,” you whined as he kissed down the inside of your thigh closer and closer to your aching heat. “You couldn’t have waited until we got back to the bedroom?” you asked, back arching as his breath fanned over your sex. “You said I could have my dessert if I finished my lunch,” he whispered, licking his lips as he drew level with your core.

“And I never eat in bed.”

Hongjoong wasn’t sure how he got out of his cell but the feeling of the cold rain hitting his skin was a shock, his eyes snapping open to find himself staring up at the gray skies. He sat up, looking around. He was lying in the middle of a paved road, pine forests surrounding him. He got to his feet, scrambling up as he looked around and ran to the side of the road and stumbling into the trees to regain his composure and get a sense of his surroundings.

He leaned against a tree, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. He reached up, running his fingers through the soaked strands and pushing them back from his face. He was in the mortal world once more. He’d managed to find a weak point and was now topside. It was only a matter of time before the powers that be discovered his escape and would come for him.

‘You tricked me,’ a voice hissed. Hongjoong looked down at his hands and smiled to himself. He was back in control of the witch’s body. ‘You said you’d free me!’ Hongjoong sighed, shaking his head. “And I will,” he responded. “This body is mine,” he said. “Once I’ve had my revenge, I’ll let you go.”

‘Revenge? What revenge?’

Hongjoong stood up and stepped back onto the road, looking to his left and then his right. Both directions, the road stretched and curved out of sight. He turned back to the left and started walking, a destination in his mind. He’d picked this place because he knew what he’d find close by.

He continued to walk, enjoying the feeling of the rain on his skin, the clothes he wore now soaked and clinging to his skin. He hadn’t seen a single soul, not a car or any other sign of life. He followed the winding road until he reached a large iron gate. A ten foot tall stone wall separated him from his destination but that wouldn’t deter him.

There was a placard in the iron bars of the gate, an emblem of sorts. The letters P and E engraved into the iron. Hongjoong walked up to the gate and grabbed the bars. He tried to push and pull but the gate didn’t budge. Sighing, he glanced up at the top of the stone wall. He’d have to find some other way in.

Stepping off the road, he followed the stone wall through the woods, sliding down a hill from the road and continued to walk, hoping to find either a break in the wall or a shorter section. As he walked, leaves and twigs snapping and crunching underfoot, he contemplated what he was about to do. He was full of rage and contempt for the inhabitants of this estate. Why should they get their happy ending while he was doomed to spend eternity in a cell?

Luck was on his side when he found a section of the wall where the stone bulged out a little more creating small places where he could grab and climb. Hongjoong easily scaled the wall, climbing over the top and dropping back down on the other side. He walked forward, following a pull he couldn’t explain. His walk didn’t take long as a large sprawling mansion appeared through the trees.

He stopped at the edge of the forest, looking up at the imposing manor and scoffed. “Of course he comes from money,” he murmured to himself. Keeping to the shadow of the forest, Hongjoong made his way to the house, keeping his eyes and ears open. He reached the side of the house and carefully walked around towards the back, glancing up to find a balcony. “Bingo.”

He carefully started to climb a tree next to the house, peering through the windows into empty rooms until he reached the top floor and peered into the room. It was a massive bedroom. A large four poster bed stood against the wall opposite the window, burgundy bed linens decorate the bed along with the curtains for the four posters. Hongjoong leaned in closer, squinting as he tried to see past the rain streaked glass panes.

There was movement in the bed, the sheets moving. He glanced over to the balcony and made a decision. He carefully stood up on the branch and stepped lightly until he was close enough to jump to the balcony, landing on the stone railing. He quietly jumped down and crouched, making his way over to the french doors. He ducked under a window beside the doors and carefully peered over the window sill. 

From this position, he could see a little better. He felt heat rise in him as he recognized the vampire. The one he’d made his servant for centuries. ‘Seonghwa,’ the witch’s voice said. ‘His name is Seonghwa and you ruined his life.’ Hongjoong ignored the voice as he watched the scene inside the room. It was very clear what he was seeing. The vampire, Seonghwa, in the midst of intimacy with…

Hongjoong’s blood boiled as he recognized your face. The woman who had destroyed everything he built. The reason he was banished to begin with, all his hard work decimated. Hongjoong watched as you sat up, taking control and pushing Seonghwa onto his back. He watched the way your hips moved and he could vaguely remember how it felt when you were on top of him, hand on his neck as you rode him before you stabbed him.

Hongjoong watched as your movements sped up, hips moving faster, Seonghwa’s hands moving to your hips as he moved with you. Hongjoong’s rage only grew as pleasure overtook the both of you and you no doubt came together. He watched as you leaned down, kissing your lover before he finally tore his gaze away from the scene.

His luck couldn’t have gotten better. Here you both were. He could enact his revenge all at once.

He peered into the room once more, finding you both had started to move. He would have to hide until night before he could put his plan into motion. He stayed crouched as he moved towards the edge of the balcony and climbed over, dropping to the ground and making his way into the forest to lie in wait.

You watched as Seonghwa dressed in silence from the safety of the bathtub. He turned to find you watching him. “What?” he asked softly. You shook your head, instead letting your eyes rake over his form. “I was hoping you’d join me,” you said as you sank further into the bubbles. Seonghwa smiled as he adjusted his collar and walked over, taking a seat on the step of the tub.

“As much as I’d love that,” he murmured. “I do need to attend to some business.” He leaned over to meet you in a kiss. “Just a couple online meetings,” he said reassuringly. “And then I am yours for the rest of the day and night. Maybe we’ll take a dip in the hot tub,” he suggested, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Or just come back to the room and I’ll focus on putting a baby inside you.”

You felt your stomach flutter at his words. You’d been married for two years now and you had both talked extensively about wanting to start a family. You’d both just been enjoying married life and waiting for nature to take its course but apparently Seonghwa was growing impatient. “Put a baby in me?” you asked softly, leaning back against the backrest. Seonghwa nodded, eyes following you.

“I won’t stop until I know you’re carrying my baby,” he answered. “If I have to fuck you for a week straight, I will,” he added. You were about to respond when he reached down, grabbing you gently by the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. “Hold that thought,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He pressed another soft kiss to your lips. “I love you, my petal.”

“Love you,” you responded as he got up and backed away from the tub through the double doors into the bedroom and slowly shut the doors until you were left alone in the room.

You let out a sigh and rested against the plush backrest, soaking in the warmth of the soapy water. Your eyes slid shut as you basked, enjoying the quiet while you were able to. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you sat up quickly, water splashing softly as you did. You glanced around the room, taking in the soft tones of the walls and cabinets.

You groaned as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. The water was lukewarm and most of the bubbles had disappeared and the water was instead a murky white from the combination of soaps and bath salts you added. Pulling the plug, you got out of the bath, letting the water drain as you turned on the shower and stepped in to rinse off quickly before heading to the closet and picking out something to wear.

You opted for a fitted dress with a pastel marbled look. It had ruching and off the shoulder sleeves. The hem fell to the middle of your shin and hugged your body. You chose not to wear underwear under it in case your husband got any ideas and that was one less barrier between you.

You slipped on a pair of simple white flats and walked out of the closet, heading out of the master suite and started to wander the halls. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since Seonghwa left you in the tub but you would wait for him to find you when his meetings were done.

You made your way through the house, the thunder still rumbling in the distance as the rain continued to come down. It was a dreary day so you would definitely not be venturing outside today. You crossed the large entrance hall, your footsteps echoing off the stone floor.

Picking a random hall, you followed it until you picked one of the various doors and turned the knob, pushing it open and peering inside. Even after three years in this house, you hadn’t seen everything it had to offer.

The room you picked seemed to be a parlor of sorts. There was a gorgeous dark blue furniture set decorated the room. A loveseat and two arm chairs. The dark blue cushions were contrasted by the white oak wood and gold accents stood in the middle of the room. Under the window was a small cabinet made from the same white oak with glass doors revealing the contents inside. 

Various knickknacks sat on the shelves, hiding behind the glass and staying pristine. Two end tables that matched stood on either side of the loveseat with ornate lamps sitting on them. Behind the couch was a larger cabinet, various glasses sat on a tray upside down to prevent dust from settling inside. The doors of the cabinet were solid white oak with gold hardware and as you approached, you opened one of the doors to find various bottles of alcohol inside ranging from brandy and cognac to vodka and soju.

Shutting the door, you turned to face the wall behind you where another cabinet stood, glass doors revealing more knickknacks and books. On top of the cabinet was a collection of frames with various portraits. You walked closer, inspecting them one by one until you found one that caught your eye. It was a double frame connected by a hinge with two photos sitting behind the frames.

Picking it up, you stared in awe at the sight of a picture of Seonghwa, much like the one you’d found in the forest all those years ago when you visited the Library and escaped. You still had that photo, tucked away for safekeeping but here it was, a larger version of it. In the other frame was a picture of a woman who looked remarkably like you. “Blossom,” you whispered as you stared at the photo.

It was uncanny how much you looked alike and yet there were subtle differences in the hair, the eyes, the lips, and a few other places. You were so preoccupied by inspecting the photos that you didn’t hear the door open. “There you are,” a voice said, drawing you back to reality and you jumped, nearly dropping the photo frame. Seonghwa stood in the doorway, hand on the knob as he looked at you.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked softly, pushing the door open and joining you. Nodding, you glanced down at the frame in your hands. Seonghwa gently took the frame from you and placed it back on the cabinet before taking your hand. “Come,” he urged gently. “I have something to show you.”

You weren’t sure how long you had been in that room, staring at the photo as your thoughts consumed you but the sky had started to darken as the sun set and night settled in. Seonghwa led you through the house, past the kitchen and dining room and into the pool room. It was a sort of four seasons room but it had the pool and hot tub built in. During the warmer months, the large windows opened up but in the winter, they closed, allowing you to enjoy the pool and hot tub year round.

Seonghwa stopped once he pulled you into the room. He’d set various candles around the room, ranging from small tea lights to large candles. All of them were lit and there was a small path of rose petals leading towards the hot tub. “I figure we could order in,” he suggested. “You cooked lunch, which was lovely, but the whole point of this day is for me to pamper you.” 

A laugh escaped your lips. “That’s not the point of the day,” you reminded him. “It’s a celebration of our love.” Seonghwa nodded. “And the way I show you how I love you is by not letting you do anything while I have everything done for us,” he explained. You laughed again as you allowed him to pull you closer.

“And I show my love by making you food and being your loving wife,” you countered. “Besides, the steaks have been marinating all day.” Seonghwa sighed in defeat. “Fine,” he conceded. “But after dinner, we can take a dip?” he asked, his voice full of hope. You nodded as you kissed his cheek. “But put the candles out for now. Don’t want anything to catch fire while I cook and we eat.”

You turned and left while he did that and you got started on dinner.

Since it was still raining and you really didn’t want to go outside, even if it grill was covered, you made dinner inside. Seonghwa stood on standby to help where needed and to give you encouraging kisses until you finally kicked him out, telling him to go relax. He instead sat at the island and observed you, his eyes following your every move.

He kept you company while you sliced potatoes for the au gratin potatoes, watching you carefully. You managed to finish without incident and place the dish in the oven while you got started on making a dessert. Seonghwa watched you through it all, fascinated by the way you worked so diligently. “I really am the luckiest man in the world,” he said, chin resting in his hands as you finished the no bake cheesecake and placed it in the fridge to set.

“I’m the lucky one,” you retorted as you turned on the range, ready to start cooking the steaks. Seonghwa watched from his perch as you seared the steaks, cooking them to the level of doneness that you knew he liked. “Smells good,” he commented as you took a break from the steaks to get the potatoes from the oven, setting them on the island to cool for a bit.

Seonghwa got up, walking around to look at them more closely before walking over to kiss your cheek. He disappeared as you returned your focus to the steaks. Once you were sure they were done, you pulled them from the skillet and set them on a cutting board to rest while you made a sauce.

Seonghwa returned a little while later carrying the plates you’d set out for the two of you. “What are you doing?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder as he set the plates and placemats down at the kitchen island. “There’s no reason for us to sit at that massive dining table,” he explained. “We’ll just eat in here.”

You shook your head as you turned off the range. Seonghwa joined you as you plated his steak, drizzling the sauce over it and served a scoop of the potatoes while he plated some of the salad you had prepared earlier. You finished your plate and joined him at the kitchen island while he poured two glasses of wine.

The food was some of the best you’d cooked and Seonghwa couldn’t stop expressing his compliments. When you finished, he helped you clean up once more and while you were checking the dessert, Seonghwa came up behind you. “I like this dress,” he murmured, his hands moving to your hips, smoothing over the fabric.

“When did you get it?” he asked as you stood up and shut the fridge door to face him. “A few weeks ago,” you answered. “I was supposed to wear it to that charity event but I got sick.” Seonghwa nodded. “I remember that,” he said as he pulled you against him. “You insisted I go to the event without you,” he said, cupping your cheek. “And you should have,” you reminded him.

“How could I go and leave my beautiful, ailing wife alone at home?” he asked, swaying softly. “I couldn’t do that to you,” he added. “I would have spent the whole night worrying about you. I would much rather be by your side.” You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. “Which I appreciate but it’s not like I was dying. I had the stomach flu,” you reminded him.

Seonghwa chuckled against your lips as you kissed him again. “So,” he said, changing the trajectory of the conversation. “What are you wearing under this,” he asked, running his hands up your sides and towards your back to pull you taut against him. “Under this?” you asked, gesturing at your dress. He nodded as you leaned in, lips close to his ear. “Absolutely nothing.”

The speed at which he dragged you from the kitchen to the pool room was astonishing, quickly stripping you of your dress and guiding you into the hot tub. The rose petals that had been floating on the surface of the water were now being swirled around by the bubbles as the jets turned on.

“You really didn’t need to do all this,” you said as Seonghwa walked around, lighting the candles once more before starting to strip himself and join you in the tub, grabbing your hand under the water and pulling you closer. “I know,” he murmured as he sat on one of the seats, pulling you onto his lap.

“I wanted to.” His lips enveloped yours as his arms wrapped around you. You rested your forearms on his shoulders, fingers combing through his hair as you both got caught up in a steamy exchange of tongues and breathy moans. “I said I wasn’t going to stop until you’re pregnant,” he reminded you, lips ghosting over your skin as he guided you over his lap, aligning the tip of his cock with your slit and slowly pushing you down onto him.

You let out a gasp as your walls sucked him in, ignoring the dull ache as his cock filled you. “F-fuck, baby,” you groaned as he bottomed out with a shaky breath. “Happy anniversary, blossom,” he whispered in your ear.

Night had fallen by the time Hongjoong returned to the mansion, exiting the forest under the cover of darkness. He’d watched from the trees as you and Seonghwa enjoyed a moment of intimacy in what you presumed was the privacy of your pool room and yet he was there in the trees watching, taking notes, and waiting.

He climbed the tree from before, making his way onto the balcony and crept over to the window to peer in. It was dark in the room and he could just barely make out yours and Seonghwa’s sleeping forms, tangled in the sheets. He crept over to the door and grabbed the knob, turning it slowly until it clicked softly and he was able to open the door and sneak inside and out of the rain.

With the door shut behind him, he stayed low, crossing the room to the bathroom and quietly shut the door. Once inside, he felt he could stand and so he did, removing his shoes and socks and slowly stripping himself of his wet clothes and walked into the closet which the automatic light turned on. He browsed through Seonghwa’s clothes, picking out a few items and dressing in silence. 

He made his way back out, the light shutting off behind him. He quietly opened the door, peering out into the room where you were sleeping, the sheets pulled up to your waist. You slept peacefully as he approached, chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

Hongjoong slowly lowered himself to his knees beside you and reached out, gently caressing your cheek. He leaned in, close to your ear. “Follow the sound of my voice,” he whispered. “Find me.”

He carefully got up, walking around the bed, keeping his eyes on your form, only glancing at Seonghwa as he neared the door. He carefully opened it, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door until it was open only a sliver. He walked down the hall, the steps of his bare feet muffled against the wooden floor. He opened doors as he walked past, peering inside to find unused bedrooms.

He kept going until he found a set of stairs and descended them, finding more rooms to inspect. He found one to his liking and entered it, exploring as he waited for you to awaken from your slumber and find him. He left the room and made his way downstairs, entering a parlor of sorts. He examined the room as he made his way to the fireplace and with a click of his fingers, a fire started. He rounded the couch, opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass bottle to pour himself a glass of amber liquid.

He placed the stopper back on the decanter and grabbed the glass, taking a sip before he walked back around and sat down on the couch to wait for you to join him.

You were pulled from your slumber by a gentle caressing against your cheek. Though you were awake, you couldn’t open your eyes. A soft voice spoke to you, piercing the silence. “Follow the sound of my voice,” it whispered. “Find me.”

You awoke with a start as thunder crashed overhead, shaking the house. You glanced next to you, finding your husband fast asleep next to you. As you were about to sink back down into the bed, your eyes caught sight of a trail of wet footprints on the floor leading from the doors to the balcony to the bathroom. You pulled the sheets back, careful not to wake your husband until you were absolutely certain it was necessary. You slipped on your slippers, grabbing your robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on over your naked form.

Once at the bathroom door, you peered into the dark room, finding a dark blob on the tile floor. Approaching it cautiously, you knelt down and touched it. It was wet. You grabbed it and discovered it was a wet jacket. You found more wet clothes lying on the floor leading to the closet.

Standing up, you walked over, stepping into the closet where the light turned on. Save for the clothes, your closet was empty. You exited the room, the light shutting off as you headed back into the bedroom. You walked over to the double doors and checked the knob. It was locked. ‘How the hell did someone get in?’ you wondered as you turned and your eyes darted towards the bedroom door which was open a crack. You were certain Seonghwa had closed that before you went to bed.

You approached it cautiously, glancing at your sleeping husband. You contemplated waking him but you were a strong woman and capable of holding her own. You opened the door and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door behind you.

Your feet carried you down the hall, steps soft as you passed open doors and peered into the rooms beyond, finding them all empty. You went down the stairs to the next floor and followed the path of open doors until you reached the main floor. 

As you reached the bottom landing, you heard soft music drifting through the house. You walked through the foyer, jumping slightly when lightning flashed through the windows and thunder rumbled the house. The rain had picked up and was now pouring. Your feet carried you closer and closer to the source of the music, following the same path you had earlier after your bath.

The door to the parlor was left ajar and you pushed it open further, peering into the room. Your eyes landed on a figure standing by the fireplace. He wore Seonghwa’s clothes but it was not your husband. He had caramel colored hair that was longer in the back, metal rings and studs decorated his ear, reflecting the dancing light of a fire that crackled in the fireplace. His face was obscured to you, turned towards the fire, one of the crystal glasses from the liquor cabinet in his hand, its contents an amber liquid that glowed in the firelight.

You entered the room slowly, keeping your eyes on the figure. Once you were inside, the figure’s head turned and your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping you. The hair was different but here was no mistaking that face. Those piercing eyes. The door behind you shut on its own and you backed against it in fear, staring as the figure stalked around the couch slowly, making their way towards you.

“It can’t be,” you whispered. “You can’t be here.”

The figure approached, downing the rest of the liquid in the glass, setting it on a table before he approached you. “Yet, here I am, darling,” he answered, his voice just the same as you remembered.

It had been nearly four years since you’d seen him last but there was no mistaking it.

Hongjoong had returned.

“We b-banished you,” you protested weakly as he neared you, placing his hands on either side of your head against the door, caging you in. “You’re supposed to be in hell,” you added as he stared down at you. “Am I?” he asked softly. “And what if this is a dream?” he asked softly. 

One of his hands moved, taking note of the way you flinched. When he touched you, it was soft and gentle. He brushed his thumb over your exposed collar, swiping upwards and catching the collar of your robe, pulling it down past your shoulder. His eyes fell on the bite mark in your skin, a scar from Seonghwa when he was still a vampire.

“Is it a dream?” you asked softly. Hongjoong raised his eyes to meet your gaze. “Do you want it to be?” he asked, tilting his head as his hand moved, fingers skimming over the mark to your neck. You felt his fingertips curl around the back of your neck. “Do you want to dream about me?” he whispered, leaning in closer as he pressed himself against you, pressing you against the wooden door.

You turned your head away as he leaned in closer. His lips ghosted over your cheek. “If I’m supposed to be in hell, then there’s no way I can be here, right?” he asked into your ear, hand smoothing down your neck, over the silk of your robe.

“So it has to be a dream, right?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slid down over your chest, cupping your breast through the silk, feeling your naked body underneath. Your body reacted to his touch more than it should have, further confirming this was indeed a dream but if that was the case, why were you dreaming about Hongjoong of all people? Especially after four years.

“Do you want to wake up?” he asked in your ear as he parted your legs with his knee, pressing his thigh between yours. You could feel yourself growing wetting and wetter as he massaged your breast, lips skimming over your skin. “You could wake up, forget this ever happened and go back to sleep and the dream would be over,” he said softly, tongue slipping out.

You let out a soft groan as he licked up the side of your neck. “Or you can just enjoy the moment and give yourself to me. It’s only a dream,” he said with a hint of amusement. “What’s the worst that could happen?” You melted under his touch as his hand moved to your neck. “So what will it be?” he asked, lips ghosting over yours. “Wake up or enjoy it?”

“P-please,” you whimpered. “Do you want to wake up?” Hongjoong asked, fingers squeezing your throat gently. You shook your head, letting out a whimper as his eyes darkened. “Say it,” he urged. “Out loud.” You licked your lips, clearing your throat before speaking. “I-I don’t want to wake up yet.”

Hongjoong let out a sigh before taking your lips in a searing kiss, tongue immediately forcing inside your mouth. You gasped against his lips as his hands moved down to your thighs. He pulled back only slightly and quickly picked you up, pressing your back against the door as he kissed down your neck.

Without a word, he carried you over to the couch and sat down, setting you on his lap. He immediately pulled you back into a kiss one hand around your throat as the other worked to undo the knot of your robe. Once undone, Hongjoong pushed the material aside, exposing your skin to him.

He left a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collar, leaning you back as his lips traveled down between the valley of your breasts. He took one of your pert nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around it as he teased with light flicks and soft suckles.

Your head fell back, a moan leaving your lips as his hand moved to cup your other breast, gently massaging and kneading the soft flesh. He held you in place with one hand on your back. He let your nipple fall from his mouth, kissing back up to the junction of your neck and shoulder, nipping at the skin.

He carefully laid you down on the couch, ripping the robe from your body and tossing it aside as he hovered over you. Your thighs parted, allowing him to settle between them, putting his weight on you. “This feels so wrong,” you murmured as he kissed your skin, moving down your chest and stomach, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

“It’s just a dream,” he reminded you. “You can’t control what you dream about.”

Your legs spread as he drew level with your cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You moaned out, hands moving to his hair as his tongue made contact with your throbbing clit, lewd wet sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked, the cool steel ball of his piercing making your toes curl.

You writhed under him as he flicked his tongue against your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your arousal coated his lips as he ate you out like a man dying of starvation. Your thighs tried to close around his head but he refused, holding them open as he flattened his tongue against you. A cry escaped your lips as you came on his tongue.

Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he kissed back up your body, meeting your lips in a messy, rushed kiss. “On your knees, kitten,” he breathed out as he sat down on the couch, taking your hand and pulling you up into a sitting position. He undid his pants, pushing them down his hips and thighs and freeing his cock. You knelt beside him on the couch, waiting for his permission to touch him.

He pulled the shirt up and gestured for you to get started. You immediately took his cock in your hands, making him hiss. Leaning over, you let a drop of spit fall from your mouth, spreading it with your hand as you worked it up and down his shaft. Hongjoong reached up, grabbing the back of your neck. You looked up, meeting his gaze.

Without being prompted, you leaned over, taking the head of his cock in your mouth. Hongjoong’s head fell back against the couch, a groan leaving his lips as your head sank down on him. He kept his hand on the back of your neck, caressing gently as you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck that’s it,” he groaned. “Just like that, kitten.” You pulled back, sucking as you did before relaxing your jaw and starting to bob your head, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time, making a lewd wet gagging sound. Hongjoong’s hand moved up to the back of your head and pushed your head down gently, making you take more and more of him. 

“Relax,” he whispered when his cock hit the back of your throat. “Just relax and let me in.”

You did as he asked, relaxing your throat and choking when you felt his cock slip into your throat. He allowed you to pull back but then pushed you back down. He guided your head, his hips starting to chase the feeling, thrusting into your mouth. “That’s it,” he growled. “Relax that jaw and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

Wet gags bounced off the walls as he thrust up into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. Drool spilled from your lips and down his shaft but he didn’t care as he continued to thrust into your mouth harder and harder, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, making you gag and choke.

He forced your head down, holding it there as he tried to hold back his orgasm. After a few moments of you gagging against him, he finally released you, letting you sit up, gasping for air as he removed the rest of his clothes. “Come here,” he said softly, taking your hand and guiding you to sit over him. He pushed your hips down, reaching between your bodies to guide the tip of his cock towards your entrance.

You sat down, sinking on his cock with a moan as he stretched your walls. Each inch felt like it took forever and when he was finally full inside you, your body was shaking. “Good girl,” Hongjoong murmured as he grabbed your hips, guiding your movements. You let out another moan as you lifted, his cock sliding out of you before sinking back down, setting a steady pace, bouncing on him at your own speed.

Hongjoong’s hands were everywhere, your hips, your chest, your ass, your neck. He couldn’t stop touching you. “Come on,” he urged, grabbing your ass. “I know you can go faster than that.” You moved faster, bouncing harder on his cock, your fingers digging into the couch cushion behind him. “That’s it,” Hongjoong groaned, his cock throbbing inside you. 

“M’close,” you gasped over the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “Good,” Hongjoong growled, giving your ass a sharp smack. “Keep going until you’ve cum all over this cock like the filthy fucking slut I know you are,” he growled, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out. “Come on, you dirty fucking whore. Cum for me. Cum on my cock while your husband sleeps upstairs.”

Seonghwa woke with a start, rain pounding against the roof and windows. ‘Just the storm,’ he told himself as he settled back against the bed. Instinctively, he reached for you but found your side of the bed empty. He raised his head and looked around. He expected to see light seeping from under the bathroom door but the door was open and it was dark.

He turned to look at the clock on his bedside table where the red digital numbers informed him it was well past three in the morning. Seonghwa sat up and pulled back the covers, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Now that he was up, he could see wet footprints on the wooden floor. He followed them back to the source and got up to inspect.

The bathroom was empty save for some wet clothes that he knew didn’t belong to him or you. There was an intruder in the house. He walked back to the door as lightning flashed, throwing the room into brightness before shadow overtook it again. Opening the cracked door, he peered out into the hallway. He walked down the corridor, inspecting the doors that had been left open but found no trace of you or an intruder in each one, shutting them as he went.

On the second floor, he found the same thing, more open doors yet still no trace of you or the intruder.

On the main floor, he inspected the kitchen and dining room but nothing seemed out of place. As he passed through the kitchen, he stopped at the counter, grabbing a knife from the knife block and continued on. As he entered one of the front halls, light spilled out of a room onto the floor. 

He approached slowly, his grip on the knife tightening. He pushed the door open and found the room empty. There was a used crystal glass and a fire dancing in the fireplace. He looked around and found no one but as he rounded the couch, he found your silk robe lying on the floor. He picked it up and looked around once more.

There was a giggle behind him and the parlor door slammed shut. He set your robe down on the back of the couch and walked to the door, grabbing the knob and twisting it but the door didn’t budge. He tried again, tugging at the knob roughly but it still didn’t give. He hit the butt of the knife against the wood. “Open the door!” he yelled. “Let me out!”

He tried several more times to wrench the door open to no avail before he let go and stepped back, looking around the room. He headed over to the window and peered out into the rain where he saw a dark figure standing in front of the  house in the middle of the circle drive. He squinted, trying to make out if it was you or not. Lightning flashed and lit up the area momentarily.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as the figure he saw shifted for a split second from a human into a hulking monstrous half man, half goat-like form. He nearly fell back but as soon as it happened, the figure was gone. He glanced around the yard but saw nothing else. He heard the door click and spun around to find the door cracked open.

He rushed over and yanked the door open, looking into the hall before he exited the room, following the hallway back to the entrance hall. He heard footsteps running on the balcony above and he darted for the stairs, running up. As he reached the second floor landing, he heard footsteps racing up the steps to the third floor. 

He followed them, reaching the landing at the end of the hall opposite his and your shared bedroom. The door which he had left open was now shut. He approached slowly, keeping an eye out for any movement. As he reached the door, he took a deep breath and grabbed the knob, his grip on the knife handle in his hand tightening as he turned the knob.

The latch clicked and he carefully pushed the door open, the soft squeak breaking the silence. Seonghwa peered into the room, finding it empty, save for your figure on the bed. Seonghwa entered the room and shut the door quickly, locking it. He swept the whole room, from top to bottom, even checking the bathroom and closet but found no sign of an intruder.

As he exited the bathroom and moved around to his side of the bed, he sat down, setting the knife on his bedside table. He would remind himself to return it to the kitchen in the morning before you woke. He turned to look at you, peacefully asleep. As he was about to pull his feet up into the bed, there was a creak in the floor. Seonghwa felt his heart skip a beat. It came from directly under the bed.

Frozen in terror, Seonghwa was unable to move. He glanced at you, contemplating waking you up. As he moved his hand over the sheets to try and gently rouse you, he felt a strong pair of hands close around his ankles and tug, knocking him from the bed.

He let out a scream as he tried to free himself, kicking and trying to grab anything as whatever it was under the bed tried to drag him under. Seonghwa kicked himself free and scrambled away from the bed, crawling to the wall and sat gasping with his back against the wall. He could now see under the bed but there was nothing there. Lightning flashed again, the light gleaming off the blade of the kitchen knife.

Seonghwa glanced around before deciding to go for it. As he tried to get up, a figure appeared, rushing him and slamming him against the wall, a hand closing around his throat. Seonghwa cried out in pain and looked down at the figure, a wave of fear passing over him as he looked into the familiar face of the demon who had made his life a living hell centuries ago.

“It’s not possible!” Seonghwa choked out, struggling to free himself. “You’re supposed to be in hell!” Hongjoong smirked up at him, fingers tightening around Seonghwa’s throat. “Surprise,” he said in a dangerously low voice. “I’m back!”

Seonghwa kicked out, trying to free himself. Hongjoong tossed him aside easily and Seonghwa slid across the floor, his back hitting the foot of the bed. Hongjoong calmly followed as Seonghwa tried to crawl away but the demon was quicker, stepping over him and kneeling down, grabbing Seonghwa by the hair. Seonghwa let out a strangled cry as Hongjoong held the knife to his throat. 

“I could kill you right here,” Hongjoong threatened. “It would be so easy. Kill you, steal your wife, turn her into my breeding bitch, and then eventually kill her,” he continued. “But I’m not going to do that.” Hongjoong threw the knife, the blade embedding into the wall by the door. He stood up, keeping a firm grip on Seonghwa’s hair and dragged him across the floor to a chair in the corner near the balcony doors. Hongjoong pulled him up, forcing him into the chair.

Seonghwa tried to get up but Hongjoong pushed him back down, grabbing one of the nearby curtains and ripped it down from the rod. He placed a foot on Seonghwa’s chest and kept him seated while he ripped the curtain into long pieces. One by one, he tied Seonghwa’s wrists and ankles to the chair. He ripped another piece from the curtain, tearing that in half. Part of it he wadded up and shoved into Seonghwa’s mouth before wrapping the other piece around his head, covering his mouth and tying it.

“There,” Hongjoong said as he stood back and admired his handiwork. “Now you’ll sit there and shut up.” Seonghwa tried to break free of his bonds but was unable to do so. Hongjoong turned, running his fingers through his hair. He approached the bed where you lay sleeping. Seonghwa screamed against his gag, thrashing violently. Hongjoong looked at him from beside you.

“Calm down or I’ll slit her throat right now,” Hongjoong ordered. Seonghwa stopped, falling silent. He watched as Hongjoong pulled back the sheets covering you, exposing your naked body. Seonghwa blinked away the tears that formed in his eyes. “Such a lucky man,” Hongjoong said, mocking Seonghwa’s earlier sentiments.

Seonghwa turned his head as Hongjoong stripped himself and climbed onto the bed. He wanted to scream, yell, fight, do something but he knew if he did, Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. He watched in horror as the demon repositioned your body. “You deserve a better view,” Hongjoong said, a smirk forming on his face. He hovered over you and Seonghwa pulled at his binds as Hongjoong’s hands ran over your body, skimming over your chest and up to your neck.

How desperately Seonghwa wanted to scream, threaten Hongjoong to not touch you. To get away from you. He was rendered helpless. Speechless. Useless. He watched as your body reacted but you stayed asleep. “Don’t worry about consent,” Hongjoong said, glancing over at Seonghwa. “She gave it to me earlier in the parlor.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he realized that he hadn’t been seeing things. You had been in the parlor. That’s why your robe was down there. “Just enjoy the show,” Hongjoong said before tearing his gaze away and Seonghwa could only watch helplessly as the demon kissed down your body, spreading your legs. “She’s already so wet,” Hongjoong groaned. He sat up, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and dragging your sleeping body down the bed towards him.

Seonghwa twisted against his bonds as Hongjoong took his cock in his hand, giving himself a few strokes before lining up with your entrance and pushing into you. The gasp and moan you let out made Seonghwa’s stomach churn and sink. It was the same sound you made when he sank into you for the first time.

Hongjoong let out a groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck,” he rasped. “This is what you get every night?” he asked, looking over to where Seonghwa sat, bound and gagged. “Lucky man, indeed.”

Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong’s hand gripped your hips, raising them up to rest your ass against his thighs as he thrust shallowly into you. Seonghwa blinked away the tears, turning to look away from the scene unfolding on his own bed in his own home. “If you don’t watch, I will force you and you really don’t want that,” Hongjoong growled.

Seonghwa took several deep breaths before forcing himself to look. “I should have done this before,” Hongjoong said as he kept the same steady pace, thrusting into you, small whimpers and moans leaving your lips. “Should have fucked your precious Blossom on that altar right in front of you. Impregnated her and sent her on her way. Let her raise my child alone.”

Seonghwa felt his blood boil as Hongjoong spoke. “Maybe I’ll do that now. Impregnate your wife and make you raise my child. Would you like that? You want a family so bad, right?” Hongjoong asked with a laugh. You let out a louder moan. Hongjoong pulled out of you, gently rolling you onto your stomach. He grabbed your hips, tucking a pillow under it before sinking back into you.

“Is this how you fuck her?” he asked Seonghwa who could no longer hold back the tears. “You bend her over like this and fuck her until you fill her up? She likes it rough, doesn’t she?” he asked. Seonghwa glared at Hongjoong and if looks could kill, Hongjoong would probably be dead.

He let out another laugh, picking up the pace as he pounded into you. Wanton moans left your lips as his cock pistoned in and out of your abused hole. “Bet she likes it when you stuff her full of cum,” Hongjoong grunted as he placed a hand on the back of your head, pushing your head down into the linens. “Likes it when you empty your balls into her. Do you talk to her while you do it? Tell her how you’re gonna fill her up and put a baby in her?” Hongjoong asked, his hips slamming into you now.

“Do you cum multiple times? Fill her up as much as possible? Until it leaks out of her and spills down the inside of her thighs? Do you hold her down and tell her to take all of it?” Seonghwa blinked, tears streaming down his cheeks and staining the torn curtain that was his makeshift gag.

“I wonder why she isn’t pregnant yet,” Hongjoong mused as he continued to thrust into you, holding you down as his hips bruised your ass with each forceful thrust. “Maybe you’re not as fertile as you once were,” he continued. “Maybe you need my sperm to start a family.”

Seonghwa twisted in the chair as Hongjoong continued. Your moans grew in pitch as Hongjoong pounded into you. His hand disappeared under your head and pulled you up out of the sheets. “Let him hear you, blossom,” Hongjoong said breathlessly in your ear. Seonghwa struggled against the bonds. “Let him hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Without the sheets to muffle you, moans and screams of pleasure left your lips. “That’s right,” Hongjoong growled as he slammed into you. “I’m making you feel this good. Not him. Has he ever made it feel this good?” Seonghwa thrashed against his bonds. “Oh, I think I’m gonna cum,” Hongjoong groaned into your ear. “You want it inside you, kitten? Want me to fill you up just like he does?”

You moaned loudly as Hongjoong’s hips never faltered. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear. “Cum for me. Show him what you look like when you cum on another man’s cock.”

Seonghwa watched through tears as your body shook, your orgasm washing over you, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips before your body went limp. Hongjoong kept a tight hold on you, his hips now chasing his own high. Seonghwa watched defeatedly as Hongjoong thrust into you a few more times before letting out a low moan, hips stilling as he came, filling you and painting your walls in his release.

His tears hadn’t stopped as Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts, pushing his cum deeper inside you before he pulled out, letting your limp body fall onto the bed, your slumber never once breaking. Hongjoong stumbled off the bed, making his way over to where Seonghwa sat. He crouched down, looking up at Seonghwa as his head hung in defeat, tears still spilling from him.

Hongjoong stood up and grabbed Seonghwa by the hair, pulling his head back to look up at him. “It’s not that bad,” Hongjoong said as he untied the gag and pulled the wet strip of curtain from his face. Seonghwa spat out the wadded up piece of cloth and glared up at the demon. “You’re fucking despicable,” he snapped. “Truly and utterly disgusting.”

Hongjoong smirked as he leaned down, bringing his face level with Seonghwa’s. “Am I?” he asked. He glanced down. “If I’m disgusting, what does that make you?” he asked, his hand moving over the erection in Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa tried to squirm away from the demon. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat. Hongjoong’s grip on his hair tightened. “Behave,” the demon hissed.

Seonghwa stopped fighting and went rigid as Hongjoong’s hand ghosted over his hard cock. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Hongjoong asked, looking into Seonghwa’s eyes. “Watching me fuck your wife. You really liked it,” he said, his hand slipping into Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa squirmed under him as Hongjoong’s hand gripped him over his underwear.

“Do you want me to relieve you or do you want her to do it?” Hongjoong asked. “Actually,” the demon said. He let go of Seonghwa and moved to the bed, leaning over to whisper something in your ear. Seonghwa watched as you started to stir, rolling onto your side and crawling to the edge of the bed. Hongjoong helped you off the bed and guided you over to where Seonghwa sat.

“On your knees, kitten,” Hongjoong instructed. You did as he said almost as if you were in a trance. “Here, let’s get this out of the way,” Hongjoong said, grabbing the waistband of Seonghwa’s pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, watching as Seonghwa’s erection sprang free.

“Oh, there’s more to you than meets the eye,” Hongjoong said with a chuckle as he eyed Seonghwa. Tearing his gaze away and knelt behind you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “That looks uncomfortable,” he said, gently caressing your cheek. “We should relieve him. Open your mouth, kitten.” Seonghwa looked away as you did so. Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair as he guided your head towards Seonghwa’s cock.

Seonghwa let out a strangled moan as he felt your mouth envelope his cock. Hongjoong kept a firm hold on your head, pushing you down on Seonghwa’s cock. “Open your throat,” Hongjoong instructed. “Just like you did for me. Let him in, baby.” Seonghwa glared at the demon. “Don’t you fucking call her that,” he growled, an involuntary moan leaving his lips as his cock slid into your throat.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong asked. He guided your head, fucking Seonghwa’s cock with your mouth. “Keep going, sweetheart. He likes it. He really likes it,” he continued, smirking at Seonghwa’s reaction. “F-fuck,” Seonghwa cursed, head falling back against the chair.

“More?” Hongjoong asked. Without waiting for his answer, Hongjoong forced your head to move faster. Seonghwa groaned, hips bucking up into your face. Hongjoong held your head still. “Go ahead,” Hongjoong said. “Fuck her face. She loved it when I did that.” Seonghwa shook his head. “No,” he said breathlessly. “Do it,” Hongjoong urged. Seonghwa refused again, shaking his head. “No. I won’t.”

The demon’s brow furrowed as he pushed your head down, forcing Seonghwa’s cock into your throat. “Either you fuck her mouth or I’ll take over and make you cum myself.” Seonghwa groaned and reluctantly did as he said, hips bucking up into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Hongjoong held your head in place as Seonghwa chased his own high, letting out strained moans and whimpers until he let out a strangled groan. Hongjoong pushed your head down, Seonghwa cock sliding into your throat as he came, his cock twitching, his release spilling down your throat.

Hongjoong held you still as Seonghwa’s hips bucked weakly until he fell limp. Only then did Hongjoong pull you back, muttering praise in your ear as you coughed and gasped. He guided you back to the bed before moving to pick up the clothes he’d taken from the closet. Once he was dressed he walked over to where Seonghwa sat and slowly undid his bonds.

“Consider us even,” Hongjoong said as he dropped the torn bits of curtain to the floor. He walked over to the balcony door, glancing out into the rain. He could see glowing red eyes out in the trees and knew the hounds had found him. “One last thing,” he said over his shoulder as he undid the latch on the doors and turned the knob, opening one, the sound of rain becoming louder.

“Take care of your family.”

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

[starcurtain]

More Phaidei Fics I Want to Read

1. Obligatory "fish out of water" fic (mostly AU because the timeline would probably not match canon, but we do what we want here!), taking place after Mydei and the Kremnoans first make it to Okhema. Okhema is already harsh on outsiders, let alone on a conquering "barbarian" tribe infamous for bringing strife to so many other city states. Mydei doesn't know the local customs at all, and while he doesn't care the slightest about how these pathetic Okhemans see him, the trouble he keeps getting into is affecting the reputations of innocent Kremnoans too. He's got to find a way to blend in, at least enough to stop costing his fellows any chance of finding paid work... Too bad the only person who is willing (and has time) to help is Phainon (who isn't native to Okhema either but done a much better job of learning to get along with the locals). The guy thinks he's the Titans' gift to Amphoreus just because he beat Mydei in a duel once. It was only once! And why does it matter whether we eat standing up or lying down? What are you laughing at, Savior Complex?! Or, tl;dr: The culture clash comedy one where Phainon and Mydei teach each other entirely opposing sets of manners, and come to learn a lot more about one another in the process.

2. Also obligatory omegaverse where Mydei is an omega born with a unique constitution: he's built like an alpha, snarls like an alpha, and dominates his opponents like an alpha. He even smells like an alpha, especially when he's in heat, so the only people who ever figured out his secondary gender were his doctor and his parents, all of whom are dead now. The whole world thinks Mydei is an alpha, and his reputation as an indomitable warrior prince pretty much hinges on people continuing to believe that. The problem is, Mydei wouldn't actually mind getting to live an omega's life, at least the part about finding a mate and starting a family. Only, who in the world would want him for a mate? Any alpha hunting for an actual omega would never think to look in Mydei's direction, betas would just be confused, and even those few alphas who are attracted to other alphas would only end up disappointed after discovering Mydei isn't one. He's nobody's ideal partner, and he'd mostly made peace with that--until Phainon. Until that upstart alpha from the middle of nowhere knocked Mydei down in a brutal spar and then pulled him up with the gentlest hand, and suddenly it mattered that no one would ever want Mydei. It mattered a lot. (Of course, the long and short of it is that Mydei is the man of Phainon's dreams, and after a series of setbacks and miscommunications and lots of silly angst, they'll find their way to a happy ending.)

3. After discovering Mydei's weakness for sweets and cute things like pink pomegranate juice, Phainon decides to engage in a bit of light-hearted teasing: He starts sending Mydei exceedingly adorable gifts and fancy candies under the guise of a "secret admirer." The joke is on Phainon, however, when it turns out Mydei finds the gifts quite charming and is determined to discover the identity of the mysterious gift giver. A reasonable person would quickly give up on the joke to avoid getting caught, but Phainon has always been weak to chasing thrills--and maybe this whole thing about being Mydei's "secret admirer" isn't too far off after all... (The real joke is that Mydei, realizing immediately who the gifts were from, invented an entire "hunting my admirer down" story just for the fun of watching Phainon squirm--and, well, because keeping the whole thing going, being showered with attention by his rival, doesn't feel too bad at all.)

4. The opposite fic: The one where Mydei's completely mismatched online personality accidentally catfishes Phainon and causes some very silly drama. Mydei's (anonymous) teletweet account is full of cutesy chimera kitten memes, aesthetic pictures of food, heart emojis, and overly punctuated (with exclamation points) recaps of shopping trips in Okhema's market... Can anyone blame Phainon for thinking this is the account of a cute girl who is refreshingly earnest about her love for chubby seals and pink milk tea? But as Phainon becomes closer and closer to "Fig Stew" online, things get more and more complicated--because he's also been getting closer and closer to his real world companion Mydeimos lately. Both Fig and Mydei are wonderful, and Phainon can barely bear the thought of losing either of them in his life. Trying to get closer to them both would be way too dishonest, but choosing one over the other... What should he do? Meanwhile, Mydei is in trouble. He wasn't planning to set up some secret identity or anything; it's not his fault Phainon mistook him for a girl online! There's nothing weird about dudes posting sparkling kitten gifs, godsdammit!! But now the charade's gone on way too long to come clean, especially since Phainon seems so invested, and... well, can you blame Mydei for not wanting to give up on the closest thing to a relationship he's ever managed to start? tl;dr: Online mistaken identity hijinks fic.

5. The required-in-every-fandom time travel fic (with bonus fake dating)! Through an outpouring of Oronyx's power, Mydei and Phainon end up in the bodies of their future selves, who, it turns out, have not only managed to end Amphoreus' war and revive Castrum Kremnos, but... appear to have also... gotten married?!! Now Mydei and Phainon have to not only find out exactly how their future selves managed to save the world (so they can accomplish the same task) then look for a way back to their own time--they've got to do all of that while also pretending to be a happily wedded pair of rulers to avoid raising everyone's suspicions. This would be a whole lot easier if either of them knew the first thing about being actual kings... or about relationships. The slightest slip up could create ripple effects that change the entire timeline permanently, but--no matter how nerve-wracking it might be to admit, after seeing the future in store for them together--there's nothing Phainon (and Mydei) won't do to make sure things go exactly as they should.

[pshbites]

the word zionist / zionism. 

To preface, these are my own thoughts and beliefs. I am not making this post to bash any writers on this platform because I believe enough of that is already happening. This post is rather being made to spread awareness of what I believe is going on.

The word Zionism in my own terms, if I were asked to describe it in front of people, would be the belief of the ethnic cleansing of Palestine and ridding Palestinians of their own home. If i were asked as a muslim to describe it, my answer would be different. The answer I would give would be the ethnic cleansing of palestine and ridding palestinians of their own home because they are muslims. In short, killing muslims in the benefit to ethnic cleansing. Now that the term has been defined I think most can agree why this term is so loaded, the term in itself has connotations to islamophobia and many muslim mutuals of mine agree that this term is heavy and loaded.

To accuse someone of being a zionist (someone who follows zionism) is a hefty statement and can be plausible if the correct evidence has been provided. That isn't the case from what I’ve seen though. Two of my close mutuals have been accused of being as such by other writers. Seeing as I am muslim and I believe, muslims more than anyone have more reason to believe who is and who is not a zionist, I decided to message them myself. 

This conversation ended rather quickly because I blocked the person, okwonyo, involved. To accuse a muslim of being a zionist is one thing, but to claim that “being muslim has nothing to do with this” is another. Calling people zionists is not something that can be brushed past so easily and the only evidence being that the person involved had a Lana Del Rey song as her fic title? To put it simply, it shows where your real activism lies and that is to villainize others for no reason.

I agree, supporting zionism is bad, I agree with that more than anyone. But to focus on such a miniscule detail when you claim to want better for palestine, well that defeats the whole purpose. If this writer and their mutuals claim that this is an act of zionism then let's open up a case. If having your fic title as a lana del rey song is equated to being a zionist, then writing for enhypen or any other kpop group makes you one as well.

According to this writer's logic, if writing any sort of fic related to a song by a zionist makes you one, then writing for kpop idols under zionist companies makes you just as bad. You cannot have your cake and eat it too. You cannot stream enhypen or other kpop groups if you claim that you can't separate art from the artist, well then your genre of kpop is gone as a whole along with other musicians you like such as ariana grande, taylor swift, the weekend, and billie eilish, to name some. 

My point here is that if you claim that you can't separate art from the artist, then hold that same candle to your own favs, kpop or otherwise. This was never about the lana del rey fic title but rather about the fact that your activism will only matter to you when you want to villainize someone for something. I have seen performative activism and this is a call out to ALL writers and not just one.

If you want to sit behind your screen and accuse zionism on someone, then go and use a genocide to paint them as a villain to your band of supporters, you are wasting time. Time is being wasted every second you do this to someone (surprisingly enough it didn't happen once) and instead if you claim that you care so much about Palestine then go out and do something about it. Like I said previously, go donate, attend rallies and protests, support your local mosques, boycott things that REALLY matter. If you would do these things rather than blindly attacking someone for no reason and accusing them of being part of such a disgusting group of people, you would be doing a lot more for palestine. 

If I were to be honest, all I see from fellow writers on this app is performative activism. I have grown up knowing the genocide occurring in palestine and I have always attended protests and donated funds for as long as I can remember. I am not saying that you are lacking if you don’t do these things, but to only bring up this genocide when you want to attack someone, that is the real issue. You cannot just add a link in your bio or pinned for the sake of your followers. If you are not constantly talking about or spreading awareness for this terrible genocide that’s been occurring since the 1940s then you are a part of the problem. 

This genocide does not only exist on your phones. To sit behind a screen and only talk about it then, it diminishes all the activism you have and liquifies you to what you are and that is a performative activist. Once again, performative activism has never been cute and if this genocide only exists in the bounds of trying to villainize others, then you are just as bad as the group you claim to be so far against. 

tagging some mutuals for exposure. @cupidhoons @ourhees @elysianiki @kairoot @suneng @hyuckworld @lqfiles @jayparked @selleprotection @fatalhoon @enhastars @coqhee @leeechin

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

Ives/Toffler manifesto

Toffler watches over him and prays for him (and is SO PSYCHED to do so! Praying! His main Thing!) when he first arrives.

Toffler helps him get dressed when he dramatically jumps out of bed naked (and I could be mistaken but I feel like Toffler makes a shocked noise when he uh reveals himself.)

Toffler's so excited that Ives is awake that he's reduced to skidding up to Hart and Boyd and just sort of happily jumping in place to announce the news.

On the hike to the cave, while everyone shares a tent Ives suggests a rhyme for Toffler's hymn that he's working on and Toffler is just elated about it and Ives smiles slightly.

Ives can't resist the tantalizing smell of his blood after he gets injured thus the "HE WAS LICKING MEEEE" scene.

And then of course the creepy cannibalistic homoeroticism of Ives chasing him through the woods and eating him! This is the homoerotic cannibalism movie after all!

[sysig]

Lose myself to you (Patreon)

[emily-mooon]

Sometimes I just feel like writing a fic where chapters are episodic and I don’t have to elongate an event cause I finished it in one chapter.

And this is where I pull out a fake presentation talking about a 1930s Jancy au that is a slow burn friends to lovers where they get into weird situations and go on adventures like it’s a book written by L.M. Montgomery and has a similar energy to Little Women.

[chuluoyi]

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍

- sylus x reader

when your husband went away without so much as a proper notice, you thought you wouldn't forgive him so easily. but he tries everything to capture your heart back: spoiling and indulging you… little do you know that he expects a reward in return

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—rotten fluff, domestic bliss, explicit smut, cunnilingus, fingering, mating press, taking elements from sylus' card night of secrecy, secret times approaching dusk and spoilers! from myth beyond cloudfall

note: my first sylus x mc fic! with this i'm spreading the soft!sylus agenda and that spicy 4-star approaching dusk has destroyed me :') loosely based on this post

Sometimes, you do wonder... does Sylus really think you're that easy to placate?

On one chilly morning, you woke up only to discover your hunk of a husband gone... and in his side of the bed, a sticky note.

Your eyebrow twitched as you read the audacious message scrawled on it:

Hey, kitten. I need to leave for a few days. There are things I have to handle on my own. Take care of yourself while I’m away. I’ll come back soon.

That was it. No clear explanation, no further details. Just those vague words in such short notice. The day before, he’d seemed like his usual self, not a hint of this sudden departure in sight.

It irked you. It made your heart clench at the same time. Because even after marrying you, Sylus remained elusive, playing his cryptic games. It was beyond you how he didn't even stop to consider how you were left worrying about him while he drifted in and out of his dangerous world without a second thought.

You understood the reality of your lives—that you were a hunter and he was the Onychinus leader, and that to be with him meant you had to walk that fine gray line between light and dark.

And you'd already made your choice. You had accepted it—accepted him—wholly. Even when your marriage had been a rushed affair and registered under false names to protect both your identities.

Things couldn't go on like this. You had to teach him a lesson too.

As your irritation simmered into determination, a devious plan began to take shape in your mind—a way to spite him just enough to make your point crystal clear.

Two days later

Sylus was done with his dirty business faster than he thought, and to appease you, he had come bearing gifts.

The precious little thing that is now his wife, of course he missed you too. But your safety was a price he wasn’t willing to gamble. If going away to take care of those pests meant your peace would be unperturbed, then he would leave without hesitation.

However, as he stepped inside the base, his relief quickly turned to unease. The space was eerily empty, the usual hum of activity conspicuously absent.

Normally, you’d be at the center of some commotion, locked in a spat with either Mephisto, or Luke and Kieran. But now—

“What do we do?! She’s gone!”

Sylus immediately rushed to the source of the ruckus, thinking something bad had happened to you. He found his henchmen standing in a tight, anxious circle around the coffee table.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Without a word, they stepped aside, revealing the object of their concern: a single note lying on the table.

He snatched it up, scanning the words. Then, he let out a sharp exhale of relief, a smirk began tugging at the corners of his lips.

Catch me if you can.

Typical. Absolutely typical. And maddeningly you.

. . .

That night, you had a very strange dream, it felt almost felt like stepping into the pages of an ancient tale.

You were a fallen princess wrongfully accused as a sorceress, who began consorting with the fearsome fiend from the Abyss.

The sorceress and her dragon. Together, you were an infamous pair, a dark legend whispered across generations. Your union had ignited Doomsday itself... and yet, amidst the turmoil and destruction, the sorceress fell in love with the dragon... deeply and irrevocably.

The dragon, in turn, was utterly bewitched by his little witch. He indulged your every whim, no matter how mischievous or perilous, and though he rarely spoke of his true feelings, he always found ways to show his affection.

The lucid dream felt as though it might go on forever, but you were pulled from it by the soft brush of lips against your forehead. The warmth lingered, blurring the lines between dream and reality, until your eyes fluttered open.

“Sylus...?” His features, fresh from your dream, now materialized in your reality. It took you a few seconds to realize that he had come here—

“Morning, sweetie.” His voice was rich and smooth, with that familiar, mischievous edge. A smirk curled on his devilishly handsome face as he leaned in, garnet eyes gleaming with playful intent. “Caught you now, hmm?”

The haze of sleep vanished in an instant, and you were suddenly wide awake. In a flurry, you shoved him away and turned your back on him, trying to regain some semblance of control.

You’d left the N109 Zone for one of his safehouses in suburban Chansia City, thinking it would take him some effort to track you down. Clearly, you’d underestimated him.

“Oh. The kitten is in a bad mood, it seems.” Sylus’ gaze lingered on you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, what do I owe the ire for?”

“...”

“Silent treatment, huh? The lady of the house is getting better at our little games while I was away.”

“...”

“Remember, sweetie, there’s no divorce in our relationship, hmm? If you’re tired of me, keep taking naps.”

You felt the weight shift as he rose from the bed and stalked away. The door clicked shut, leaving you in the silence of the room.

You wanted to resent him for coming and going on his terms, for never offering even an apology. Yet, no matter how much you tried, a part of you remained hopelessly tethered to him. The part that couldn’t ignore the reminder of the dragon from your dream—captivating, powerful, and infuriatingly hard to resist.

You love him, really you do.

. . .

When you didn’t come down for breakfast some time later, Sylus barged into the room once again, and this time he came up with a different approach.

“My lady,” he began, his voice sickeningly low and sweet, but his eyes gleamed with a touch of mischief. “You haven’t had breakfast yet. Please come down.”

You shot him a look, unamused, and decided to play his game as you crossed your arms together. “What if I don't want to?”

His smirk only grew, his tone dripping with mock formality. “And what must I do to change your mind?”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but notice his persistence. He had chased you here, given you more time to sleep in, and now stood before you to get you to eat. You felt your resolve beginning to soften—maybe just a little.

“Carry me there,” you said with a hint of defiance, lifting your chin high, daring him to follow through.

Sylus tilted his head, failing to restrain his snort. “As you wish, my lady.”

He placed his arms around you effortlessly, one hand beneath your knees and the other supporting your back, lifting you into a flawless princess carry. You instinctively put your arms around his neck, and he turned to you.

You opened your mouth, ready to fire off a sharp retort, but before you could, he dived in—

Smooch!

—and planted a bold, wet kiss on your lips. You, wide-eyed, punched his chest in retaliation. “Sylus!”

He chuckled, entirely unfazed. “Careful now, sweetie. Wiggle too much, and you’ll fall.”

He carried you downstairs, effortlessly navigating each step with you still in his arms. Once there, he gently set you down onto the dining chair, and that was when you noticed the table.

Salad, slightly burnt toast, scrambled eggs, milk—simple dishes by all means, but the thought the big, bad Sylus making them?

Wait. When you arrived last night, this place was a dusty shell, and the refrigerator had practically nothing—

“You cleaned the place?” you asked, your tone laced with surprise as your turned from the spotless room to him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why is that so surprising? I can cook and clean just like everyone else.”

It sent a wave of warmth through your chest. He’d prepared food and cleaned the place knowing you’d be hungry and uncomfortable with dust all around.

You huffed, trying to hide how your heart fluttered. “No, your cooking skills are questionable at best.”

As if to prove you wrong, Sylus disappeared into the pantry and reemerged with a tray of warm, freshly baked dough that filled the room with a heavenly aroma.

“You are... baking?” You approached him, mystified at the sight of your husband, who usually at the scene of crime, behind the counter and started frosting the cupcakes.

He set the frosting bag down and picked up a cupcake, holding it to your lips with a teasing smile. “Here. Open up.”

Dutifully, you nibbled on the cupcake, and the sweetness immediately spread into your mouth. “It's tasty,” you mumbled, blinking at him. His eyes crinkled with satisfaction as he gestured toward the tray.

“Go have some more.”

Grinning, you grabbed another cupcake and eagerly took a bite. Munching away, you missed how Sylus’ gaze softened, his bright red eyes focused solely on you.

He couldn't resist pinching your full cheeks at that moment.

“Sy-wus!” you protested, glaring at him. His laughter broke free that instant, warm and unrestrained.

Utterly funny, utterly precious—that’s what you were to him.

Indignant, you scooped up some icing from the cupcake and smeared it right across his face. The stunned look he gave you was priceless, and before he could react, you burst into a fit of giggles and bolted out of the kitchen.

But as you reached the base of the stairs, a strong arm caught your waist from behind, halting your escape. You squealed in surprise, “Noooo!”

Sylus leaned closer and pressed you to his chest, his voice rumbling in your ear. “Ha. Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

He lifted you up with one arm and brought you back to the kitchen, setting you down on the counter and trapping you in place with his arms braced on either side. His eyes sparkled with mirth as he leaned in, and with a grin, he bumped his frosting-smeared nose against yours, leaving a sticky smudge.

“This is unfair!” you protested, still caught in a fit of giggles as you looped your arms around his neck for balance. Sylus chuckled along with you, his gaze steady and warm, never leaving yours.

Being with Sylus in the kitchen like this, savoring simple meals and smearing each other with frosting, it made you realize that you craved this domestic bliss more than you thought.

As the laughter subsided and you both settled into the quiet, your expression softened, all your previous grievances forgotten. The tenderness in your eyes said everything you didn’t need words for, and Sylus could see it clearly—you adored him, just as much as he adored you.

The one who gazed into his jewel-like eyes, embraced his burning soul and sang to him in the night wind... is once again in his arms. A part of him was almost sentimental at the thought.

Instinctively, he closed the distance between you, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. But as they were about to meet, he paused, as if hesitating, leaving you puzzled.

Then, without a second thought—

To hell with it.

You chose to abandon all senses. You seized the moment—yanking him to you and capturing his lips, claiming him for yourself.

“…!” Suck, suck, bite, suck— You were relentless, and you didn't really know why. At first, even he was taken aback, but then his hand slipped behind your head, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in an intoxicating rhythm.

“Mmm...” You sneakily began to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one, your fingertips grazing his warm skin with each deliberate motion. Feeling it, Sylus broke the kiss just enough to smirk, his voice husky. “Getting bold, aren’t we?”

But before you could respond, his hands trailed down your sides, firmly pulling you closer, leaving no space between the two of you. His gaze burned with desire, as if daring you to keep going.

Then, without warning, his lips began their descent, grazing your jaw softly before trailing down to your neck and chest, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers across your skin. The feeling was intoxicating, even as his hair tickled you, making it hard to focus on anything but him.

“Ahh,” you couldn’t help but sigh, pressing him closer.

His lips left wet marks on your neck, and he whispered, “Now tell me... what made you so upset that you left home?”

When you didn't answer right away, one of his hand slid beneath your blouse, unhooking your bra and grazed your skin—

“You... keep coming and going as you please...” you stammered, feeling him begin to cup and squeeze your breasts, your breath growing erratic.

Sylus bit down on the skin at the nape of your neck, and you almost gasped.

“It's almost as if— Mmm—” The way he fondled your chest made the space between your legs grow warmer. “—you wouldn’t... miss m-me at all...”

How untrue. He stopped his ministrations, and the steel behind those eyes you loved so much met your gaze once again.

His wife was a mess of sweat already. He swiftly hooked your thighs around his waist and claimed your lips once more. With effortless movement, Sylus guided you to the long recliner in the room, laying you down there, still lost in the heat of the kiss. His hand intertwined with yours, pinning you to the soft surface.

“So...” he rasped, breathless against your lips, “You’re upset that I didn't miss you when I was away...”

His other hand worked to unzip your skirt. “But don’t you know? I... was worried about my wife getting into trouble when I wasn’t with her too... That’s why I was in a hurry to go home...”

Sylus pulled away, both of you panting for air, and he took a moment to savor the sight of your glazed eyes.

“But then I couldn't find her anywhere.” His voice was low and taunting, trailing his fingers on your belly. “I made it back as soon as I could, just like I told you and you are the one who misbehaved... Don’t you think I deserve something as a compensation?”

It took you three solid seconds to realize that the lower half of your body was now exposed. Your husband parted your legs and settled his face between them, pressing a kiss on your knee.

“So I believe at the very least... I deserve this.”

He dived straight for your clit then and you let out a loud gasp.

“Ngh! Aaah...!” You let out incoherent moans as he devoured your folds, lost in the cloudy haze of pleasure. It didn’t take long to unravel you at all.

“Mmnh—!” Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head. Ticklish, hot, wet— all in all, it felt like a sin, but you just had to get this heavenly taste. “…a-ah!”

Sylus felt how you were this close to get your orgasm, so he moved faster, licking and sucking your clit, while adding a couple of fingers to bring you to the peak faster. You unconsciously moved your hips against his face— too far gone to be thinking anything else, grasping the leather of the sofa and pulling his hair—

“Ahh— S-Sylus!” And then you came hard, screaming his name, feeling how much it was— were you squirting?

You didn't know, didn't care either, as it was the sight of his ruby eyes that grounded you. You were spent, spread on the sofa (most probably ruined it, even), your chest heaving to catch your breath.

Sylus let out a low rumble as he wiped your juices off his lips with a thumb and tasted it, looking so sinfully sexy like a forbidden fruit while at it.

“You said... I wouldn't miss you.” He traced one finger on your face with such tenderness. “Now, I'm going to show you, and you'll be judge of it. Are you sure you don't want me to stop?”

If you said no, he would comply. That was the kind of person he was and you knew it. Sylus had always looked out for you since the very beginning, no matter how nonchalant he made himself to be.

“No.” You met his eyes, your voice steady. “Show me.”

It was the only affirmation he needed. He began unbuckling his belt and pants, keeping his unclouded gaze on yours, and soon he too was bare before you.

He was thick and long, and while you had taken him many times, it was never fully easy to ease the intrusion. His tip was already slick with precum, and he spread it along his length.

“You know the rule,” he murmured with a meaningful smile. “If it becomes too much, you scream, and I'll stop.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, sliding in slowly. The sharpness of the stretch seeped into you bit by bit, and you couldn't help but groan.

“—!” A sharp hiss escaped you as he fully sheathed himself inside, hitting that sensitive spot. Had your eyes deceived you, or was there a slightly noticeable bulge in your belly from where he was?

Sylus seemed to notice it too, but he folded your knees, spreading you further. His gaze intense and filled with something deep, something possessive. The room seemed to narrow, your entire focus consumed by him as he settled in close.

“Eyes on me, kitten.” He gave you a smile, and with that, he started pounding you—

“Ah, hah, ahhh!” You couldn't stop moaning beneath him as he thrusted into you. The feeling of him so deep inside, coupled with the way you tightened around him, sent waves of blind pleasure through you.

Sylus’ eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he watched you squirm under him. Your skin glistened with the heat of the moment, and the sound of your breaths, frantic and needy, filled the room. His control slipped, just a little, as he pushed deeper, his movements faster, chasing the release that quickly building within both of you.

A pretty mess, his wife is. Your face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain as he bred you, and he swore, of everything he had gone through, this look in your face was always worth it.

“Sylus—!” you almost wailed, nails digging into his back, and he growled, knowing full-well that he was finally losing it.

Just like that he shot his cum straight to your womb, his own body shuddering, thoroughly rutting into you. You cried, tears falling from your lashes as you too reached your climax.

Full, too full... Yet you knew that you wouldn't have it another way.

. . .

It felt warm and comforting.

Your eyes fluttered open hours later, and the first thing you noticed was Sylus' sleeping face, and that you were now in the bedroom.

He looked so vulnerable like this. You couldn’t help but be drawn to how serene and unguarded he was, a side of him that only you got to see. Even in his sleep, his arms were wrapped around your waist, as if to protect you from anything that might disturb your rest.

Your lover... and then husband. He was rough around the edges, sometimes didn't make any sense at all, and often reckless enough to burn himself playing with fire.

“You sly crow…” You gazed at his profile, still in awe that this elusive man was your husband.

Sylus was easy to read sometimes, and you couldn’t help but smile at your earlier doubts about him. How could you not see just how deeply he was attached to you?

Just like the inseparable pair of dragon and sorceress in your dream, you knew you’d stay by his side until the very end.

Out of a playful surge of affection, you tapped his nose, and he grunted softly but didn’t wake, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, seeking more of your warmth. It was cute, how he was so worn out that he sought comfort in your embrace.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead then, vowing with everything you had that you’d never let him go, and that with him by your side, you would definitely made this life you shared a happy one.

Several weeks later...

“Thank you, miss!”

The boy bowed his head with a wide grin as soon as you handed him the red pocket money for Linkon New Year. You waved at him, smiling warmly as he skipped away, clutching the envelope in his hands.

The festive occasion inspired you to pay a visit to a nearby orphanage, driven by a desire to share more of the joy and blessings. You brought small gifts and red envelopes, hoping to bring a little light to the children’s lives and make the celebration even more meaningful for them.

Of course, Sylus tagged along too. He was the benefactor, after all.

“Sir, thank you for your generosity.” The headmistress approached Sylus, who looked effortlessly sharp in his red suit, and gave his hand a shake. “The children are really happy with the cupcakes and pocket money.”

He merely chuckled and pointed at you with his chin. “Thank her, my wife is the one with the idea.”

You joined the conversation shortly after, and it didn’t take long for the topic to shift from the orphanage to your personal lives.

“So, do the two of you have plans to start a family soon?” the headmistress asked, her tone warm and curious. “Both of you are still young, and you're so good with kids. Having children of your own might bring even more joy into your lives.”

You mustered a polite laugh, the words to gracefully deflect her comment forming on your lips, when—

“Soon,” Sylus interjected smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Very soon, in fact.”

You blinked at him, startled by his bold declaration, while the headmistress’s face lit up with approval. You nudged him discreetly.

As soon as the headmistress went on her way, you turned to him with a frown. “Why would you tell her that?”

Your gaze met his, clear and utterly clueless. Sylus snorted, so tempted to pinch your cheeks, but settling instead for a tender pat on your head.

“You'll see soon enough, sweetie,” he replied, his tone laced with playful mystery.

Epilogue

It was the dead of night when a sudden wave of nausea overtook you. Stumbling out of bed, you rushed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before retching up the contents of your stomach.

Your body trembled as you stood, dizziness threatening to topple you. Leaning heavily on the sink for support, you rinsed your mouth, trying to steady yourself. The effort left you shivering, your legs almost buckling beneath you.

Before you could even comprehend the blur in your vision, a pair of strong arms got a hold over you. “S-Sylus...?” you murmured faintly.

Without hesitation, he lifted you into his arms securely as he carried you back to the bedroom, his expression shadowed with concern.

As he settled you onto the bed, he held you close, pressing your face against his bare chest that peeked from his unbuttoned shirt. “Take deep breaths,” he urged softly, his voice grounding you.

You inhaled shakily, letting the familiar warmth of his scent calm your frayed nerves. Slowly, your breathing steadied, though the nausea still lingered in the back of your throat.

“Is it the first time?” he questioned, smoothing your hair. “Have you thrown up before?”

You shook your head. “No... I get dizzy spells but that's it... This is the first time.”

Nausea, dizziness, vomiting. It wasn't hard to piece together what it was. Amidst your dazed thoughts, the realization hit you, and you turned to your husband almost in wonder. “Sylus... a-am I...?”

Sylus broke into a smirk, ruffling your hair. “Told you. I know your period is late.”

Your heart skipped a beat—and it was the only thing you could hear in that moment. The thought that a baby would enter your lives left you briefly speechless.

“Yeah, at the rate we're going, it’s like we’re bunnies,” you quipped sullenly, trying to regain a sense of control as you leaned into his broad chest.

You really thought he would poke fun at you for your highly possible pregnancy, but instead you were taken aback when he pressed a fond, lingering kiss to the side of your head. His arms tightened around you, his soft chuckle reverberating through his chest.

And when you found his gaze again, his jewel-like eyes softened into such an extent that made your heart soar.

“Well, aren’t I the luckiest man— having this fair lady be the mother of my child?”

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Touch of Madness

Logan Howlett X girlfriend!reader

Summary: Logan comes to you after being away, and all he wants is your touch, and he knows just how to get on your good side. This is just porn without plot.

Takes place in the same universe as Too Sweet but can be read as standalone

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, couch sex, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, the claws make an appearance (I have a thing for his claws okay), Logan is obsessed with his girl, fluffy relationship, established relationship

WC: 3.9k

A/N: how did I make this longer than too sweet when it was supposed to be a Drabble. Hello idk how to write short shit. But like hello yall are so awesome? I appreciate all the love yall have given my first Logan fic. I also have an older Logan fic in the works but that one has plot so it’ll be a minute before its out. For now here this <3

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were driving him mad. It’s not like he deserved your anger. Not fully anyway. It wasn’t his fault he was gone this long. He had been thinking about you all week, about your soft lips, about the warmth of your thighs, about your sweet moans only for his ears to hear. And all he wanted was to pull you into his arms and take you, over and over, until you begged him to stop. 

But no. 

You were being childish. That’s what he called it anyway. 

“Sweet girl,” he called after you, like a puppy following close behind you as you strided around your apartment. He knew you were doing it on purpose, the excuse of having to do chores so you could elongate his torture. The way you so innocently looked back at him made him clench his jaw. “C’mon.” 

“Don’t sweet girl me, Logan. I told you, I’m busy.” You sassed him, huffing as you kept walking, finding the most insignificant of chores to waste your time with. He rolled his eyes at you, eyebrows furrowed into this perpetual gaze of annoyance. 

The truth was, you were aching for him, your thighs warm and your skin tingling solely at the thought of him taking you to do as he pleased. But, if there was something in this world you could be, it was petty. And if you had to suffer a whole week without him, he could suffer for an hour, even if it was also at your expense. Truly, you almost enjoyed the annoyance in his face, the sharpness in his voice, him damn near groaning behind you every time you evaded him under the excuse of needing to get some dumb chore done. 

“You’re killin’ me here, sugar.” He actually groaned this time, his jaw set. You stopped in your tracks and turned your head to look at him, shooting him a pointed look. “I said I was sorry.”

“Serves you right. And I don’t care if you’re sorry. You haven’t called me in a week.” Your words were sharp with bitterness and it dawned on him. That was why you were upset. A slight bit of humor tugged at the corner of his lips and he breathed out a laugh. You stared at him with blank eyes, you weren’t laughing. 

“C’mon, is that seriously why you’re upset? You know I was out of the state.” He tried to reason with you. Charles had entrusted him and Storm with finding a certain mutant that was causing havoc, three states over. And Logan had very much underestimated how long this would take them. So here he was, after a whole week away, damn near begging you to let him touch you. “It wasn’t like I wanted to go anyway.”

No, he would much rather be with his sweet girl, one that was being particularly difficult and making him suffer when all he wanted to do was hold you, to feel the warmth of your soft skin. 

He stepped into your personal space, his intoxicating scent almost making you give in. You counted to five in your head, eyes closed to remind yourself that you were, indeed, angry at him. 

“So? You got a phone, don’t you? You could’ve called me.” You huffed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a small pout, Logan had to hold back the urge to laugh at you. “You can’t disappear for a week and expect to come here and do as you please.” 

You shot him a sharp glare, he just stared at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden shot of confidence. His sweet girl was talking back to him? Giving him attitude? He tilted his head at you, almost as if to dare you to walk away from him.  

There was a bit of malice in your eyes as you gave him one last look before you walked away, thinking of what other useless chore you could add to continue his torture. But Logan had other thoughts in his head. If you weren’t going to behave, he would happily put you in your place. 

“Hey, c’mere or I’m gonna bring you here myself.” He called after you, the strings of his sanity hanging on by a thread, just waiting for you to tug at the last strand. He knew you too well. You turned your head, eyes big in feign innocence and you tilted your head at him in defiance. 

“Make me then.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. In hindsight you should have known better, but you also wanted to see just what could happen if you pushed him hard enough. You saw the way his eyes flashed with malice, he stared you down, and in that moment you remembered just how small you were compared to him. “Oh fuck.” 

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through you, but it wasn’t like you could go outrun him, especially not in your tiny apartment. He caught you, though he did purposely chase you into your living room, simply because he wanted to get you going, pumped with adrenaline. You squealed as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you against his chest. His sharp canines nipped at that one spot on your neck that had you whimpering. 

“You goin’ somewhere, sugar?” He husked, his lips hot on your cheek. You couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, eyes closed. God, you missed him. 

“Mhm, still mad at you.” You mumbled, barely hanging on to your silly grudge. A chuckle rumbled in Logan’s chest. 

“That’s alright. I don’t need you to be happy with me to do what I want to do.” He inhaled, breathing your sweet scent, and he spoke as he threw you over his shoulder. “Just need you to look pretty while I do it.” 

You weren’t complaining about your position, you were in fact, bursting into giggles as he effortlessly carried you to the couch, though your giggles turned into another squeal when he smacked his hand flat against your ass. Logan had a grin on his lips as he tossed you on the couch, wasting no time in spreading your legs apart to settle between them.

He leaned down, gripping the armrest above your head, caging you in as he leaned down. He brushed his nose against yours, sighing softly.

“Don’t be such a brat. Kiss me.” The words rumbled in his chest with a groan, his primal needs overcoming his senses. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You laced your fingers in his hair, pulling into a hard and heated kiss.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as he shrugged off his flannel, tossing it somewhere on the floor, his belt soon following the same fate. You tried to sit up against the armrest, but you quickly realized Logan had other plans deep in his perverted mind. With a hold of your ankle he dragged you down on the couch, your back flat on the surface as you looked up at him with big eyes.

“Stay just like that, pretty.” He spoke, pressing another heated kiss to your mouth before tugging off your sweatpants, followed by your panties. He tossed them somewhere over his shoulder, somewhere you would have to run around searching for later. But you couldn’t give a fuck about that. All you could focus on was the heat forming between your legs as Logan settled between them.

His eyes met with yours one last time before he was diving in between your warm thighs. His tongue licked long stripes from your hole up to your clit, circling around the sensitive nerve before going back down. Over and over until your soft gasps and sighs of pleasure turned into moans. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open to do as he pleased. One leg hung over the back of the couch and the other was thrown over his shoulder, and he effortlessly held you down as he shoved his tongue into your cunt. He was like an animal, insatiable as he took you on his tongue.

“Oh fuck. Shit—Logan—” Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as you whined. You gripped the back of the couch, soft twitches taking over you each time his nose brushed your clit.

It was no secret that Logan found pleasure in giving you yours, and he ate you like it. Grunts and hums rumbled in his chest as his tongue found your clit again, and he reveled in the particularly high pitched cry you let out when he slipped two fingers into your wet core. 

“Needed to taste you so fuckin’ bad. I thought about it all week.” He spat into your clit, groaning at the way your tight walls squeezed his fingers. He could only imagine what you would do when it was his cock stretching your walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted, fingers lacing in his hair as he lapped at your clit. You wished you could hold your pleasure, rivet in it for just a little bit longer, but the way he curled his fingers against your most sensitive spot, the way his tongue was so relentless on your swollen clit, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my—”

Your words never left your throat, chest pounding with sheer adrenaline as your release coated his face and fingers. It was sudden, it left you breathless as your thighs twitched with aftershock. Your eyes were wide and glossy in shock as you shuddered with the remnants of your orgasm. It wasn’t until you pathetically attempted to drag yourself away that Logan stopped. You were shaking, gasping softly when he pulled his fingers from you, but you all but cried when he licked at your wet pussy, getting a taste of you.

“Logan, please I can’t—” Your voice was shaky as you tried to move away from his face, he chuckled at you, pressing his face against your inner thigh before he crawled up to your face.

“‘Is okay. You did good.” He kissed your lips, his large hands holding your face as he let you taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned, clenching around nothing already in anticipation of him filling you. “You wanna stop?”

“No, no, no! Need you, please!” You were quick to protest, wrapping your legs around his waist to prevent him from going anywhere. You couldn’t really stop him from doing anything, but he found it endearing that you tried. He bumped his nose against yours, lips pulled up into a tiny smile.

“Need me where, hm?” He opened his eyes to look at you, and truly how he didn’t bend you over the nearest flat surface the second he saw you was beyond his comprehension. You looked so perfect like this, underneath him, clinging to him. His sweet girl. He didn’t know what it was about you, but from the moment he met you he was done for. You drove him absolutely mad and now he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Inside me, Logan. Please.” You sighed out, face flushed with embarrassment. He smoothed out the frown lines on your forehead with a tiny kiss. A sweet gesture in comparison to what he was about to do to you.

In one swift motion he had you bent over the armrest, with your ass to him and your chest flat against the armrest. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip as you glanced over your shoulder to watch as he pulled off his white tank top. Your glazed eyes fawned over each perfect muscle in his body, taking particular interest in the veins that popped in his arm when he flexed them as he ridded himself of his jeans. How you ended up with a man so incredibly hot, you had no idea, but you were thanking the Gods for that.

“I need to be inside you, too.” He rasped into your ear, groaning in ecstasy as he sank himself into your needy cunt. Your jaw fell open he filled you, inch by inch. He pulled your t-shirt over your head, instantly attaching his lips to your shoulder as he rutted his hips against your ass. 

His pace was grueling from the start, grip tight on your hips, sure to leave bruises in the morning. A little reminder of his intoxicating presence. You braced yourself on the armrest, sounds of pleasure leaving your lips almost instantly. He pressed his forehead against your cheek, the thick hairs on his chest leaving a tingling sensation across your back as he held you flush against his chest. Heavy breaths filled your ears as you so desperately reached to touch him, any of him. Your trembling fingers found the sound of his face and he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“This what you needed, hm? Maybe I should fuck sweet pussy more often? Give it more attention?” He grunted the words in your ears, lips pressed against your cheek as a sheen layer of sweat began to coat your soft skin. You whimpered and nodded weakly, your cunt clenching him with excitement. He smirked softly, his hand coming up to lace through your hair. “Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet girl?”

Logan held your face down as his hips drilled into you, each delicious drag of his cock bringing you closer and closer to your sweet release. God, you needed it. All you could do was moan in response.

“Y-yes! God, yes. Please Logan.” You whined out shamelessly, eyes rolled back into your head. Logan hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple, the gentle gesture ironic considering just what he was doing to you. He said nothing as he sneaked his free hand to the front of your body, rough fingers rubbing harsh circles on your sensitive clit. Your jaw fell open, your hand flying to grip his wrist. Your thighs clenched around his hand, whining as his cock  brushed that one spot that had you seeing white. “Logan—”

Your voice was a warning, but he welcomed it. He flicked his wrist without mercy as he rolled his hips, his words only encouraging you to fall apart for him.

“Come for me, pretty girl. You can do that, can’t you? I know you want to.” He let go of your hair to turn your head to meet his eager lips. He happily swallowed the pathetic sounds that left your mouth as he flicked at your clit, his cock hitting so impossibly deep you were left trembling as your release seeped around him. 

Logan held you down on his cock, his thumb playing with your clit until you were gasping and your nails dug into the skin of his wrist. He kissed along your jaw as his hips stilled for just a second, your body still shaking underneath him.

“You okay?” He asked softly, grabbing your face to look at him. You looked at him with hooded eyes and nodded weakly, barely lifting yourself off the couch.

“Yeah. ‘m okay.” 

Logan tilted his head at you, an eyebrow raised with amusement as he leaned down to leave a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Perfect.”

He grabbed your hips, pulling out his cock to manhandle you onto your back before he was sinking himself into you again. Your slick walls welcomed him perfectly, like this was the only place he belonged, but he wasn’t complaining. If he could die, he would die happily buried deep in your cunt.

“Oh, God, Logan.” You gasped, thighs twitching as you looked down to find where his thick cock is filling you, splitting you open over and over. Your jaw fell open as you watched him grab one of your ankles and he held it up by his shoulder, spreading you open for him to dig himself deeper and deeper within you tight walls. 

“Look at me, baby.” He groaned, chest heavy as a thin layer of sweat covered his muscled body. You did your best to comply, you looked up, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure as he damn near folded your body in half. Your knees were pressed against your chest as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “Yes, there she is. My pretty girl. I missed you.” 

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, and also at the sting of his cock rapidly bringing you to your third release. The way he brought your legs to his shoulders, he sunk himself so deep within your walls you swore you felt him in your stomach. It felt so good you wanted to cry.

“Missed you too, Logan.” You brought your lips up to his, eyebrows furrowed into an expression of pure arousal as you gripped his hair, clinging to him for dear life.

Your release was quick and sudden, hitting you without a warning the second Logan pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. You were just so sensitive, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed. You clutched on to his large bicep as you spilled around his cock. The way your tight walls squeeze him made him groan, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on chasing his own release while fucking you through your own.

“Look at you, you’re just so good for me. Fuck it, I’ll just take you with me next time.” Groans fell freely from his soft lips as he braced himself on the back of the couch with one hand, and the other held the armrest above your head. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours as your sweet praises and chants of his name filled his ears. 

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was animalistic, a deep growl as he coated your insides with his hot release. The metallic sound of sharp claws filled your ears once more as his claws unsheathed themselves from his knuckles, one on the back of the couch and the other just above your head, again. You gasped his name with a soft laugh, though you would be lying if you said it didn’t drive you feral when his claws accidentally came out. You brought a hand to his face as he pulled his claws out of your couch, the sharp metal once again hiding themselves within his knuckles with a sound. He held himself up on his forearm as his head fell to your neck.

“I’ll pay for it.” He muttered a chuckle into your neck, leaving a soft kiss to your jaw. You laughed, draping a hand over your forehead, breathing in deeply as you felt your mixed releases seep around his cock and drip onto the couch. He should just buy you a new couch, he thought.

“Wanna buy me a new body while you’re at it?” You teased him, already sensing you would have bruises and your thighs would ache for days.

“Did I hurt you?” Concern filled his voice as he lifted his head to scan your face for any discomfort as his hand came up to graze the thigh draped over his waist. You scrunched up your nose at him and shook your head.

“Of course not hun. Don’t be silly.” You traced your fingers over his face and gave him a lopsided smile.

“I did miss you, for the record.” 

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too Logan.”

“Lemme clean you up sugar.” He sneaked a kiss to your cheek as he untangled himself from you, much to your protest.

You whined at the emptiness he left you as he stood up. Though you did quite enjoy the sight of his perfect ass he walked off to find something to clean his mess with. When he came back, he had a small towel and he cleaned you without protest, he left warm kisses on your face as you talked to him about your day. He ultimately tossed the towel aside and slipped on his boxers, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his still hard cock, but you needed a break. You didn’t let him leave though, reaching to grab his wrist with soft eyes

“Wanna watch a movie? I miss watching movies with you.” You mumbled, voice soft as you looked at him with pleading eyes. He laughed softly at you, you made it sound like you hadn’t seen him in a month.

But, how could he ever say no to his sweet girl?

“Mhm, put on somethin’ .” He gently moved you so that he was lying behind you on the couch, his big arms wrapped around you as he held you against his chest. Though you were still completely naked, you paid no mind to it. It actually felt kinda nice to be so close to him and feel the warmth of his body in such an intimate way.

He covered you both with the throw blanket you always kept over the couch for days exactly like this, for those days you wanted to feel warm and close with him on the couch. He ignored the three holes where stuffing was coming out of the ripped fabric as he pulled the soft blanket up to your chest and as you happily settled in his arms, clicking away at the TV. He would buy you a new couch, just as he bought you new pillows, and new blankets. And anything you asked him to, really.

Logan wasn’t used to domestic, the soft touches, cuddling, but he liked doing it with you. He craved it actually, probably just as much as he craved the sex.

“Next time you’re away that long, just give me a call? Please? So that I’m not worried sick thinking you died.” You finally said, the whole reason for such intense feelings merely an hour ago finally surfacing. He laughed softly at how ridiculous you sounded. He technically can’t die, he thought.

“I wouldn’t.. I can’t…Y’know what? You’re right. I’m still getting used to this whole having a girl thing. But I'll do better, yeah? Don’t need you to be mad, sugar.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, settling his face on your neck as he attempted to pay attention to whatever horror movie you decided to watch today. “But if you’re gonna let me fuck you like that when you’re mad, get mad more often.” 

“Logan.” You scolded him, nudging his ribs softly as a warm blush coated your cheeks, knowing you wouldn’t hurt him, but it still made him chuckle. 

He had to admit, he lasted way longer than he did last time. He lasted almost halfway through the movie before the feeling of his cock sitting hot and heavy in his boxers became apparent to him again. He inhaled your scent softly, his lips ghosting over your neck as he rolled his hips softly against your ass. And while you did try to protest, whining that you wanted to get through one movie with him, the sting of his cock was better than any movie in this world. The credits rolled, the soundtrack now drowned out by the sound of your sweet moans. Logan would be damned if he let you leave the warmth of his body for even just one second tonight. Or maybe ever. 

[imaginedisish]

Modern Love (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! Here's something short and sweet. This is based on a request, so I hope the requester enjoys :) No song references here, but "Modern Love" by David Bowie seems appropriate. It's 80s, New Wave-y, and we're in an arcade in this fic, so it fits.

Summary: The team goes out to an arcade, and Logan is his usual grumpy self...but his soft spot for you is more clear than ever.

Warnings: Suggestive content (would totally write a second part with some true smut), tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, cursing, f!reader/afab!reader, grumpy!Logan, Jubilee is a cock block LOL, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,685 short and sweet indeed

“I do not want to be here,” Logan complains, rolling his eyes as the team strolls into the arcade. 

Jubilee skips inside, twirling with excitement. “Well, that’s just too bad, Logan!” She calls, running over to the arcade’s version of Dance Dance Revolution. Kurt is laughing, following at her heels. “Because everyone else is going to have a great time!” 

“Gambit’s winning big tonight,” Gambit says, taking Rogue’s hand in his. “Gambit’s winning chere a prize, he is.” Rogue blushes, letting Gambit pull her to one of the fake slot machines. 

Jean and Scott walk over to an older machine—Pac-Man or something similar, probably. Storm and Charles head towards the seating area near the snack bar in the back, leaving you and Logan to yourselves. Of course. You’re alone with Logan. The person you want but you know you can’t have. 

You’re friends—just friends. You’ve accepted that he’ll never see you as anything more, but it still hurts. 

“So…” You say, trailing off as Logan looks around the arcade. “Not your kind of place, huh?”

“Not particularly,” he says back, his eyes finding yours. You can’t help but smile at that stupid, grumpy look on his face. “You like this shit?” He asks, smiling back at you. 

You shrug your shoulders, noncommittal. “I think you’d have fun if you tried,” you say, nodding towards the crane machine, and walking over. You can hear Logan’s footsteps against the carpet, following you close behind.

You peer into the glass, looking at all the stuffed animals filling the machine. Your smile widens when you spot the cute little turtle in the back—green and brown, wide eyes, and extra plush and round. Logan leans against the machine, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “Which one are we going for?” He asks. We—you can’t help but replay the word in your head. There’s a “we” in this. You and Logan. 

You point to the turtle in the back row. “We’re going for that one,” you say, and his eyes find the green little thing. “Isn’t he cute?”

He shakes his head, grinning ear to ear, his grumpiness seemingly gone now. “Sure, princess, sure he is.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sound of the familiar pet name. You lean down to put a quarter in the machine, trying your best not to overthink the situation. The crane starts up, whirring to life, giving you three tries to win the stuffy. 

You maneuver the crane to the back row, just above the turtle. “Do you think that’s good?” You ask, looking towards Logan. But he isn’t looking at the machine; he’s looking at you, smirking. “What?” You ask, narrowing your eyes incredulously. 

“You’re cute when you concentrate,” Logan says, his smirk unwavering. You can feel the heat rising to your chest as he peers into the machine. He nods, his eyes finding yours again, changing the subject before you can respond to his comment. “Looks good to me.”

You swallow nervously, pressing the button on the top of the stick, sending the crane down to the stuffy. It grabs the turtle, holding it up. It looks like it’s going to make it, but it falls in the center of the glass box. You groan, annoyed as the crane moves back to position. You try again, bringing the crane to the center of the machine, just above the turtle, and dropping it again. The silver claws grip the plushy, but it’s a bad grab—the turtle slipping right out of its grasp. 

 “Fucking rigged,” you mutter, moving the crane over the turtle for the final time. “This is it,” you say, looking at Logan. He’s suddenly shifting closer to you, standing behind you and pressing his front to your back. His arms rest on either side of the crane machine’s controls, caging you in. 

“Much better view from here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. You’re distracted by how close he is. You can smell him—tobacco and pine and musk. “Let’s see if it works, princess.” This is too much. Far more than you can possibly handle. 

You take a deep breath, your eyes surveying the crane’s distance from the turtle carefully, and you press the button. The crane drops, grabbing the stuffy, and picking it up successfully. “Yes!” You say, looking back at Logan. His face is inches from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your lips. Your noses are so close, brushing together softly. He leans in, lips parted. 

“Game over!” A robotic, automated voice rings out, the crane whirling back into position. It snaps you back to reality, and you look inside the machine. There, off to the side just next to the machine’s drop box, is the turtle. 

“Shit,” you mumble, shoulders slumping with disappointment. You know it’s just a game, and you are an adult after all, but you can’t help the frown that forms across your face. “I really wanted him. I was gonna name him Bernie.”

Logan chuckles. “Bernie?” he asks, and you nod. He’s centimeters away from you again, leaning in. “Don’t sweat the loss, princess. You’re cuter than that little thing is anyw—"

“Look what Kurt and I got with our tickets!” Jubilee is suddenly in front of you, a stuffed, sparkly blue dinosaur in her hand. She’s tugging you away from Logan and across the arcade before you can protest. “You gotta dance with me!” You look back at Logan, who’s standing alone in front of the crane machine, arms tucked against his chest. 

Have fun, he mouths. And good luck. He winks at you as Jubilee whisks you off to Dance Dance Revolution. You let her pick the song, and you struggle through the round, your feet tapping to the beat. You and Jubilee are a laughing mess. You know you look absolutely ridiculous, but it’s fun. 

And yet, your mind still wanders to Logan. You think about how close he was to you, the way his lips practically brushed against yours—the ghost of a kiss. You think about the way he caged you in, pressed against your back. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realize how badly you’re fumbling all the moves; you don’t hear Jubilee calling your name. 

“Hey!” She shouts, finally bringing you back to reality. The round is over; you missed the entire second half of the dance. “Where’d you go just there?” She asks, concern hidden within her smile.  

You look over to the crane machine, expecting to see Logan, but he’s gone. In fact, you can’t find him anywhere. “Sorry Jubes, but I gotta go see about something,” you say, stepping off the platform. 

Your eyes search the arcade. Gambit and Rogue are at the ticket redemption counter, picking out a big stuffed bear. Kurt is fooling around on one of those motorcycle racing games. Storm and Charles are—uncharacteristically—sharing a soft pretzel, while Jean and Scott share a milkshake. Everyone is here and accounted for except Logan. 

That is, until you notice the puff of smoke in the corner of the glass door at the front of the arcade. You smirk, walking towards the entrance and pushing the door open. 

Logan leans against the brick wall of the building, cigar in his mouth. His head turns towards you, and he immediately takes the cigar out, dropping it to the ground and extinguishing it with the heel of his boot. 

“Hi,” you whisper, standing next to him. 

He looks down at you, smiling widely. “Hi.” He’s leaning in again—so close—and a shiver runs up your spine. “Cold?” He asks, shrugging out of his leather jacket before you have a chance to answer. He helps you into the jacket one arm at a time, his eyes drinking you in once it’s on, trailing up and down your body. “Looks good on you,” he hums. “Way better than it does on me.”

You shake your head, letting your shoulder brush against his. You look over at him and suddenly notice something green and round in his hand. “What’s that?” You ask. But you already know. You recognize the little brown spots and the wide eyes. 

Logan smirks, lifting the turtle up. “Couldn’t let you go home without him,” he says, holding it out towards you. 

“No way!” You shout, ignoring the turtle and throwing your arms around Logan’s neck. It’s instinctive, natural. He tugs you in closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Thank you so much,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. “I can’t believe you ended up playing a game at an arcade.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers against your temple. The sudden vulnerability of his words makes your heart tighten in your chest. You stay like that for a while, his lips ghosting your forehead, your chests pressed together. You finally lift your head, looking up at Logan. 

“Lo?” You whisper, and his gaze meets yours, flitting between your eyes and your lips. He drops the plushy onto the bench next to him and walks you back into the brick wall, caging you in, hands on either side of your waist. 

He leans in. “Yeah, pretty girl?” He brings one hand to your hip, gripping gently. “What do you need?”

“Y-you,” you stutter. “I need y—"

His lips swallow your words, fitting against yours like a puzzle piece. The kiss is slow, languid, but you can feel his need in the way he moves against you, hands slipping underneath the borrowed jacket and your shirt to explore your skin. His fingertips drag along your back, relaxing you into his touch. 

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Logan mumbles against your lips. 

Your heart flutters in your chest. “But what about the others?” You ask, nodding to the arcade.

Logan smirks, stealing another kiss. “All the more reason to get back to the mansion before they do.”

“But how are we going to—”

He grips your waist, tugging you towards the parking lot. “I took my bike, pretty girl.”

Oh?

Oh. 

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie

[lavenderspence]

Bump Relief - S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try

Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife? 

A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy! 

masterlist | requests are closed!

Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were. 

He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasn’t focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years. 

But he’d been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.

At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as you’d been in your wedding dress. Or that’s what Spencer saw when he looked at you. 

But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldn’t help but notice too. How you hadn’t been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester. 

Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose. 

He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. He’d watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing he’d been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it. 

Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. He’d been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped. 

He’d wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack. 

He’d been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. You’d heard the heartbeat together, where he’d spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something he’d wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking he’d never get to experience it. 

But that’s as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more. 

He didn’t hear JJ approaching and wasn’t even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again. 

Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though. 

“Yes?” He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts. 

“Where’d you go Spence?” She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” He didn’t look or sound convincing, and watching JJ’s brow arch in question, he sighed, “Well, okay, not everything.” 

“What’s going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?” She asked a frantic worry in her voice.

“They’re good and healthy,” Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as she’d been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through. 

“She’s been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,” He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, “And I see her trying not to show it that much, but it’s clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?” He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow. 

He knew that wasn’t possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldn’t help but worry sometimes. 

“Well, there’s this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.” She started before she shared her little secret.

You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath. 

Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before you’d started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really. 

It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop. 

Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you weren’t even that surprised. You somehow knew that they’d take even more than his height - you hoped they’d inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.

You couldn’t wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly. 

You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked.  

Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes. 

Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didn’t hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasn’t often any cry for attention left you rattled.

You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door. 

“Sweetheart? Where are my girls?” He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. You’d decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad. 

You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, “We’re here, love.”

You didn’t attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over. 

Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.

“Hi.” He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.

“Hi.” You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work. 

“Hi, little love.” It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch. 

With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours. 

“Can you stand up for a second, love?” He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words. 

“Why?” It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there. 

His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too. 

“Just want to try something JJ suggested. Please? It’s going to feel good, I promise.” He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise. 

You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up. 

“If I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?” You bargained with him. You’ve been craving those since last night, but he’d been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe. 

He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down. 

“Okay, sour lemon candy it is.”

“What are we doing again?” 

“Okay, I’m going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,” He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like he’d told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, “Okay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?” Again, soft, in a whisper. 

“What work -” You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his father’s arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved,  thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband. 

“Good?” He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment. 

“So, so good. Thank you.” You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldn’t believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care. 

He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.”

Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.”

He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Not gonna tell me it gets easier?”

He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know.

“I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs.

She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.”

He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back.

“You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

“Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go.

She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.”

He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.”

He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly.

“You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.”

He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.”

“Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.”

Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.”

He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock.

“He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.”

“Madelyn and Daniel?”

She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.”

One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.”

“Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.”

“Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table.

“Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.”

She makes a humming noise.

“C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.”

Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle.

He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.”

“Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.”

He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?”

Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.”

Logan both blushes and preens at the same time.

Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?”

She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.”

He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.”

She laughs, “good gin and tonic?”

He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.”

She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,”

“Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.”

Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.”

“We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts.

“Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused.

“Ah.”

“Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.”

She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases.

The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?”

She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.”

Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.”

“Your work allows you to do that?”

Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.”

“You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.”

“I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious.

“No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.”

“Manager?”

“God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.”

“Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.”

“Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?”

“Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him.

He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice.” She smiles.

Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.”

Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him.

“You seemed a bit more relaxed.”

“No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.”

Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.”

Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?”

He shrugs as best as he can.

“I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.”

“You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs.

Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.”

“What happened?”

“She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.”

Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.”

The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies.

“What?”

“I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.”

“Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar.

“I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.”

Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?”

Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?”

“The one that gave Fred shit.”

“I thought she died?”

The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?”

“Mate, you didn’t hear about that?”

“No!”

“She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.”

“How do I not remember this?”

Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,”

“No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.”

“Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.”

Logan groans, “Os, no.”

“Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.”

“Oscar, please, it’s my mom.”

“She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush.

He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.”

“Lando was looking.”

Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.”

He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.”

“He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns.

“I saw that too.”

“But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?”

Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.”

“Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?”

“I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.”

Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.”

“We all want to age like her.” George agrees.

“What are you saying?” Fernando frowns.

A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.”

Fernando frowns, “Lines?”

Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank.

Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.”

The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck.”

“Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,”

“He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her.

“He did it! He did it!” She cheers.

The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.”

“Got it. Where’s Alex?”

She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.”

Both of her hands fly up to her mouth.

“Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.”

She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.”

“Holy fuck.”

The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes.

“You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.”

She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.”

“Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.”

“I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried.

“You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.”

She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?”

He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.”

“He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her.

His smile widens as he takes the seat.

“I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear.

“I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?”

She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.”

“Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.”

She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?”

“You did.”

“Sweet.”

“Very. How’s the head?”

Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.”

She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.”

“Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it.

She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.”

“True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.”

“I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.”

“Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.”

“I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.”

“Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?”

“It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.”

His brows press together. “Max?”

“Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?”

Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.”

“You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.”

“I go on dates.”

“Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.”

She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists.

“Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?”

“Yes.”

“Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?”

Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,”

Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?”

“Oh.”

Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.”

“I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!”

He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces.

“Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?”

He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press.

“But how are you feeling about it?”

Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.”

He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.”

Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.”

“P10 and P9.”

He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.”

Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.”

“Not yours?”

He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.”

Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?”

Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.”

“Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.”

“And if I go into the wall?”

Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?”

Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.”

“Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.”

Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.”

He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him.

“And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his.

“So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say.

“I’m a mom.”

He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.”

“Logan is important to me.”

Oh, god, did Logan not like him?

“The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.”

“Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?”

She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.”

“I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?”

Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.”

He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.”

“His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right.

“His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?”

“No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.”

She stares at him, lips pressed together.

He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.”

She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?”

“The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears.

“I am his mother, just adopted.”

“Not that either of you see it that way.”

“No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.”

“Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?”

She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.”

“Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.”

“How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch.

“Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun.

Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach.

“What?”

“How was your date last night?”

Her smile widens. “It was good.”

“Yeah?”

She nods.

“Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?”

“No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.”

“About what?”

“Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well.

She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.”

“What about Max?”

She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.”

“You know, I’m okay with it.”

“I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.”

Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.”

Logan flushes at the words.

“He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age.

He flushes even more. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.”

“I am an adult.”

“You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.”

He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?”

She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?”

“Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?”

“First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder.

“Am I late?”

“Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen.

“Can I,”

She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.”

“Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her.

“Logan and you are both going to get on too well.”

“Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“You both don’t like when I lift anything.”

“What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back.

Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.”

“One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.”

“See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head.

“I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.”

Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.”

He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.”

“Are you sure?”

Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage.

The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at.

“Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely.

“Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?”

The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member.

“Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?”

He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.”

“And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases.

“No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.”

“I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.”

“Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.”

“Oh?”

Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.”

Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room.

“Hi, schat.”

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats.

His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.”

“Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask.

“He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.”

Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?”

She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.”

“Anything I can help with?”

She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops.

“Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.”

“Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?”

His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.”

“The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.”

“They have to be not performing well.”

“They’re a rookie in a back marker team.”

“They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about.

“They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.”

His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?”

“Nine.”

“I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.”

She shakes her head.

“Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?”

She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“The driver’s Logan.”

“What?”

“Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.”

Max stares at her. “How?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.”

“He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.”

“It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it.

“Why’s that, honey?”

He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team.

“I guess you are a bit spoiled.”

He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle.

“That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.”

He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more.

“I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.”

She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.”

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends.

“Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder.

“How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner.

She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.”

He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?”

“I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.”

“I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside.

“I know.”

“Logan still wanting to do his new routine.”

She nods, lips pursed.

He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?”

She throws him a look. “Us?”

“You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that.

“Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.”

“Will Logan be joining us for Florida?”

“Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.”

Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,”

“You go to Milton for a day after.”

He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.”

“Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.”

“Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.”

“Yes?”

“Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend.

He freezes.

“Max.”

“I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

[yanderelovebites]

Been seeing a lot of neglected batsis fics but may I say?

Imagine if Thomas and Martha Wayne’s ghosts are also looking out for neglected reader not just Alfred. It’s even better if batsis can see them. Just imagine the impact one day if batsis started wearing makeup in a way Martha did, maybe styles her hair like hers too because ghost Martha teaches them how to be a lady.

Bonus points if batsis is another biological kid to Bruce. The shame the couple feel when Bruce neglects her.

They get annoyed with Damian the most because that’s his sister, what the hell was he thinking? Imagining Martha ghost blows the card Bruce set to the side on Father’s Day right in his face XD

I could make a list of scenarios of ghost grandparents being good grandparents for batsis. Imagine one time Batsis asked to do something with Tim and Tim rejects her rudely so Thomas makes his computer short-circuit.

Martha would cut his phone off. Weirdly it works JUST FINE when off the property.

Thomas hides Damian’s katana because he used it on batsis. They can’t find it for weeks until Alfred goes up to the attic and there it is in a box labeled ‘Disappointment’. They freeze dick next time he visits for not keeping a promise… the list could go on.

Meanwhile batsis is taking a business course because Thomas insisted, completely unbothered.

Imagine they forget her birthday and they for the next week ruin any cake that comes in the house.

And when they do their turn around imagine they lock the door of whoever locked batsis’s room last until next meal time. Nothing works to let them out. NOTHING. Oh they told her she couldn’t have friends? Oh look your window is wide open and they just made them all go to sleep.

Just some thoughts :3

[always-just-red]

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

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

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.  

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

[hannieehaee]

MAIN THING

18+ / mdi

summary: after years of insistence from soonyoung, he finally convinces resident social butterfly seungkwan to introduce him to his unrequited crush; a fellow idol at hybe who he has not been able to take his eyes off since moving to the company.

content: idol!hoshi x idol!reader, simp!hoshi, he's down horribly bad, seungkwan is fed up with hoshi, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 11k

a/n: finally wrote a long hoshi fic everyone cheer

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Just introduce me to her. Please," whined Soonyoung for the nth time that week.

"I already said no! Just go talk to her yourself like a normal person," rebutted Seungkwan, attempting but failing at disregarding his insistent friend.

"He can't do that. Last time they made eye contact he ran to hide behind Mingyu," snickered Jeonghan, invested in this conversation whenever it was brought up.

"I just need you to get the ball rolling. Please, Kwan-ah," he pleaded as he got up in Seungkwan's personal space – a thing everyone knew not to do.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "She already knows who you are, you know. There's no need to introduce you," he muttered under his breath.

"Wait, what. She does? Like knows knows me? Or just knows of Hoshi of Seventeen?", his eyes widened in shock, grabbing onto Seungkwan's shoulders to get his full attention.

"She knows Kwon Soonyoung, dumbass. She's one of my closest friends, why wouldn't she know of you?", he grumbled, attempting to shake off his friend.

Soonyoung sighed at the short-lived hope he had of you having maybe taken an interest to him and brought him up in conversation with Seungkwan, just to have confirmation (yet again) of you simply knowing him as Seungkwan's groupmate.

It had been two, no, three years since Soonyoung had first developed a special interest in you. Thinking back to when Pledis was first acquired by Hybe, Soonyoung still remembered the first time he saw you in person very vividly.

Instantly, he developed a crush on you from the very first glance, only falling further any time you'd cross paths in the building.

He had known of your existence before that, of course, but had never truly acknowledged his obvious crush on you until he first met you in person.

Unfortunately for Soonyoung, he was far too shy and introverted to ever actually engage in conversation with you, much less slide his way into your life the way Seungkwan so easily had – Seungkwan, who had become one of your closest friends. On the contrary, Soonyoung would actively go out of his way to avoid you, never even so much as making eye contact whenever Seungkwan would bring you around.

It was easy for him to become the mockery of the members due to this. Leave it to him to have his years-long crush become best friends with one of his best friends, leading him to your constant, nerve-wracking proximity.

At some point he decided that maybe he should break out of his shell – the shell he had created specifically to shield himself from his feelings for you. He decided that instead of avoiding you, he'd do the next best thing ... which was to ask Seungkwan to officially re-introduce you to each other.

You were blissfully unaware of Soonyoung's crush, he knew that much. Did you know of his existence? Barely, as you'd only interacted a handful of times, with those always being brief and impersonal interactions. This gave Soonyoung the perfect opportunity to start brand new with you. Except he'd need the help of his most extroverted friend, who just so happened to be your best friend.

After begging Seungkwan to please work his social butterfly magic on him, he found himself unsuccessful. Seungkwan would merely scoff and tell him to grow up, leading Soonyoung to be mocked by one of the other eleven members, and then the cycle would repeat. Currently, it was Jeonghan's turn to snicker at Soonyoung's misery, it seemed.

Taking note of Soonyoung's pouty lips and saddened demeanor, Jeonghan took pity on him and clapped his hands decisively before speaking up again.

"Okay, how about you let Hoshining here take your place in doing the TikTok challenge for maestro with Y/N? If they hit it off, then you've done your due diligence, and if not, Soonie can just go get fucked. Everybody wins," he suggested as he shrugged at Seungkwan.

Soonyoung lit up at this, choosing to completely disregard the last two sentences of his suggestion. This was more than enough for him to get the ball rolling.

Immediately joining in on the plan, he turned to Seungkwan once more, ready to beg again.

"Don't say anything," Seungkwan shushed him with a lift of his finger, opposite hand now digging into his temple in what Soonyoung hoped to simply be exaggerated annoyance, "I'll do it, just, please grant me twenty minutes of silence," he pleaded.

That worked well enough for Soonyoung.

"Okay, fuck, I don't think I can do this."

"Are you fucking kidding me?", Seungkwan practically growled.

"What he means is that he's a little nervous. Right, Soonie?," Jeonghan tried to alleviate, standing behind Hoshi and rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him.

"You've been begging for this for weeks. I already told Y/N you'd be meeting her at her group's floor. You're doing this," huffed Seungkwan, not truly angry but just easily riled up by his friend's needless anxieties.

"I know! I'll do it, just- I need to hype myself up for it," he took a deep breath.

"C'mon, Soonie. You look great, all you have to do is go up to her and impress her with your dancing. Your natural chemistry will do the rest," reassured Joshua, who had been let in on the situation by Jeonghan just a few days prior.

Although most of the members were well aware of Soonyoung's embarrassing crush on you, not all of them truly took an interest. Jeonghan and Joshua seemed to want to keep informed simply for entertainment purposes. Soonyoung didn't care as long as they helped ease his nerves somehow. He needed all the support he could get as he attempted to calm himself down enough to go face the love of his life (How he got to that conclusion, he was unsure, but the label felt right at the moment).

After about twenty more minutes of annoyed groans from Seungkwan and occasional breakdowns from Soonyoung, the four boys finally made their way to your floor, with Soonyoung's members joining in just for emotional support, or maybe to mock his nerves from afar.

Spotting you as you leaned against the wall next to your practice room, Soonyoung gulped, blinking rapidly to make sure the sight was correct. You weren't even wearing anything out of the ordinary, yet Soonyoung was enamored by how pretty you looked in your usual rehearsal attire. He could picture you lounging around his house in a similarly comfortable outfit, maybe waking up early to make breakfast as he came up to you and pressed up against you, breathing in your shampoo and-

"Soonyoung! Go!," whisper-yelled Seungkwan after a few moments of Soonyoung freezing in the hallway, letting his imagination take over for too long.

"C'mon, go say hi, Soonie," said Hannie, seemingly sincere in his encouragement.

You hadn't spotted him yet, seeing as they had barely entered the long hallway and you were standing on the opposite end. However, just a few steps and the sound of his footsteps would likely catch your attention. The thought made him sweat. Despite having briefly interacted with you before, he just couldn't imagine a one-on-one with you. He knew for a fact that he'd crash and burn the moment you shared a smile with him.

It was too late now, though. He was already moving towards you, creating a distance between him and his members while decreasing the distance between you and him. That was when you heard him coming, turning to face him and immediately offering him a smile, waving him over to you.

It was obvious to Soonyoung how you and Seungkwan had become friends so easily. You were both so friendly and outgoing, welcoming anyone who'd come your way.

"Hey, Soonyoung-Ssi. I was waiting for you," you smiled, meeting him halfway through the hallway.

With an awkward smile, he gave you a light bow, which you returned. His hand went up to rub at the back of his neck right after, an easy tell of his nerves, "Hah, sorry for keeping you waiting, I, uh, just lost track of time."

That was believable enough. He was known to lose track of things quite often. Sometimes even getting lost himself. However, he did not want to give a bad impression, so he felt slightly bad despite your demeanor not expressing any disappointment.

"That's fine, don't worry about it," you reassured him before peaking behind him into the length of the hallway, "Uh, why are your members crowding by the elevator?", you chuckled.

Fuck, were they still back there? They were supposed to drop him off and leave right after.

"Oh, they're just-"

"Hey, Kwannie! Guys! Come over here!", you called out to them in your usual friendly demeanor, turning back to face him afterwards, "The fans would love it if we all do it together," you smiled at him, clearly unaware that Soonyoung had meant to get you alone.

And that's how his plan got ruined within less than a minute of alone time with you.

"Oh, uh, yeah, for sure," he mustered a smile at you – which was mostly genuine, as he couldn't help himself in smiling when you were so likable.

The guys looked thrown off by you calling them over, but followed through with your direction regardless. In only a few moments you were all inside your group's designated practice room as you propped up the staff-assigned phone and turned on the speakers in order to learn the short dance.

"So, who wants to help me with the dance?", you asked.

"I, uh-"

"Hoshi's an amazing teacher. He can show it to you!", interrupted Jeonghan before Soonyoung could stammer his way through an answer.

Being practically pushed towards you by both Joshua and Jeonghan, he awkwardly stepped forward, dumbly lifting a hand to uselessly wave at you shyly as he nodded.

You giggled(?) at this, scrunching up your face in what he believed to be cuteness(???), nodding at him in return.

"Yeah, we actually gotta go. We have a shoot coming up. We were just dropping Soonie off," said Jeonghan again, lying through his teeth.

Soonyoung knew that Jeonghan's original plan had been to spy on him as he fumbled his way through interacting with you, but since you'd spotted them, now Jeonghan had to come up with an excuse to leave Soonyoung alone with you. At least he was following through in wing-manning him.

Pouting, you okay'd Jeonghan and Joshua's departure, bidding goodbye to the two boys whom Soonyoung knew you considered to be friends of yours (unlike himself), leaving you alone with Kwannie and Soonyoung.

Seeing as Seungkwan was your best friend, it was unlikely you'd buy any excuse he had to leave you alone with Soonyoung without him having to at least allude the boy's embarrassing crush on you, – something that was completely out of limits – so now Soonyoung was stuck with a chaperone for his interaction with you. It wasn't what he was expecting, but it also took some pressure off him. Kwannie was a natural mood-maker.

After a few minutes of warming up together, Kwannie gestured at you to get into positions so Soonyoung could show you the dance, with Kwan following along in order to help your learning process quicken.

You got the majority of it pretty quickly – or at least for the most part. There was one complicated part of the footwork you seemed to be having a bit of complications with, causing Seungkwan to intervene.

"Hoshi, why don't you help her out? Come here," he gave Hoshi a look, eyes gesturing at him to come stand by your side.

Dumbly, he followed along, never in the state of mind to deny you (nor Seungkwan, apparently). With a nod of confirmation from you, he stood right by your side, slowing down his movements in order to break down the moves required for the dance.

You audibly awe'd at him and his skill, making him blush and look down, not wanting you to see his reddened face. Seungkwan snorted lowly in the background, something you luckily were too distracted to pay mind to, too into Soonyoung's dancing to notice.

"Uh, did you get that or should I go slower?", he asked after the fact.

"No, that's perfect, Soonyoung-Ssi, thank you," you gave him a casual bow of your head, "Wow, you're insanely good. Sorry if that's too informal to say," you praised him, not realizing such compliment would take him all the way to another universe.

"Ah, no, it's nothing, hah-"

"No, really! You should be a teacher. I think I got it all now. Look," you insisted, stopping to do a quick run-through of the 15-second dance in absolute perfection (at least if Soonyoung had anything to say about it), giggling by the end of it.

Seungkwan interrupted once more before Soonyoung could shower you with compliments over your dancing, "You know, he comes up with a lot of our choreos. He teaches us them, too."

Seungkwan hyping him up to you was very out of character, but Soonyoung was willing to take anything that could get you the tiniest bit interested in him. And it seemed like it worked, as you audibly gasped at that bit of information, turning to compliment him once more.

"Really? Wow, that's insane. Can I- You should show me sometime," you suggested, "I try to help with the creative process of my group's choreos sometimes, but it all gets meddled in my head. I could really use some pointers."

Soonyoung would be willing to make entire choreos for you on his own if you so much as asked, so of course he'd jump at the chance to help you with anything you needed. If you wanted him to cut his day short right this moment and drop everything to help you out, he'd do it without a second thought. Any motive to spend time with you one-on-one sounded more than reasonable to him.

"Yes, o-of course," he nodded enthusiastically while Seungkwan made a face in the background.

The next twenty minutes or so were spent recording the short video, attempting to get a perfect take in order to hand over to staff for posting. You stood in the middle while the two boys danced next to you. Hoshi was smiling like an idiot all throughout as he thought of the concept of the two of you dancing together on video. Maybe after this it could become a more common occurrence.

"Well, I'm gonna go now," said Seungkwan after it was all said and done, having settled on one of the many recordings you'd taken, "Gotta go have lunch with Gyu. I'll see you later Y/Nie," he gave you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek as goodbye. Hoshi hoped his jealous grimace wasn't noticed by you.

You furrowed your brows at his sudden departure, but made no comment about it otherwise.

"Okay, Kwannie. Call me later tonight?"

"Sure," he agreed, then turning to Soonyoung, "Send me some of those videos," he said as one last statement before leaving.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, "Send me them too? Here, I'll give you my KakaoTalk," you reached out your hand to silently ask him to hand you his phone as you walked over to his side.

Fuck. Your number? He was going to have your personal contact info on his phone?

Granted, he could've just asked Seungkwan or one of the other guys for your number, but he wanted to get it out of your own volition. And now he was currently standing next to you, faces far too close as you both leaned down to look at his phone screen watching you type in your info. He could've sworn you leaned even closer when you heard him gulp, but it was probably just wishful thinking.

"Here," you said when you were finally done, handing him his phone back – and gracing his hand with your own in the process, a detail Soonyoung found extremely important to fixate on.

He thanked you with a nod, putting the phone away and wracking his brain to think of anything he could possibly say to extend your time together. With Seungkwan around, he hadn't even had the chance to talk to you at all.

"Hey," you spoke up before he could, "We're announcing our comeback next week- oh, uh, don't tell anyone, by the way," you giggled at your own interjection, "Do you think maybe you'd like to do our choreo with me for a TikTok?", you asked, "You know, just the two of us?"

The last question really threw him off guard. But what threw him off guard even more was the look you gave him afterward. Your eyebrows were lifted and your front teeth were softly biting onto the plush of your bottom lip. It was suggestive, but not too obvious. Soonyoung was unsure of how to read it, but considering the fact that he was already head over heels for you, the mere implication of your gaze on him had his heart accelerating and his head inflating like a balloon.

"O-oh, yes. I- Yes. We can totally do that," he agreed far too enthusiastically, "You can just call me- or- or text me, if that's better for you," he stammered.

You bit your lip again, but this time it was to try and fail to hold in a giggle. Nodding at him, you thanked him, letting him know you'd be contacting him soon.

"Let me know when the TikTok gets posted, okay?", you said afterwards.

"It'll probably get posted today or tomorrow. You'll see it on the official account-"

You interrupted him, "Text me either way, yeah?", you spoke again, now in a slightly more direct way, giving him a look that made him realize you were conveying some sort of hint to him.

He wasn't sure what you meant by this, but he nodded dumbly at you, not willing to pass up an opportunity to talk to you again. This was when the two of you finally bid your goodbyes, with you catching him off guard by offering him a quick hug before walking him out of your practice room.

Slightly dumbfounded, Soonyoung slowly walked away, heading towards the elevator through which he'd come in less than thirty minutes ago, trying to process what'd happened during the last five minutes of his visit.

Sometimes he hated how easy it was for things to fly over his head, but there was just absolutely no way you'd been flirting with him just now, was there? You were friendly, as you always were, but the very subtle looks and the suggestion of texting each other – and even hanging out alone next time – gave him the tiniest of hopes that maybe you'd taken an interest to him.

He decided to shrug this off for now, entirely too sure that there'd be no way for you to flirt with him, much less like him when he was always such a stammering mess around you.

Within a day, the TikTok had been posted, garnering excited reactions from fans who enjoyed both of your groups. Unlike the endless times before, you had not done the dance challenge with Seungkwan but also with Hoshi, causing a bit of extra excitement among both of your fans. This made Soonyoung giddier than he'd like to admit. Knowing your fans enjoyed seeing you together made him smile far too hard.

As promised, he knew he had to text you about the TikTok. It was likely you'd already seen it, as it'd already been a few hours since its release. However, Soonyoung was not about to miss the opportunity to start a thread of communication with you. This would be the first step to consistent communication with you (or so he hoped).

After mulling over it for a few hours, he landed on a simple text, one that did not showcase his excitement to be speaking to you – Jeonghan had said that that might scare you away – but simply informed you of the release of the TikTok.

hey, it's hoshi :)

the video got posted on seventeen's official account. the fans really like it ㅋㅋ here's the link

[TikTok link]

Surprisingly, you had responded quite quickly, making Soonyoung somehow fall even more enamored with you by the way you texted.

thank uuu hoshi nim !!!!

we look so good omg :D

i'll let u know when we can do my group's tiktok okay ? ill see u soon !!! <3

It'd be odd for any other guy to sigh so adoringly at their phone at such simple messages, but none of the guys gave him too much shit for how often he stared at your messages with awe in his eyes. You just sounded so enthusiastic to speak to him, and- Okay, he knew he was overthinking it. You were probably just someone who conveyed their emotions through text (he was too!!!). He just liked knowing that he was now somewhere in your KakaoTalk, ready for any time you wanted to message him. And that heart? He was swooning over the simple gesture, but that was something he couldn't get to without going on ten different tangents about how much he liked you (His friends had already heard them all).

~

"Oh, really? She wants to see you again?", asked Seungkwan later that same day upon hearing that you'd asked Soonyoung to meet later on to record alone.

It was the usual time for dance practice, though currently it was just a few of the members in the practice room as they waited for the rest to show up. These moments would usually be taken up by life updates on each other or by a few overly-competitive rounds of badminton.

"Hold on. Y/N?," asked Chan who just happened to be walking in, "Congrats, man. You've been crushing on her since forever," he gave him a pat on the back in encouragement, joining in on the conversation.

Seungkwan pouted to himself, "She asked you? She always asks me," he didn't seem actually sad, but just whiny as usual.

"C'mon, Kwannie. Give them some time alone. It's young love," interjected Jeonghan, always the proudly designated Soonyoung-supporter.

"Hah," Soonyoung chuckled shyly, looking down, "It's nothing. It's not like I asked her out or anything," he added.

"Well, this is your chance," encouraged Joshua, who had previously been toying with a racket to offer up a round of badminton to the guys, "She gave you her number completely unprovoked. You just need to open up a bit and let her get to know you."

It was all good advice. Great, even. Except that Soonyoung was an anomaly of a guy. Despite how outgoing he seemed to everyone around him (even his fans), he was actually quite shy and reserved when it came to people he wasn't familiar with. You being someone he didn't know too personally and his years-long crush simply did not help matters.

"Yeah, I'll try, just- Fuck, she makes me so nervous. I don't wanna be too obvious," he expressed one of his many concerns.

"Too late," Seungkwan murmured lowly, looking away to act as if he hadn't said anything.

"What do you mean ...," asked Soonyoung with widened eyes.

"Dude, you kept staring at her the whole time we were dancing. And every time she tried to speak to you, you stumbled over your words like an idiot. If she didn't clock that you liked her in those twenty minutes, then she's an idiot – and I'm saying this as her best friend," rambled Seungkwan, letting his friend in on how his interaction with you looked from a third person's point of view.

Soonyoung liked to think that he had enough self-awareness to assess how he was perceived by others. Realistically, however, he knew he lacked the skill to hold in his emotions like the average person. He had fears of being too obvious whilst in your presence, so knowing that he had been too blatantly enamored by you made him cringe internally. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of you.

"Fuck, does she-"

"No, I don't think she actually knows. She probably just thinks you're a weirdo," reassured Seungkwan with a sigh, "But isn't that the goal? I mean, for her to know you like her?"

"Yeah, but I have to swoop her off her feet, not make her think I'm some loser who's obsessed with her – I mean, I am, but she doesn't need to know that yet," Soonyoung rambled exasperated.

Joshua, Jeonghan and Chan snickered all at once, finding their friend's ridiculous thought process to be far too funny. As much as they were rooting for him to finally ask you out, watching his strange way of coursing through his crush was something they treasured as a form of entertainment and would be sad to let go off anywhere in the near future. But despite that, they continued their encouragement to get the boy to finally get your sights on him.

"So, what's your plan? Other than pestering me to get her to hang out with you – which, by the way, clearly didn't work," deadpanned Seungkwan.

"I'm just waiting for her to call me so we can do her TikTok challenge. Fuck, should I text her first?", he pondered out loud.

"She told me her comeback's this Friday, but her music video's already out" added Chan, making them all turn to him in question.

"You talk?", whined Hoshi.

Chan nodded slowly as if it were the most obvious thing, "Yeah, we're friends."

Joshua and Jeonghan cackled like hyenas at this, finding Soonyoung's shocked facial expression adorable.

"Am I the only one she's not friends with?!"

"Maybe if you hadn't actively avoided her for years-"

"I didn't mean to! I'm just shy!", he complained, hands lifted as he sighed in frustration, "But no longer! I'm texting her tonight, okay? Next time you see me, I'll be on my way to a situationship – or if luck goes my way, a relationship," he assured.

"Really? Are twenty minutes spent dancing going to make her fall for you? You already tried that, and it failed," deadpanned Seungkwan, "But, I'm rooting for you. Maybe this way you'll finally leave me alone."

That was good enough.

"Any pointers?", asked Soonyoung, "Any intel you guys can give me since you're apparently all part of the 'fuck Soonyoung' club?"

"Just don't do anything stupid," said Seungkwan, all the other boys nodding along.

That was easy enough.

It was one day later that Soonyoung received a text from you, entailing the time and place in which you'd be needing his presence to record a short TikTok video for your group's newest comeback. As luck may have had it, since your comebacks were so close together, you were attending a music show on the same day. This meant that Seventeen would perform right after your group.

The plan was to meet in the backroom in between shootings, just before your group left to their next schedule of the day. Even if it meant that Soonyoung would get no time to prepare for his own performance, he was confident enough he didn't need the extra practice – plus, meeting up with you took priority in his mind.

On the day of the comeback show, Soonyoung felt nerves he hadn't experienced in years. He had prepared for you as much as he could, taking time out of his day to practice your choreo as soon as your group's music video came out in preparation for your meeting. Dumbly enough, he didn't bother to ask you which part you needed for your TikTok, opting to learn the whole thing instead. He had also asked his stylist to go a little extra hard with his hair and makeup (the thought made him feel like a teenager, but he just wanted to look extra good for you).

It was only some time upon his arrival to the venue that he received a text from you asking for his presence.

meet me in the back ? ;)

The blush that arose from his cheeks couldn't be helped.

The two of you had only texted a handful of times since you'd first given him your number a few days ago, but he always found himself blushing and kicking his feet when you'd text him using your adorable emojis. In his delusional mind, he was the only one you sent those cute hearts and smileys to.

With a nervous intake of breath, Soonyoung walked over to the back of the building – an area idols would sometimes visit for a smoke or to hang out behind anyone's view (even staff). He looked around, finding you leaning against the stairs as you waited for him.

You were still wearing that pretty outfit you had worn during your group's performance (which soonyoung made sure to watch as soon as he arrived). It was adorable, but also dangerous for someone like Hoshi. Donning a cute set that consisted of a pink cropped top with a matching fluffy mini-skirt, your look made Soonyoung almost salivate. You were the perfect mixture of adorable and sexy, reminding him all over again why he had first developed a crush on you (that, and the million other reasons).

Upon spotting him, your face lit up, walking over to him with pep in your step, clearly excited to see him (God, take him now).

"Hoshi-Nim!", you called out excitedly, rushing over to his side and offering him a side hug (Fuck).

Hesitantly returning it, he gave you a shy smile and looked down, too timid to hold eye contact for too long. Noticing this, you giggled.

"Is this a bad time, or do you need to go-"

"No! Seventeen's performance isn't until twenty minutes, so I'm good," he interrupted.

"Okay, great. Uh, do you think you'll be able to learn the dance in that time?"

"Oh, I already learned it," he said surprisingly nonchalantly.

"Huh? What? Like, the whole thing?", you asked incredulously.

Scratching the back of his neck in bashfulness, he nodded, "Yeah, uh, just wanted to save you the trouble?", he chuckled breathlessly.

Your eyes widened as did your smile, furrowing your eyebrows at the unnecessary (but highly admirable) amount of effort Hoshi had put into the basic concept of learning what was supposed to be a short TikTok dance for you.

"God, you learned my whole choreo while doing your group's own comeback? That's ... Wow, that's insane, Hoshi-Nim," you praised in disbelief, "You really didn't have to do that."

Soonyoung couldn't lie. He was reeling at the praise. You seemed both surprised and impressed, which were both reactions he wished to draw out of you more often. Sadly, he felt overwhelmed by the attention you were giving him, so the most response he could give you were shy nods and bashful smiles.

Suddenly, you spoke up again, "Actually, Hoshi-Nim, I, uh, I need help with something else, if that's okay?", you looked up at him with a shy smile, reaching out for his hand.

He nodded numbly, surprised at the request for his hand but knowing he'd agree to anything you asked without even needing to know what it was.

Grabbing his hand, you turned around and began leading him somewhere, "It'll just take a moment, I promise. Just ... just really need your help," you sounded breathless, leading him to believe this must've been far more important than the dance. This made Soonyoung the more willing to help you.

Before arriving to your destination, you hesitantly looked back at him as you both walked over to a closed door, Hoshi unknowing of what you needed from him. It appeared as if you were in distress, pondering about something, but saying nothing to him.

Leading him to a small and empty waiting room in the back, you pulled him in, closing the door behind you before turning to him. Before he could verbalize his curiosity, you jumped at him, pulling him down as you stood on your tippy toes and connected your lips in a frantic kiss.

His hair was grabbed at and pulled at in ways that had his eyes rolling. His tongue was sucked at and lips were nibbled at, pulling breathy whines out of him. The quickness in which he fell into the kiss was a bit ridiculous, not even bothering to question what was happening before whining into your mouth and enclosing his arms around you, pulling you even closer.

Pathetic breaths of your name escaped his lips and entered yours. He found himself unable to stop himself from following your every whim, molding his body to your own as you pulled him closer and took all you needed from his lips.

His mind could not process what was happening, so he let his body take the wheel and seek every bit of pleasure he could from yours. His hands were too timid to feel you up the way his body ached to, so he simply let them lay limp on your hips, squeezing any time your kiss became particularly nasty that he couldn't help but react.

Suddenly you began pulling away, pulling a high-pitched whine from his lips as he attempted to follow you, breathing out a tiny 'please' when your tongue came out to give his lips one last swipe.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I-", you began, "I just- Was that too much? Fuck, I should've asked-"

He shook his head almost aggressively, "N-no, you can do whatever you want! That's- It's totally fine. You don't have to ask, just- Fuck, never ask."

Your hands went up to caress at his cheeks, distress still in your eyes, "I just- I know that you like me, and I just couldn't hold back anymore," you gulped, "You're just so sweet and, shit, the fact that you like me so much makes me- God, I can't think," you rambled.

"You ... you knew? I- How? Did I- Was I so obvious?", he gaped at you, though did not react too much as he did not want to cause you to take your hands off him (He needed your hands on him).

You giggled a bit, "Well, yes, and, uh," you winced in anticipation for your next statement, "Kwannie might've let it slip while we were drunk a few months ago ..."

"He what?!"

"He didn't realize! I don't think he even knows he did it," you defended your friend, "Plus, it's a good thing, since, you know," you smiled at him, hands going from his cheeks to the back of his head, toying with the hair there, "Now I can have some fun with you ..."

The atmosphere changed entirely for Hoshi when you said those words. The lust was back in your eyes and he completely mirrored it – though a little more sheepishly.

"Oh, I ..." he chuckled shyly, "You ... Fuck, you want to have fun with me?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

"W-what type of fun?", he blinked, breathless.

"Can I show you?"

"Fuck, p-please ..."

Your proud smile was the last thing he saw before you closed the gap once more, trapping his lips in another heady kiss. Bonelessly, he followed your rhythm, though in a much more timid manner. While your hands felt and pulled at every inch they liked, his own remained respectfully on your hips. Despite how much his carnal side wanted to take over, he was in such absolute awe of you he couldn't bring himself to think straight and act.

Luckily for him, you were far more proactive than him.

Grabbing onto his rigid hands, you led them down to your ass, encouraging him to feel you up as you had been doing to his chest and hair. At this, he moaned into your mouth, hands now achieving a newfound confidence, beginning to feel you up all over. His hands went over and under your fluffy skirt, occasionally going up to squeeze at your breasts. His actions were rewarded by breathy sighs of his name into his lips, something which he had only ever dreamed about before.

"Soonie ...", you breathed against his mouth, "Is it okay if I call you that? Soonie?"

"Call me anything you want, just- don't stop kissing me," he groaned, making a beeline right back to your lips.

"But ..." you barely managed to get out as his lips chased your own needily, "I wanna- wanna suck your dick," you moaned.

Fuck.

His brain stopped computing for a moment. His heart stopped and his knees buckled. No part of his being worked accordingly as he attempted to process a visual of what you'd just said.

You on your knees, his dick in mouth?

It was borderline pathetic the way in which he moaned into your lips, attacking you with a wet and wanton kiss that could barely meet your lips as he nodded desperately and panted a chorus of 'yesyesyesyesyes' into your mouth.

You found him entertaining, or so it seemed going by your giggle in response before dropping down to your knees. Undoing his performance outfit, you pulled down his pants just enough, only to find an achingly hard cock.

"Just from kissing?" you teased with another wicked giggle as you began to put him in hand.

"I'm so fucking obsessed with you," he whined without thinking, "I'd get hard from you just looking at me."

Soonyoung could feel the shudder that passed through your body at his words.

Oh. You liked his desperation? His pathetic want for you? Luckily for you, Soonyoung had an endless amount of desperation ready to feed you with.

"Tell me more," you said before tilting his cock towards your mouth, beginning to teasingly kitten-lick at the tip.

Now it was his turn to shudder, visibly shaking at the barely-there contact.

"You- you're so fucking perfect ..." he breathed as you continued to lick at him, "I think about you all the time, I- Just have you on my mind every day," he revealed.

"And what do you think about?", you pondered out loud, "This?", you asked before enveloping him in your lips, suckling at the tip of his cock.

"T- think, f-fuck- Think about how pretty you are ... How talented and funny, and- and how much I wanna impress you," he panted out truthfully, whining when he turned to look down at you and found your drooling face staring back up at him as your eyebrows scrunched up in effort.

The sight only made him cry out harder, churning out even more embarrassing confessions.

"A-and I think about how h-happy I could make you ... I'd give you everything and ... and I'd make you feel so fucking good ..." he panted out.

You only went deeper on his cock at the slight allusion, gagging around him with purpose in your eyes. His strangled gasp in response caused you to repeat this movement repeatedly as your hands went up to toy at his balls, stimulating him far too much for a guy who had stupidly assumed all he'd be doing with you today would be dancing.

"Please ... please, can I cum? I need- need to cum. Can't hold it back, y-you're so fucking pretty," his hands wrapped even harder around your hair, destroying the well-crafted hairdo your stylists must've taken an hour orchestrating.

Finally pulling away for air, you gasped to take in as much air as possible before licking at him again in order to slowly regain your breath.

"Just one more minute, Soonie? Be good and wait, yeah?," you murmured, "Tell me what else you've been thinking about, baby. Then I'll let you cum," you requested before wrapping your lips around him again.

Nodding with an empty head, he did as you instructed, wanting nothing more than to cum (even though it was embarrassingly fast).

"Thin-think about how fucking sexy you look on stage, how ... how confident a-and sure of yourself you are ... N-no one's ever made me feel this way. So nervous when you're around. Can't think, can't breathe, can't- oh, oh, fuck. Please, I- F-fuck ..." his rambles detailing his infatuation were halted by your sudden increase of speed in movements, causing his orgasm to break through without any warning.

Soonyoung had no time to feel embarrassed over how little he'd lasted with your mouth around his dick when you'd so enthusiastically continued to suck at him throughout his orgasm, humming at every drop you swallowed.

Crying out in sensitivity (both at the feeling and sight), Soonyoung's teary eyes met your own, sniffling as you finally pulled yourself away from him and stood up to attempt and meet his height again. Wordlessly, you wiped at the few lone tears that strayed away due to the suden impact of his orgasm, kissing him softly as you did so.

He wantonly licked into your mouth, whining when he was able to taste himself in your tongue. Continuing to kiss you, he chased after your lips when you attempted to pull away multiple times, causing you both to chuckle breathlessly at each other.

"Was that what you hoped when you thought about me?", you asked whilst biting back a smile.

Nodding enthusiastically, he agreed, "That was perfect- you're perfect."

"Sorry if that was too much, I just-"

His hands went to hold at your arms, halting your speech, "No! Never apologize. You can do whatever you want to me. Always. Trust me," he insisted with a serious yet air-headed look in his eyes.

Giggling, you gave up on apologizing for having jumped him so suddenly just minutes ago.

"Wait, fuck!", he suddenly let out, "I have to be on stage in like five minutes. Shit, I need my hair redone and- oh, wait, we didn't get to do your TikTok. Do you wanna-"

"No, it's okay, Soonyoung. Go get ready. We can just meet up later for the video, okay?," you reassured him, leading him out of the room you'd cornered him in and beginning to walk towards where he needed to be, with you having to push him along, as he was too distracted.

"Yeah, okay. Great," he began walking away from you before turning back, "Can- Can I call you? Later, I mean?", he cringed internally at how not smooth that was.

You giggled at him again, nodding, "Yes, Soonyoung. You can call me any time. Good luck with your stage," you took a few steps and planted a kiss on his cheek, finally walking away for real after that.

Leaving a wordless Soonyoung behind, he finally began processing what had just happened, gulping at the thought.

Had he really just hooked up with you in a lone room buried in the basement floor of Inkigayo?

Had he really confessed to his crush whilst she knelt before him, cock in mouth and watery eyes staring up at him?

Fuck, how was he supposed to perform now?

"No way."

"You're lying. There's literally no way that happened."

"She let you hit?!"

"Well, uh, not exactly," Soonyoung scratched the back of his head awkwardly at all the attention he was suddenly receiving from his friends.

As the loudmouth he was known to be, he had made the mistake of airing out what had happened between the two of you earlier that day. After a few takes of their comeback performance, his group and staff headed back to Hybe, where Soonyoung and some of his members arrived to practice.

Although Soonyoung had not shared the explicit details of what had happened, – nor had he meant to in the first place – he had made the mistake of implied that you had done something. Okay, yeah, maybe he did use the word 'hooked up' without realizing the implications it could have. Could he be blamed? He was still on a high from you even giving him the time of day!

"What happened, exactly?", asked Seungkwan with a groan. Two minutes into the conversation and he was already fed up of Soonyoung. The usual.

"I'm not sure if I should say," he started.

No part of him wanted to air you out for any promiscuous activities you may take part in – even if they had been with him. He also did not want to disrespect your trust. Seungkwan was your best friend, though, so he'd know eventually. Right?

"Dude, just spit it out!", demanded Seokmin, yet another member who had been let in on the situation at some point.

"We kissed ... and uh, other things ... maybe," he added after a pause, almost unable to hide his sheepish smile at the memory.

Jeonghan was the first to react, followed by Joshua. Both their eyes widened as they approached Soonyoung to dap him up, hyping him for his accomplishment.

"Okay, no more details, please. I don't want to think about my best friend in that way," cringed Seungkwan, still offering Soonyoung a congratulatory pat in the back whilst sporting a disgusted grimace.

"And then what happened?", asked Chan, cocking his head to the side.

"Then I had to leave to perform."

Then there was a short pause.

"Dude!"

"Are you serious?"

"You just left??"

They all took turns in shifting the atmosphere to one of annoyance rather than congratulating him like they had just been doing.

"She told me to leave," he clarified quickly, "Fuck, should I call her? I said I would. What should I say? What do you say after your crush sucks the life out of you in a basement? Shit, should I have stopped her?", he rambled with questions, a worried look in his eye.

"First of all, chill," started Seungkwan, "second of all, if she did it, it was because she wanted to. I know her, she would've told you to fuck off if she didn't like you. Just be a man, for once, and call her," he reprimanded.

"Fuck, okay, yeah. I'll call her – now. I'll call her right now," he nodded decisively, beginning to gather his things to leave, "Uh, you guys can practice without me for today. Oh, and Seungkwan?", he added before leaving.

"What?"

"I owe you one!", he said with zero context as to what he was referring to, leaving a confused Seungkwan behind to ponder what he had meant.

Maybe one day he'd remember to formally thank his friend for accidentally confessing to his crush on his behalf, but for now his mind was muddled solely with thoughts of you and calling you to see if maybe you'd be willing to see him again as soon as possible. Today, maybe? He needed to confess to you formally, not as he pathetically came in your mouth before leaving you to perform.

~

"Hello?"

"You picked up! Okay, good. Hi."

"You know, you're way less smooth than I thought," you laughed.

"Are you saying I have no rizz?", he pouted through the phone.

"Maybe. Depends what you're calling me for?", your tone shifted to a more suggestive tone.

"Fuck, please walk me through this. I have no idea how to talk to you," whined Soonyoung, deciding to lay all cards on the table. You already knew he was pathetically into you, what harm could it bring?

You hummed as you pondered what he said, clicking your tongue, "When are you free?"

"For you? Any time," he replied with a quickness.

"So, tonight?"

"Yes," he said without a second thought.

"Shit. You really like me, huh?"

"So fucking much. I could go on about it forever. Just, you know, maybe not while you're making me lose my mind on some public basement," he laughed airily, wincing internally at how pathetic he must've sounded earlier that day.

"Yeah? Wanna come over and tell me more about it?", you dared.

"Please text me your address and I'll be there within the next hour," he practically pleaded. On further thought, he still sounded pathetic while speaking to you. Maybe some things just could not be helped.

"I'll see you here at ten, okay?" you made a kissy sound to him and hung up before he could say anything else, sending him a text with your address just moments later.

Soonyoung sighed as he let himself slouch back on the couch he'd been sitting on, still finding himself at his company's building, as the need to call you was too big for him to arrive home before doing so. For now, he'd be able to make a stop home before heading over to your place. It was still early and he needed to bathe and wash and pamper himself to the best of his ability (Just in case his visit was going to be as suggestive as your voice had been on the call).

Having a chance to think over the past day on his way to his home, he realized that his debilitating shyness around you had died off the moment you kissed him, instead becoming a newfound sense of neediness he didn't know he had in him. He accepted it – specially since you seemed to like it. However, he had hopes that he'd be able to talk to you a bit – and maybe finally get to ask you out –tonight at your place.

From what Seungkwan had said (along with the way you interacted with him), he believed there was a chance you liked him back. You wouldn't have kissed him (nor given him the head of his life) if you didn't like him at least a bit. You also wouldn't laugh so much while talking to him (nor smile at him so often) if you didn't feel anything for him.

These were his thoughts and hopes throughout the night as he readied himself for you.

~

A few hours later and he now found himself in front of your gated home. It had taken some effort to get here, seeing as it was rare for you to give out your address (As a fellow idol, he understood), but he was still on time.

He knew that the cool thing to do would've been to arrive a little late or maybe even skip it altogether to get your curiosity about him to heighten more, but he was too excited to see you to even think about playing any games. With some treats in hand (which he knew you liked, as per Seungkwan's input), he rang your doorbell and awaited your arrival.

Upon seeing you, he gulped. You weren't wearing anything particularly racy – just some loungewear. Unfortunately for Soonyoung, he had a thing for you in loungewear, apparently. You donned a white tank top and some sweats, which somehow managed to contour your body perfectly for his viewing. The comfort that radiated from you also made Soonyoung feel a mixture of softness and want for you. His feelings for you at the moment were complicated – all he knew was that he wanted you; whether that was in a pure or filthy way, he wasn't sure.

"Hi," was all he could bring himself to say.

"Hi, Soonyoung. Come in?", you moved to the side to let him in.

He walked in, taking in your place and how much of you it contained. Or well, that's what he planned to do until you grabbed his hand and prevented his wandering, leading him over to a large couch in what he assumed to be your living room.

Wordlessly, you took the treats from his hands and sat him down decisively, immediately going to straddle him and placing your hands on his shoulders. He was intimidated by your straightforwardness, but immediately too into it, whining into your lips the mere moment your mouths connected. His hands were less timid this time around, holding onto your hips and attempting to pull you closer to him.

"Fuck, I've wanted you all day," you sighed into his lips.

"I've wanted you for years," he breathed against your own, following your lips any second they were away from his.

"Are you gonna show me?"

"Yes, fuck. I'll do anything you want, however you want," he promised as your lips went down to his neck, sighing at every kiss against his skin.

"Fuck, why did you wear so many clothes?", you groaned at the jacket that was in your way, also referring to the thick jeans he was currently sporting under you.

"I- I thought we were just going to watch a movie or something," he explained shyly.

As stupid as it sounded the second he said it, he truly was not expecting you to jump him for a second time in the same day. He had truly expected the two of you to talk or simply hang out before your next sexual encounter. However, he was unable to find any complaints regarding his current situation.

His statement must've given you some sort of reaction, as you disconnected your lips from his neck and leaned back to face him with a look of awe in your eyes.

"Soonie, fuck, you're too cute," you groaned, hand going up to his cheek as your thumb caressed the skin there, "You almost make me feel bad for wanting you so bad," you muttered before going back to your regular volume of voice, "I promise we'll talk, baby. I just- I've been wet since I sucked you off today," you explained, giving him no time to respond before kissing him again.

The couch you were currently sitting on squeaked at the brand new movement above it as you began softly grinding against Soonyoung, damning any layers in between you.

"I- I wanted to return the favor, I swear!", he managed to pant out, mind leaving him a little more every time your hips connected with his, "I had to go, I didn't- I didn't mean to leave you like that," explained in deep breaths.

"I know, Soonie. Which is why you're going to make it up to me. Right, baby?," you coo'd against his lips, licking at them when he pouted and nodded in response.

Only a few more moments of making out and dry humping took place before you began growing restless above him, whimpering any time your cunt would grace against the harsh button of his jeans. Your sweats were thin enough for Soonyoung to know that the mutual humping of his hips must've been getting you off (at least going off by the increasingly high cries you were breathing into his mouth).

"I want you to fuck me," you suddenly said when you pulled back for air, messily getting off his lap and dragging him with you, hard dick standing up and all.

Almost robotically, he followed you to your room, surprised when you sat down this time, seemingly directing for him to be on top. Before he could begin to crawl over you, however, you stopped him with a palm to his chest, nodding at him to take off his clothes.

"Clothes off, baby. I'll take mine off too."

He stood frozen for a second at the mention of you getting undressed, staring down at you as you nonchalantly threw off every item, leaving you fully naked in front of him as you sat back on the edge of the bed.

"Soonie? Clothes?", you asked.

"O-oh, right," he stammered, eyes still not leaving your breasts.

Despite having had no higher education during his twenties, he was sure he could write a whole dissertation on every curve of your body. Every freckle and line of your skin had him too distracted to take off his clothes without tripping every few seconds. You might've been giggling at the sight, he wasn't too sure since his eyes, ears, and entire mind were in tune to the view from your shoulders and below.

Finally undressed, he hesitantly walked over to your spot on the bed, only to be beat by you when you suddenly crawled further on the bed, somehow conjuring a condom from under your pillow as you turned around and set yourself in all fours, presenting him with your- oh fuck.

Soonyoung could've sworn he lost his mind the moment you arched your back just a little more as he approached you, almost dropping to his knees at the sight. He felt like an animal in heat, while also having an understanding of what it must be like to be a starving man in search of his next meal. His body was begging him to grab that condom and insert himself as deep in you as it was humanly possible, hammering into you until he cried at the stimulation.

It was the weaker part of him, however, that won.

His shaky hands reached for the condom you'd placed on the highest point of your back, struggling to put it in due to the sheer need running through his veins. After that, his hands finally went to your bare hips, feeling them up and down in absolute awe. One of his hands came to the arch of your back, toying with the thought of pressing it even lower and audibly groaning when you actually followed through and ended up pressing your ass even further against him.

"It's stressing me out how badly I want you," he cried out, sniffling, "I'm going to burst the moment I'm inside you," he verbalized his fear.

"Me too, Soonie ..." you sighed, "Been waiting for you all day ... Need you to fuck me already," you practically pleaded. Pleaded, as in pleading for him. He was sure you wanted him dead.

Nodding to himself, he began lining himself up, unable to resist the temptation to let his tip toy at your folds despite how such sensation made his eyes roll back in pleasure. His groans got louder at your own reaction – even more pleas of his name to finally fuck you.

Unable to hold back any longer, Soonyoung finally penetrated you, instantly regretting it, as he knew there would be no way for him to ever feel such pleasure ever again.

It was mixture of his feelings for you paired by the natural desperation he felt at having all these years of anticipation come to a close. Having dreamt about you for countless nights, he'd torture himself with unachievable thoughts of you. Now that he finally had you, pretty and stuffed under him, his mind could not process how tight and hot and wet you felt around him.

"It's so good, oh, fuck, it's so- you feel so fucking good," he panted out in strangled breaths, beginning to hump against your ass.

The slaps of his hips against your ass sounded so filthy to him in that moment, but it only heightened his drive even more. He was known to have a tiger's stamina for a reason.

"Mphm, t-tell me how it feels," he pleaded after some moments of not hearing much from you. Suddenly a wail released from your lips, making his cock twitch inside you at the sound.

"C-can't, it's too good. So big, fuck", you gasped intermittently.

"Right? Made for me ... Right? She's just for me, isn't she? So wet and tight for me," he knew that maybe personifying your pussy mid sex could be a turn off for some people, but was pleased when the sudden tightness of your pussy confirmed that he'd been correct in assessing you – you were a freak just like him.

"She needs more, Soonie," you begged.

How was he to deny you when you'd been so good? When you were the girl of his dreams, granting him access to the pussy that starred every single one of his filthiest dreams for years?

His hips sped up, likely bruising your ass with the intensity of the skin slapping. You had no complaints, though, continuing to occasionally cry out his name accompanied by babbles.

He was not doing any better, practically drooling both at the sight and feeling of you.

"Tell me you like me," he suddenly pleaded, knowing his orgasm wad approaching, "Please."

"So much, Soonie. So- so sweet for me. Like you so much," you confirmed in between hiccups of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck, thank God," he sighed in relief, hips going even harder at the confirmation of you liking him back. This meant that he'd get to have you again and again, and not only that, but he'd also get to hold your hand and put a heart next to your contact name and bring you over to meet his mom and-

"I'm so close, Soonie," you interrupted with the prettiest breath of desperation Soonyoung had ever heard.

"S-say it again," he cried, using his last efforts to prolong his orgasm long enough to achieve yours before he finally broke down.

"I like you s-so fucking much, Soonyoung," you repeated, "You're so handsome and sweet, and- and you like me so much," you explained in between gasps every time his hips would hit that spongy spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back.

Every word went straight to his cock, breaking him and bringing forth his orgasm sooner than he had anticipated. In sheer desperation, his hand went under you, rapidly toying at your swollen bud in order to get you there with him. There was no way he was going to cum without you twice in a single day.

Crying out uncontrollably, he became a senseless mess, hips having lost all their rhythm and nonsensical babbles filled with praise leaving his lips. He hadn't realized your orgasm had arrived until he felt you tighten up impossibly tightly around him, having been too into his own to notice. Regardless, his inner instinct commanded him to buck into you as you went through your high, ignoring any sensibility he may have felt. Your pleasure was his priority, now and from then on.

"P-please, Soonie, it's too much, it's- Oh, fuck. Like that. Just like that, Ah!", you moaned for him up until your arms gave out, forcing you to fall against the bed and bury your head in the sheets, muffling every whimper Soonyoung dreaded to miss.

He reasoned it was fine. Now that he knew you liked him back, he'd be able to draw orgasm after orgasm out of you. A sinister part of him was bugging at him to flip you over as soon as your orgasm subsided and force at least three more out of you as he buried his face between your legs, but he didn't want to scare you off with his sick addiction to you just yet.

That, and the fact that his mind was only seconds from melting away as your cunt insisted on sucking him in, disregarding how sensitive his cock was. The only thought in his mind at the moment was constant silent praise to your cunt and to yourself for having allowed him access to your bare body.

"Shit .... God, I really wasn't expecting that," you panted out after your orgasm had ended, gasping when he finally pulled out without warning, "You're kind of insane for someone so shy," you added as you caught your breath.

Chuckling as he helped you lay on your back, he reached over to some tissues on your end table and cleaned you up a bit, proceeding to remove his condom and getting up to throw it out along with the tissues. When he made it back to the bed, you were already laying under the covers, laying on your side and staring up at him with a suggestive smile.

Giggling at you, he giddily got under the covers. It was insanely hard to control the gigantic grin that took over his face when you instantly cuddled into him, letting him nuzzle his face into your breasts. If there was a heaven, this was it.

"Was I good?", he mumbled into your skin, not able to help himself in laying a few kisses here and there.

Your hand felt heavenly as it scratched at his scalp, allowing no space in between you as you cocooned him against you, legs wrapped around his waist holding him hostage.

"Are you serious? I think you broke me. Wasn't expecting you to be so ... horny."

"I'm always horny for you," he said nonchalantly.

It was amusing to him how easily he found comfort in you so soon. Only a few hours prior, he was a stuttering mess, yet he his nose was now deeply buried between your breasts, hands on your as as he held you against him, a feeling of ease floating around the room.

"Stop," you dragged out the vowel, laughing at how ridiculous his answers always were, "You're gonna make me like you even more."

"Not more than I like you," he rebutted, squeezing you closer in some sort of act of defiance, "Let me take you out?", he then asked, poking his face out of chest to stare up at you with wide eyes.

"I'd be an idiot to say no," you started, "Yes, Soonyoung. I've been waiting for you to ask," you added, scooting down on the bed so you could finally be face to face with the boy.

Gaping at you, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, "Oh my God. How long have you liked me?"

"Ever since Seungkwan told me, I've been trying to get you alone, but you'd always run away," you giggled, "Realizing you'd always avoid me because you liked me just made me so ... endeared. I was so happy when Kwan told me you wanted to do that TikTok dance with me," you revealed, kissing at his cheeks by the end of it.

Groaning, he nuzzled into your tits again, humming at the vibration of your body as you laughed at him again, "Fuck, I know I should've just asked you out. You just made me so nervous."

"Well, we can make up for the lost time now," you assured, cuddling into him, "You still need to take me out."

"I'll take you out every day," he hummed, "But first, I owe Seungkwan a drink," he added, drinking in yet another giggle from you.

to read short 3.4 word continuation you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: sub!soonyoung, body worship, hoshi being down horrendously bad, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 888 (teaser); 3425 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Can you get off my friend?"

"Do you mean my girlfriend?"

"It's been like half a day, stop saying that," groaned Seungkwan, staring you and Soonyoung down as you lounged around the hardwood floors of their practice room, cuddled up as if you hadn't just had your first date yesterday.

Soonyoung hadn't had the pleasure of knowing you on a personal level for too long (meaning he'd literally only made eye contact with you for the first time less than a week ago), but he had grasped your humor and boundaries pretty quickly. He knew you had no issue with how intense he was with his feelings for you, simply giggling along with him when he'd call you girlfriend or even wife. You said you found his crush cute and as a great ego-boost, specially since the crush was pretty much mutual (your words, by the way!!).

Seungkwan had been a mixture of elated and annoyed at the news of the two of you dating as soon as he'd seen you walk into the practice room hand by hand. Apparently you had texted him right after sleeping with Soonyoung, entailing your escapades together. Both mortified and proud of his friends now being privy to that information, Soonyoung took it as a welcome to begin parading you around as his girlfriend.

Your first date took place on the following day, manifesting itself as a simple at-home picnic late at night, followed by a sheepish 'first date kiss' at the end of the day and leading to this morning, where Soonyoung begged you to make a stop by his practice room before going to your own.

Your quick stop became a long visit as you became entertained by your friends and Soonyoung, who refused to let you leave. So now you found yourself being hogged by your boyfriend whilst your best friend feigned annoyance at the sight.

"Are you just not going to join us for practice?", Chan eventually approached you after having gone over the choreo a few times with some of the other members.

"I need to make up for lost time," whined Soonyoung, somehow nuzzling further into you.

"How are you not sick of him?", Minghao asked with a lighthearted eye-roll, kicking at Soonyoung's foot on his way by.

"Come on, he's cute," you spoke in defense of him, causing a muffled giggle to vibrate against your chest, a few pecks being left in his wake as a silent thank you.

"Then take him home, he's useless here! Some of us still need to practice," added Seungkwan, joining Minghao with an eye-roll of his own.

Turning to Soonyoung, you nudged him, "What do you say? Want my driver to give you a ride home?", you began leaning up against his wishes, giggling at the way he attempted to keep you cuddled up next to him, "C'mon, Soonie. Your members need to practice."

Getting up, you managed to drag him with you, turning to Seungkwan after the fact.

He pouted at you, giving you a hug goodbye as he usually liked to do, "You don't actually have to go, I was just being annoying," he said into your neck.

"It's fine, Kwannie. Soonyoung said he wanted to head home earlier, I don't know why he dragged me here anyway," you smiled at him before getting pulled away by your touchy boyfriend, who was sticking his tongue out at Kwan in defiance.

"He brought you to show you off," interjected Jeonghan, earning a scowl from Soonyoung.

"Anyways, never again! You can all keep your eyes," he turned to Seungkwan, "and hands off my girlfriend now. Thank you!", he stated like a petulant child, hand sliding down your arm and into your hand before beginning to pull you to the exit.

You giggled at his antics, waving goodbye to your friends before walking away with him.

"Hey," he called your attention once you were out in the hallway.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ... Can I come over to your place instead of having your driver drop me off?", he asked, uncharacteristically shy.

"Hmm? Yeah, of course. Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, "No! Just ... It's been two days since we, you know, and we've been spending all this time together. I didn't want to, like, scare you off or anything ..." he trailed off.

Although he was facing you, his eyes were avoiding your own, likely out of bashfulness. This made you crumble.

"Soonie," you coo'd, taking hold of his cheeks in your hands, "You're not scaring me off. I'm sorry I haven't been as forward about my feelings," you pouted at him, earning a pout in return, "How about you stay over tonight? We can have watch movies and have some fun together? I'll get you a ride back to the company tomorrow morning. What do you think?", your hands went to the back of his neck, lightly pulling at the treces from his mullet.

The slight suggestion to sex was there, but you hadn't meant to highlight it. You mostly just wanted to spend time with him; try to reassure him you enjoyed his company as much as he did yours.

He nodded enthusiastically, "Really? That sounds- that sounds fun," he practically reeled, following along without a second thought when you grabbed at his hand again, pulling him to the elevators.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[milla-frenchy]

Push it

3k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you have a secret “relationship” with Joel, your dad's best friend. You know you can't have more, but you can’t resist the idea to provoke him a little

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel late 40s), Joel is a grumpy, possessive, jealous man, reader is a brat. Grinding, dry humping, oral (f/m), pussy slapping, spanking, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, cum eating, squirting, piv, creampie

a/n: so, this is my first dbf!Joel fic. Thank you anon, for your ask ❤️ I hope you'll like it 🙏

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing baby 💕🫶

dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The fic is titled after “Push it” by Garbage 

Joel was looking at you walking back and forth from the dining room and the kitchen, swaying your hips and teasing him in your short dress. And if your father had been paying any attention to him instead of the game on TV, he would have noticed the way Joel was biting his upper lip or rubbing his hands together. Joel was nervous, and the more nervous he got, the more you teased him.

“Damn brat,” Joel muttered under his breath.

“What?” your father asked.

“Nothing,” he replied and then sighed. “Just said that player really sucks, that’s all.”

“I think he’s hot,” you said cheerfully. “How old is he?”

“A little too old for you to be interested, honey. Over 30 years old.”

You scoffed at your father’s words, and you were pretty sure you heard “jesus” coming out of Joel’s mouth.

You spent the rest of the match pulling down your neckline to expose more of your cleavage or hiking your dress up your thighs. You were careful to do it in a way that your father wouldn’t consider inappropriate if he ever looked at you at some point, but he was captivated by the game. 

Your and Joel’s gazes met often and he gave you a few serious warning stares that you ignored shamelessly. You didn’t even try to hide your satisfaction each time he had to readjust his jeans.

Once the match was over, you brought their empty beer bottles back to the kitchen, and Joel's firm hand closed around your arm as soon as you were there.

“The hell you doin’?” he grumbled.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” he hissed through his teeth. “Acting like a damn tease, makin’ me hard during the game? In front of your father, goddamn it! Could even see you’re wearing the black lingerie.”

“Ooooh… yeah, your favorite. Too bad you made it very clear the last time you filled me up- we fuck just for fun, right? So let me have fun and act as I please in my father's house. And let go of me.”

But he squeezed harder. “Keep it down,” he growled. “And that ain’t what I said.”

“Whatever. Next time you see me, I may be with my boyfriend.”

“What boyfriend?” His nostrils flared and you loved the sight.

“The one I’m probably gonna meet tonight, when I go out with my friends. The one who’ll appreciate my lingerie. Let go of me,” you repeated, yanking yourself free.

You headed towards the kitchen door, and after glancing behind, you saw him leaning against the counter. Annoyed, dark eyes, eyebrows furrowed, arm muscles stretching his black t-shirt. Irritation suited him well, he was even more handsome than usual. You tried to ignore the racing of your heart as you stepped back into the dining room.

“Can you help me with the internet at home?" he asked you in front of your father. “Connection ain't working.”

“I’m sorry, Joel, I can’t right now. I have to get ready, I’m going out tonight and my friends are picking me up in an hour.”

“Jesus, your manners?!” your father replied as if you had said the most impolite thing in the world. “Go help Joel. Your friends can wait a few minutes.”

You rolled your eyes, careful so that only Joel could see you. He smirked in a way that was so feline that you felt yourself dripping. He walked out towards his house, not checking if you were following him. He knew you were. 

Once home he sat down on his couch, resting his right arm on the backrest.

“What's the problem with the internet?”

“Ain't got any problems. Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.

“What makes you think I wanna sit on your lap?”

“Pussy's dripping. Can smell it from here.”

You rolled your eyes but you walked over to him and straddled him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He grabbed your hips tightly and positioned you how he exactly wanted you, his stiff shaft in his jeans against your folds covered only by your black panties. Your eyes sparkled when you felt his manhood. His were fixed on yours. Full of confidence, the eyes of a mature man, aware of his power of seduction over you.

“Stop being a brat and grind on me. I know you need it bad.”

You rolled your hips slowly, grinding against his hard cock. His hands firmly laid on your hips, but letting you lead the pace. His jeans almost hurt your inner thighs but you needed that friction against your soaked pussy. That sweet pain, the one that helps to feel better, like an itch that can be relieved only when you scratch it a little. He pulled your neckline down roughly, cupping your breasts in his palms before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking it.

“Joel…,” you whimpered.

“Keep humping me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that. She needs it, uh?”

He took your nipple back in his mouth, licking and then nibbling on it lightly, pressing on your shoulders to feel you more.

“Use me. Use me to get off,” he said, the need in his voice showing you how much he loved feeling you rub yourself against him. You kept rolling your hips, moaning “Joel, Joel…,” your whimpers getting louder and louder, until you breathed out “it’s good, so good, I’m gonna come,” just before you came against him, whining into his neck, trembling. Your desire wetting your panties even more and flowing onto his jeans.

You let your forehead rest against him, panting into his skin that you kissed as he stroked your back, before you pulled back and faced his dark eyes.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you said, kneeling down and unzipping his jeans.

“Yeah? Gonna help me with that after your little game? That's what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to get fuckin’ hard, while I couldn't do anything about it.”

You nodded, there was no more brat attitude left in you, just eagerness as you pulled his cock out gently, and watched his weeping, red tip. You licked your lips and spread the precum around his slit with your thumb. You sucked him the way he liked, lingering on his tip for a long time, licking, sucking. Each time, you wanted to give him the sloppiest head, so that he wouldn’t think about anyone else. Wouldn’t want anyone else.

When you took his length in your mouth, getting used to its thickness, pressing your tongue against his quivering skin, you felt him shiver. Until he pressed his cock against the back of your throat, and finally put his hands on your head. You loved feeling his underlying power, his pressure on your temples.

“Don’t move,” he said in a low voice, his length buried in your hot throat. You felt his tip twitch. Finally he started to thrust, fucking your mouth and your throat, using you as a fuck hole.

The mouth of his best friend’s daughter. He didn’t think about it anymore, when he was buried in one of your three holes. His remorse was forgotten. He didn’t care what could happen next, where this relationship or whatever it was, would take both of you. Didn't think about the consequences anymore. Only your warmth, your tightness welcoming his cock, mattered.

His hands firmly gripping your head, he thrusted in, and began fucking your mouth relentlessly. From the first time he’d fucked you, you noticed how different he was from your previous boyfriends. He loved when you teased him. He loved being seated on his couch, manspreading, while you were dancing lasciviously in front of him, waiting for him to break and reach out to you. But sometimes, often, you were the one breaking first. 

When you danced like that, his gaze was full of promise. Promise to fuck you so well you’d forget your own name when he was done with you.

Guys of your age didn’t have that patience.

He loved to make you come several times before spilling his cum. Sometimes he made you come again after, with his tongue or fingers, leaving you breathless and cock dumb. 

Your ex boyfriends usually didn’t care.

But he cared.

You let him use your mouth, let him move your head back and forth. Let him bury himself in the back of your throat. You learned not to gag anymore, when he fucked it. He trained you to do it. 

His hands froze on your temples, and you knew he was about to shoot hot ropes of cum that would hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come… swallow all of it, sweetheart. Like a good girl, just like I taught you.”

His cum spurted out, and drop by drop, you swallowed it all. Then you carefully cleaned his shaft, his tip, until he pulled out. He put his cock back in his pants, and zipped them.

“You should go, you’re gonna be late.”

“Do you have something to tell me, Joel?”

“Good evening?” He sighed when he saw your eyes, a little blurry, and added “and keep those wet panties on. I want you to remember how you came humping me, while you’re out with your friends.”

You didn’t try to meet his gaze when you heard his words, and you left.

Babe? Babe!” You heard your friend’s voice in the distance. You were so lost in your thoughts. Always the same. Joel.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You spread your hands in front of you, as if to mean you had no idea what she was talking about.

“We’re supposed to have fun and you seem… somewhere else. What’s on your mind, babe?”

You answered that everything was fine, and tried to push Joel out of your thoughts. Joel who had told you that you weren’t a couple, that you didn’t have a relationship because your father, other people couldn’t know. That this thing between you was a bonus that you were giving each other. But that there couldn’t be more.

So when a guy of your age approached you and asked you to dance, you didn’t say no. When he offered you a drink and asked if you wanted to join him in the bathroom of the bar, you didn’t say no either. Sat on the bathroom sink, you let him eat you out.

And you only thought about Joel who always did it so perfectly, knew when to lick lightly, when to suck on your clit, knew how to fill you with two of his fingers. You had to think about him, the whole time that guy was eating you out. You had to think about Joel’s beard and mustache, scratching tenderly or roughly against your sensitive skin.

It was the only way for you to come.

When you left the bathroom, Joel was the first person you saw. Dark stare. Then darker than ever, when his gaze fell on the man who walked out of the room right after you. You froze before heading to your table, but he grabbed your arm before you sat down. 

“I’m taking you back home. Now.”

“Are you mad? I come home whenever I want.”

“Wow wow! What’s going on? Are you her dad?” Joel looked at this man whose name you didn't even know, from his full height, fists clenched. Joel looked at him as if he wanted to throw him to the ground, making him take a step back.

“No I ain’t her dad, luckily for you”, he growled. He turned to you before adding “I said, now.”

You followed him, like a docile dog. Turned on by his jealousy and attitude.

“Get in the damn car,” he grumbled. He started driving, silent, hands clenching the wheel until his knuckles were white.

“Joel…”

“Don’t,” he rambled. “Don’t say a word.”

You sank into the seat, waiting for him to drop you off at your place. But he pulled into his driveway.

“Follow me,” he said, without waiting for you.

When you joined him at his house, his hands were on his hips, his gaze turned towards the ground.

“You fucked him?” he asked in a low voice.

“No. No I didn't.”

“He fucked you?”

“No, damn… He didn't fuck me.”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way that was clear- he didn't believe a word you were telling him.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Don't lie to me. You got that “just fucked” face.”

“Damn, I… He went down on me, that's all.”

“You let him go down on you? On that pussy?”

If you didn't know him, his tone might have seemed detached. But you had known him for a long time, and the surprise mixed with jealousy didn't escape you. Actually, it was even more than a surprise. Almost a shock.

You even felt like he was holding back from saying “my pussy.” But he had been clear about you two. Fun.

“Why do you care? You don’t want anything serious.”

“He ate you with your wet panties on? He pushed them to the side?” You nodded shyly, almost embarrassed.

“Fuck, come here,” he said, grabbing you by the hips before pulling you back towards the couch, your feet dragging in an attempt to keep up with his pace.

He pushed you roughly to sit you down and knelt down in front of you. He pulled your dress up and practically ripped your panties off, and yanked your hips towards the edge of the couch.

“I think this pussy needs to remember who makes her come,” he growled, already pushing two fingers inside you. “You're fucking soaked. You came in his damn mouth?”

“Yes I… Fuck, Joel!” He was fingering your pussy quickly, as if he wanted to remove any memory of any man other than himself.

“Was he good at it?”

“Yeah, he was perfect. Made me come so quickly.”

He slapped your swollen clit and you whined, tears at the corner of your eyes.

“I said, don't lie to me,” he spat at you, stopping his fingers deep inside your pussy.

You lowered your head before answering.

“No, he wasn't good at it. Had to think about someone else to come. Had to think about you,” you whined. “Stop being mean to me, I didn't do anything wrong!”

“I need to remind you how this cunt needs to be eaten. Like the damn slut she belongs to.”

This wasn't the first time he'd degraded you. He'd noticed early on how receptive you were to it. And the way your pussy squeezed his fingers couldn't hide it, once again.

He settled between your thighs, lapping at your cunt still soaked with another man’s saliva, your pleasure and your desire for Joel.

He dove in like it was his last meal on earth, lapping, sucking, mixing his saliva with someone else's and he didn't care. Your hands tangled in his curls. Your orgasm was building and Joel stopped just before you exploded on his fingers and tongue.

“No Joel! Please, why did you stop?”

“I don't want another tongue on this cunt. Ya hear me?”

“But you said…” He slapped your clit again, making you whimper.

“Repeat it.”

“I… fuck, Joel! Jesus… You don't want another tongue on this cunt.”

“If I see you with anyone else again, if I hear about you with anyone else, I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

Your pussy clenched around his fingers without you being able to control your body.

“Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ like it? You want to get punished over my knee like the dirty little brat you are?”

“I… no, I… fuck…”

“Pussy's drooling even more. Unbelievable…” He started to finger you again, slowly, and placed his thumb on your swollen and sensitive clit, making you whimper. “You were a good girl, with proper manners. And now… can't think straight since you took my fat cock, right?”

“I'm… fuck. I'm a good girl.”

“Really?” he smirked darkly. “Good girls don’t get their pussy eaten by a stranger in a damn bar.” He leaned down and licked a long stripe from your hole already filled with his fingers to your clit, before stopping again cruelly. “Good girls don’t make their man jealous,” he added before diving between your thighs, fingering you fast and so hard that his knuckles tapped against your entrance. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it perfectly. 

“My… my man?”

He didn't answer, growling from the depths of your thighs, making you squirm on his fingers as he fingered you hard, until jets spurted out suddenly and wetted his face.

“Fuck yeah! that’s a good girl, squirting on my face, jesus, sweetheart…”

You were completely gone, not realizing that you were cumming on his fingers still buried inside you, until he replaced them with his tongue. He drank everything you gave him, greedy, eager. You kept squirming but his strong grip kept you seated on the couch.

When your jolts stopped, he grabbed your arm to lift you up and bent you over the dining room table. His hand tightened on the back of your neck, and he unzipped his jeans, lowering them mid-thigh with the other one, before sinking into you in one go, grunting like an animal.

He buried his fingers in the flesh of your hip, pumping into you. Hard, deep thrusts, growling “take it, just like that,” and you could only take it. Letting him feed on your needy pussy, on your low moans that he could barely hear, fucking you so hard that you were almost speechless except for the whimpers.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” He kept thrusting in, filling you like only he knew how.

“Harder, Joel. Harder, please,” you begged.

“Jesus…”

Clinging to the edge of the table, you tried to remain as still as possible despite his roughness that threw you forward with every thrust.

“Say my name”, he said in a needy voice. You didn’t hear him and he scoffed. “Too cock dumb to even hear me,” he growled before spanking your ass, hard, making you squeal.

“Joel!!!”

“Oh, you’re back? I said, say my fucking name.”

“J… Joel…”

“That’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

A second spank landed on your already red skin.

“Say it again.”

“Damn, Joel?! Your pussy… my pussy’s yours, damnit…”

A third spank, even harder than the other ones. “Joel, what the fuck??” you whined.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, each time I spank you… don’t pretend you don’t like it, dirty fucking girl.”

You didn't answer. He was right, you liked it. He knew it and you knew it. You liked his strength, you liked that he used you. You liked being his.

“I’m gonna come. Gonna fill you up, fuck!”

He shot his cum deep in your pussy and didn't stop thrusting, pumping you full until you milked his cock.

Your hand against the wood of the table, you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as his heavy body pressed against yours.

“You said it was just for fun… What happened?” you murmured.

“Ain’t what I said. I said, your father can't know. The neighbors, your friends, can't know. But you… you gotta know. I don't share. Got it?”

“Yeah… got it.”

You smiled, feeling his breath against your neck, and his hand tightening on yours, on the wood of the table.

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