#maybe i'll invite over some friends

[pnfc]

i haint watched the dang chibisode and idk if ill actually watch it with sound on sdfjk but i have a hurt feeling about them casually imbuing perry with speech for a one off gag because the idea that he needs to talk to communicate is fake. we had 4 seasons of wacky magic hijinks cartoon where perry never needed verbal speech to communicate. they couldve done this gag at any point in the show but they didn't, and the fact that they didn't felt significant. perry's muteness is such a core part of his character, to me, to the way i conceive of him/write him. i don't wanna overreact to a goofy little side cartoon (even tho i'm doing it anyway) but it's still the characters, and it still upsets me! ok that's it i've said my piece

[protect-namine]

.

[filthyjanuary]

feeling sad :(

[ningtual]

can't believe all my roommate's friends were so actively working against me when it came to who gets the big room with the balcony attached to it and in the end she actually got it....

[learn-and-accept]

I finally got to meet some of my girlfriend's friends and I'm so fucking awkward and I think one of them might not like me

[masterjedilenawrites]

About the anon poll: girl, I just don't want to be perceived lmao

Fair enough ✌🏻

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

Read it on ao3

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[simpjaes]

Wrong brother ― P.JS & P.SH

anonymous requested: jayhoon with “fucking the wrong brother” trope 😵‍💫

wc: 1.8k

tags: sunghoon is a fuckboy on campus but you don't know it. you accidentally send your nudes to jay instead of his brother sunghoon and well....WELL, sexting, actual fucking but it's alluded to, second-hand embarrassment. NOT PROOF READ.

"Just friends" only goes so far when you've been pining something fierce for the past three semesters for a very specific kind of dicking down.

By specific, you mean Sunghoon. You want Sunghoon to dick you down so fucking bad by this point that you think you're going crazy.

The thing is, you've been friends with him and his brother, Jay, since you started college. The three of you kind of clinged to each other because you at least recognized one another (from your hometown) on this vast campus that is filled with strangers and people already within respective groups.

The three of you made your own respective friend group.

Over the semesters, you never really thought about either of them in a sexual light until Sunghoon did something one day that ignited a little bit of something in you. Maybe it's the way he looked at you that night, all drunken and woozy with drooping eyes and your image melting you into his surroundings. Or maybe it's the way he didn't seem to mind that you walked in on that, witnessing him literally choke a girl out on his cock mid-party in an unlocked bathroom.

It's the way all three of you were gonna blow off this party and just hang out together again. It's the way all three of you ended up admitting that you low-key wanted to experience a college party every now and then. It's the way he refuses to talk about what you saw, but knows damn well you want to mock him for it.

Mocking him in a way that would make him talk about it. If only so you can ask why he looked at you like that, with his half-smirk and quick raise of the brows as if to fucking invite you to join.

You made a point not to tell Jay about this because you knew he'd never let Sunghoon live it down, and quite frankly, you want him to live it down. With you, specifically.

This leads to today. So long after you witnessed Sunghoon mid-sexual light, it was hard to see him the way you used to. The way he held her head down even when someone walked in...the way you saw a glimpse of him moaning, half-talking to her when you opened the door.

Is it so wrong that you feel Sunghoon, the shy, beloved, and sweet Sunghoon, has a bit of a mean streak if his dick is hard? Is it really, so fucking horrible for you to kinda, be like, you know, turned the fuck on by it?

It's gotten to the point that the few friends you do have outside of your little circle has gotten fucking sick of hearing about him.

"Just fucking send him a nude, god." One of your friends gripes with a roll of her eyes. "We're in college, he's probably down to fuck if you are!"

You roll your eyes right back at her, snarling a bit as you lean in closer, whispering now.

"He's like, my best friend. Don't you think it's weird that I can't stop thinking about the way he like...basically treated some girl's face like a pocket pussy?"

"No. The dude is hot, anyone would wanna partake in-"

"I can't just fucking roll up like 'Hey hoonie, nice cock, i think. I don't know, i couldn't see it because you had it buried into some girl and I really want to see what it looks like and also i really want you to do that to me just to see what it's like maybe hahahahha"

"You can literally do that." You friend says, fed up. "Again, just snap a nude to him and send it. Just immediately apologize and beg him not to look at it. Pretend it's an accident."

You stare at her, feeling your phone burn in your pocket at the idea.

"I'll text you and tell you what happens." You say suddenly, wiping your hands clean from the crumbs of your snack and walking away without another word.

You don't hear her, but your friend cheers you on with another roll of her eyes. She doesn't actually care because, well, it's Sunghoon. She's actually a little bit shocked that word hasn't gotten around to you. The dude is actually very, very well known with the ladies on campus.

Any lady.

All ladies.

Except you, apparently.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Mortified.

You are fucking mortified. Here you were, dressed in your best (absolutely nothing) with your fingers still grazing your clit as you stare in horror at your phone.

You really did that. You sent the fucking newly taken photo and immediately apologized. Hell, you even closed your phone for a minute out of anxiety that approaching Sunghoon this way was a bad idea...

You phone went off just a few seconds after you turned it off. Just a text from Jay, no biggie, probably just wondering what you're up to.

You were literally still playing with your clit when you opened his text without much care. He shouldn't find out you're making a move on Sunghoon anyway, right?

Well, yeah. He'll never find out because that fucking move you made wasn't on Sunghoon at all. The way your stomach flips upon opening his texts only to find that fucking picture of your open, wet, fingered pussy right there above your quick apology... and then right below that is Jay's texts reading:

Jay: was that really an accident?

Jay: figured you'd have called to tell me to not look at it if you actually were sorry

Jay: i'd know if you had someone to send something like that to anyway

Fuckkkkk why'd you have to be so bold to send something so graphic?! It's so out of character for you, even if you did send it to the right person to begin with. You really are going fucking crazy.

You: um...it was an accident, really...

Jay: you don't seem too apologetic for sending it to me

Jay: "sorry, that wasnt for you. pls delete lol"

Jay:....you sure it wasn't for me?

Jay: sounds like you meant to send that...

This is...embarrassing. Jay, fucking Jay of all people is stroking his fucking ego right now. Thinking this is for him, that you want him. Which, i mean, that's surprising because he acts so uninterested in sex when you're around him. Like you've never even seen him stare at a girl for too long or admit to you, or his brother, that he wants to start dating. Yet here he is??? Talking to you like this?

You don't even know how to respond to him when you get another text. A fucking image.

Of his cock.

That's Jay's cock on your phone. Right there. Jesus.

Jay: oops, lol, didn't mean to send that.

You pause, barely able to tear your eyes away from how fat that thing is before you respond in an annoyed, text-tone.

You: are you fucking mocking me?

Jay: depends, are you into that kind of thing?

What the fuck is happening right now? Is this really Jay? Is this how he acts? What is with you and your best friends ending up acting...so interesting when a pussy is around?

You: what's it to you?

Jay: you literally just showed me how deep your fingers can go in your pussy, it's everything to me right now

Why...did you just tingle? Why did your fucking clit throb at that? This is Jay. Then again, you had the same shock when you witnessed Sunghoon that night. Still, should you really play into this? Should you really lead Jay on out of pure arousal and curiosity and forget about your plan with Sunghoon?

You'd look so bad if Jay found out now that you plan to do the same shit to Sunghoon. Ugh, you feel like a total slut.

You: jay, it was an accident.

Jay: fuck off with that, no it wasnt. besides, i liked it. send more

You sigh, slapping yourself on the forehead out of pure embarrassment but god. Are you really about to do this? Are you really snapping more pictures right now?

Yeah. You fucking are. And you send them just as easily as you did the first time, allowing your clit to think for you at this moment rather than worry about the consequences of this.

Jay: fuck, i can't believe you're doing this right now, prettier than i imaged

Jay: jerked off to you so much last semester, was starting to think i need to find someone else to chase

Jay: [image attachment]

The whiplash you're getting right now. Jay...has been into you?! Since fucking when?!?! and, god, fuuuuck, why is he so big? Why is Sunghoon at the back of your mind right now? Why the fuck are you rubbing your clit harder for this?

Jay: well?

You: i feel weird about this

Jay: just give it a few, keep doing that, keep showing me.

And well, you do. Solely out of curiosity. You keep snapping pictures, showing him a personal timeline of how wet you're getting before you get another text from him. Finally, after about ten minutes of silence.

Jay: open your door

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Silence. Utter fucking silence as you lay next to Jay with his heavy limbs thrown over you. Despite the heaviness of your breathing paired with his, your ears are ringing.

How did he do that?!

When did he learn how to fuck like that?

What the actual fuck is happening?!

"Jay..." You half-whisper out to him, breath still struggling to balance out.

"Hm?" He hums back, his arms pulling you in, pressing your back to his chest as he ghosts his lips next to your ear. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just-" You decide not to tell him about how this was accidental. "I'm shocked, that's all."

For some reason, the laugh he lets out fills your heart. It's the same, genuine, laugh he lends to you when you do something clumsy. Never had you realized that it was an endearing laugh, one that pointed to the fact that he likes you.

And it's not that you don't like him. You love Jay so, so much. But this, this is something you don't know if you can come back from. Do you have feelings for him? Not really...you're just horny. Do you have feelings for Sunghoon? You can't say that you do. But this...meant something to Jay.

He can never find out that you'd never spared him a sexual glance or thought before this. You can't bring yourself to lose that laugh in your ear right now.

"So, you liked it?" He asks now, which only makes your heart rattle even more because of course he's seeking reassurance right now.

"Are you kidding?!" You try to play it off like a joke, trying not to attach yourself to the emotions he gives to you. "I came like three times Jay, holy shit."

You feel him shrug behind you, as if he's proud.

"What? You thought I couldn't do it?"

It's not that you never thought he could do it, it's just that...you've never thought about it all.

[no-one-hears-me]

broooo I hate when people can't just give a solid answer to plans

[slapintoaslimjim]

requited love

how the mha characters would react to finding out you also have feelings for them

includes: i.midoryia, k.bakugou, s.todoroki

a/n: this is part one, i'll be making part two with Kiri, kami, and sero soon :3

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

izuku midoryia

-found out by uraraka just randomly dropping in her sentences about how you always talk about him

-"yeah y/n mentions about you two hanging out to me a lot, she also called you cute!" "wait whAT?!"

-but, he doesn't want to jump to conclusions and make a fool out of himself in case if he's just reading into it too much

-cue him stressing himself out over it to the max

-because what do you mean the person he's crushed on since his first year at UA likes him back?! no she might not.. okay but she does because she talks to uraraka about their hang outs all time and called him cute!

-yeah, its an internal battle for a while

-i've mentioned in a previous drabble that he is the type to write a love letter. so yep! you guessed it!

-he's writing that letter for you

-BUT! before he gives it to you, he manages to get a somewhat concrete answer if you actually like him from uraraka

Katsuki Bakugou

-he already knew lol

-he's a highly observant person, and as your friendship grew he watched as the way you act with him is so different (to him) versus with your other friends

-its the way when he talks your full undivided attention is always on him, a soft smile on your face, too

-or when events happen around campus, your first instinct is to invite him with you

-or how you're constantly checking up on him and making sure he doesn't over do himself when training

-you didn't do this the first few months of the friendship, and it can be very easily overlooked by the others and it is but he notices these subtle things

-and when you two are hanging out alone, that tough, hard exterior that he had, crumbles

-you become his kryptonite, and he has a hard time for a while accepting the fact that he has feelings for you too, beyond platonic

-because why did that hug you gave him make his heart palpate? Mina is constantly hugging everyone, including him, and that never happens with her

-because yes, katsuki may struggle with his feelings. but he's not an idiot. he knows the difference between romantic and platonic

-and what he feels, he knows it's not platonic anymore

shoto todoroki

-he suspects it, but doesn't think too much of it at first

-he's dense, yeah. maybe bad with knowing and spotting romantic feelings. but, he does realize how you act with him

-because you're a bit more forward with your actions and words to him (because lets be honest, if you're not, he's not going to get the slightest hint)

-''awe the suit looks so good on you, sho! you look so cute!" "..huh..?"

-or your excuse to constantly be around be at some extent, always hugging him or wanting some sort of skinship with him

-which he slowly but surely opens up to the idea with you

-and izuku is the wingman for both of you; hearing both of your stories about each other and offering advice the best he can

-eventually izuku just blatantly tells him that you like the boy while he's talking to izuku since shoto is obviously conflicted

-"todoroki.. y/n does like you. you're not looking too deep into it" "........"

-time for him to steal his daddy's card and take you on that date he's been mentally planning

[thinkinonsense]

for more logan angst, would you consider doing a "one year later" or something like that follow-up to dbf!logan and the i love you fight?

i miss you, i'm sorry-dbf!logan howlett x fem!reader

part one

456 days after

everyday your words haunted logan. he could picture you with tears in your eyes so clearly. he still went down to your fathers bar; needing something to cope. you left shortly after the fight, using the money you had saved up from working at the bar to get an apartment a couple towns over. there needed to be distance between you and logan but it seemed that no where was far enough.

logan knew every tiny detail about your life since you left. your father shows him pictures of how you decorated your apartment and tells him about the new boyfriend you've got. he should be happy; you got out before logan could get you hurt. instead, he's been drinking himself to sleep most night. your favorite bra and sleeping shorts still sat in his bedroom dresser, untouched but they still smelled like you.

"she comes home next week." your father says, pouring logan another glass of whiskey. "her mom and i are throwing her a small welcome home party, you should come by."

as if logan wouldn't feel more like a dick, he had also drove you away from your parents. always coming up with an excuse for why you can't come visit.

"i'm not sure–"

logan was cut off by your father again.

"c'mon, bud. i don't wanna be the only guy there." he jokes, excited to see you but just maybe not your friends that your mom invited.

"uh, sure." logan sighs, taking another swig from the glass. he desperately hoped that your father would forget or that logan could come up with some excuse.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

your thumbs drum anxiously at the steering wheel as you drive down your old street. the nerves were finally hitting, too late to turn back like you had many times before. all of your friends cars sat in the driveway, you can't cancel on them again.

logan could smell you before you even got out of your car. he's down in the basement with your dad and a few of the guys from the bar. his mind was anywhere except present as he focused solely on you.

"that should be her, fellas." your dad smiles, getting up to greet you upstairs with the others. "i'll be back."

logan finished his beer and wondered if he should sneak out or fake some emergency. was he even ready to you again? how would you react?

"hey, logan? could you come help bring in some bags?" your father yells down the stairs.

"logan?" your voice was shaking at the mention of the man who shattered your heart.

this isn't the time to be crying. just get through dinner and then you can drive home; tell them you can't stay the night. fuck, what were you going to do?

"welcome home, sweetheart." logan mumbles with a slight nod, walking past you and out the door.

it was hard to mask your anger. one of your friends pours you a glass of wine and brings you to the living room, away from logan. your dad and him bring in your suitcases and sit them in your old bedroom. all of it felt like when you step off a roller coaster; dizzy, slightly confused, wanting to go again.

at the table, your mom asks about your new boyfriend. logan couldn't stand you going on and on about how great this guy was. so great that he's too busy to come home with you.

"so, do you think he's 'the one'?" one of your friends asks.

"um... i'm not sure." you shrug, catching logan's eye. "but i know he loves me and that's all that matters."

you might as well shot logan in the chest with that one.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

one too many glasses of wine and two beers later, almost everyone was starting to clear out. everyone except for logan. he's not sure why he didn't leave sooner. perhaps it was your presence that made him stay. even if you were pissed at him still, you were still here, still near him.

"i'm gonna go get more beer from the garage." you tell your friends, stumbling a little to your feet.

the truth was that you needed some air. too consumed by logan's heated gaze. you made it down the porch steps before you heard the screen door open and close.

"i don't need any help." you call out over your shoulder.

the foot steps sounded much closer by the time you flicked on the light switch.

"don't you think you've had enough to drink tonight?" logan asks, shutting the garage door behind him.

"i can drink however much i want." you slur slightly. "i am an adult after all ."

"i know, you're an adult."

"are you sure? because wasn't it just a little over a year ago that you were still treating me like a child?"

"if you don't want to be seen as a child, then don't act like one."

"fuck you, logan." you hiss, slamming the fridge door.

"oh sure, it's fuck me for sayin' the truth." logan rolls his eyes.

"it's fuck you for breaking my heart."

"do you think that you didn't break my heart by leaving?"

"i left because you told me to go!" you cried, finally letting the tears flow. "i said i loved you and you got scared like a little kid."

"i got scared because you shouldn't love someone as fucked up as me." he snaps, voice becoming strained.

"did you serious think i didn't know?"

logan looks at you stunned. how did you...?

"you talk in your sleep. it wasn't hard to piece together after that." you answer with sigh. "your mutation doesn't scare me."

there's a moment of silence between the two of you. logan steps forward, touching a lock of your hair; vanilla body wash flooding his senses. he's missed you so much.

"your stuff is still in my drawers." logan whispers. you know what he means; he's never been good with expressing his emotions but you always could tell what he meant. "want ya' to come home, sweetheart."

logan's rough palm moves up to cup the side of your face. your torn between shoving him away or pulling him closer. without a second thought, you nuzzle into his touch. old habits die hard.

"i can't." you tell him.

"yes, you can–"

"no. you don't love me, lo."

"i do, i want to be with you." logan begs, fighting off his tears.

"you love when i'm in bed with you or when we listen to records and do cross word puzzles together, but you are not in love with me." you tell him, lightly removing his hand from your face. "i can't be with someone who hides from me, someone who can't even say out loud that they love me. i'm sorry, logan."

you grab the case of beer and walk past him one last time. it was hell to leave him there but even logan knew he deserved it. he wasn't worthy of your love then and he defintely wasn't worthy of it now. you dodged the bullet that would leave him here to bleed out.

[postracehair]

paying attention

max verstappen x reader | 1.7k

a minor accident on a night out forces you to call the one guy you're not sure about. will a hospital waiting room clear things up between you?

cw: enemiesish-to-lovers, some blood (from charles), drunkenness (from charles), a hospital

a/n: first time here. let's see how this goes. __

The club is loud, crowded, and sweaty. You are tired, sober, and searching the sea of people for a certain silhouette. 

"He's not here." Oscar grins at you and takes a sip of his drink, eyebrows wiggling. "Max," he says. 

You frown. 

"I'm not --"

"Sure, you're not," he says. 

You're not entirely certain how you got here -- a club in the middle of Monaco with some of the most famous and wealthy guys in the world. An invite from a friend of a friend one time became two times became you rubbing elbows with the likes of Oscar Piastri and Charles Leclerc and...

Max Verstappen. Who is not here. Which is good, because --

"Why do you hate him, by the way?" Oscar asks. You huff. 

This would be much more bearable if you had a drink in your hand. "I don't." 

Oscar smirks at you. "It's that time he spilled a gin and tonic on you, I bet. You were so mad, I thought he was going to --"

The Australian keeps talking but you stop listening. Your heart beats in time with the thumping music. 

It's not that you hate Max. That would be exaggerating. You just don't know what to make of him. The times he's been out when you're there he's...fine. He makes sure everyone gets on the list, he buys people drinks, and he dances. But you've never really talked to him and maybe you're a little intimidated. Or maybe Oscar is right -- he did spill a drink on you. He probably apologized, but you were too pissed and embarrassed to remember. 

It sounds silly when you think about it now. 

"--just last week, he was saying that he thinks you --"

"Oh, shit!"

"No, Charles, don't!"

"Fuck --"

You and Oscar whirl around to see Charles pressing a rapidly reddening napkin to his palm.  

"Fuck's sake," you mutter. "What happened?"

The glass crunching under your shoes as you head over answers your question. 

"Whoops," Charles says, shrugging. His eyes are glassy and cheeks pink and you know before you lift the napkin that he needs stitches. 

"We're going to the hospital," you say. You think through the logistics -- can you get him there without calling an ambulance? You're not certain where the nearest emergency room is, nor if you can avoid the paparazzi. 

"Call Max," he protests, seeing your mind spinning even through his drunken haze, but you ignore him. 

"Now, Charles." You tug on his sleeve. "Keep this arm up."

It's clear that you're the most sober one here, so you tell the group you're taking him. Hardly anyone notices. Maybe they're all drunk or they just trust you with the Prince of Monaco. Who is being very annoying as you pull him out of the club and into the warm night.

"Call Max," he says again. 

"I heard you, Charles," you say. "We don't need to call him, I'll just call a car--"

"Nooo," he whines. "Just call Max. He'll take us." He shoves his phone at you and holds his injured hand high in the air like you told him to. 

Max will... probably answer. It's summer break and Charles seems to think he's at home. On his sim, or streaming, or whatever really rich guys do at home on a Friday night in Monaco. 

Before you can overthink it, you press the name on Charles's phone and hold it to your ear.

He picks up on the second ring.

"Hey, man," Max says. 

"Um, hey." There's a pause, and then Max says your name. 

"Why do you have Charles's phone?"

You look over at your friend who is examining his poorly bandaged hand. "Du, du, du, du, Max Verstappen," he hums. 

"Can you come get us? Charles cut himself on a glass and needs to get stitches."

"He -- what?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's late --"

"Where are you?" It sounds like he's moving around, keys jangling, a door closing.

"I can call a car, but he told me to call you --"

"Where are you?"

You tell him the club name and he hums. "Be there in 10. Don't leave."

"We're not going anywhere," you huff, but he's already hung up.

"Told you," Charles says, knocking his shoulder with yours. You roll your eyes and push his elbow back in the air. 

Max pulls up in a sleek four-door car in way less than 10 minutes. Charles happily gets in the back before you can say otherwise and you only hesitate for a second before sliding into the passenger seat. 

"Don't bleed on the leather, man," Max says, stepping on the gas as soon as your door is closed. The car hums under you and the streets of Monaco start to fly by. "And put your seatbelt on." 

"It's not that bad," Charles whines. "She's worrying too much."

You huff. Max slows to a stop at a red light.

"Hey," he says. It takes a second to register that he's speaking to you. You finally look at him and find his brow furrowed, jaw tight, almost as if he's actually worried. Maybe he is, even if it's just a cut. Or maybe he really is afraid Charles will get blood on the seat.

"Hi," you say. He looks amused for a second then flicks his hand at your waist. 

"Seatbelt applies to you, too."

"Oh," you breathe. "Sorry." Your brain does something funny -- for a second, you imagine Max reaching over you to grab the belt and pull it across your torso, clicking it tight at your hip. 

You blink the image away, cheeks hot, and buckle it yourself. 

"Thank you," Max says before he steps on the gas again. 

Charles rambles in the backseat about something and Max humors him while you swallow down whatever the hell the sudden tightness in your chest is. What an inconvenient time to realize you might have a crush.

There's little to no traffic and you make it to the hospital quickly. Max drops you both at the doors and Charles is stumbling his way through them before you can say thank you. You swallow the unfamiliar taste of disappointment at no longer being in Max's company and get Charles situated.

The waiting room is nice, obviously, but empty. You can hear the hum of the overhead lights beneath the faint classical music playing from somewhere and smell whatever bleach they use to keep this place clean. 

"Hospitals are so depressing." 

You straighten in your chair and turn to see Max. You let yourself look. Green hoodie, sweatpants that look soft and expensive, and sneakers.

"I thought you'd go home," you say. He shrugs and flops into the chair next to yours, rubbing a hand over his face. 

"You'll both need a ride when he's done." 

God, he looks tired. "Sorry."

Max leans forward, elbows on his knees, and turns his face to you. "For what?"

"Calling, I guess." His hair is a mess and you tuck your hands under your thighs so you don't reach for it. God, what is happening to you? "I bet you were busy."

He laughs and it's so unexpected that you laugh, too. "I don't think I'd call cleaning litter boxes busy."

"Well, still," you press. "Thank you."

Max's jaw works like he's chewing on something, eyes on your face. You try very hard not to squirm in your seat. "I think you don't like me very much," he finally says. 

"I -- what --," you sputter. He leans back in his chair with a smirk. "Why?" you manage to say.

"We don't speak," he says. "You avoid me when we're out, you didn't even call me from your phone--"

"I don't have your phone number," you mutter. 

"And it's fine if you don't," he continues. "I just want to know if I'm right."

He looks unbothered, eyes bright and jaw relaxed but his knee is bouncing. You realize that he's been paying as much attention to you as you have to him. You've been watching each other.

"No," you say, softly. "You're wrong."

His knee stills. "So why the distance?"

You sigh. God, this is not how you expected the night to go. You think back to what Oscar said in the club, to Charles demanding you call Max. Maybe this is something everyone else has seen but you. I thought you didn't like me, you don't say. I thought you didn't even care.

Something about the quiet, empty waiting room and the fluorescents and Max's tone when he told you to put on your seatbelt make you want to be honest.

"I think you're intimidating," you confess. A glance at his face reveals that you've managed to surprise him. His eyes are wide and is he...blushing? "And one time you spilled a drink on me."

That gets him to laugh. 

"Oh, god," he huffs. "That was not very well done of me." He looks at his hands, then back at you. "I owe you one."

"A drink? You didn't spill my drink," you remind him. "You spilled yours on me."

"Ehh," he says, waving his hand in the air. "Details."

Is Max Verstappen asking to buy you a drink? Your stomach erupts in butterflies. Who knew you'd be so affected by this man?

Before you can reply, Charles shoves the ward doors open and calls your name.

"Stop flirting," he says, holding up his bandaged hand with a grin. "Time to go home."

Max glances at you and rolls his eyes but his cheeks are still pink. He stands with a huff, digging his keys out of his pocket. 

Charles, still drunk, clearly, rambles about the stitches and how nice the doctors were as you walk to the car. Max sticks to your side.

"Hey," he says. "Give me your phone."

"Why?" you ask, even as you hand it over to him. His thumbs tap on the screen. 

"Now you can tell me when you're free for that drink." 

He passes it back to you and you see that he's added his number. 

"Are you guys even listening to me?" Charles whines.

"Okay, Max," you say softly. 

He grins at you. 

"Oh my goooood," Charles says. "Come on."

"We hear you, mate," Max says. "Let's go home."

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

💌 next chapter

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[justauthoring]

The Flutters of my Heart.

Request: hey could you do a fic with thanos from squid game: where the reader is apart of gi hub’s group but thanos is really into her and keeps flirting with her loudly. Her and the boys are all suspicious, thinking it’s a trick but they find out he just really likes her

Pairing: Choi Su-bong "Thanos" x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,327

A/N: I did not think the second Squid Game fic I'd write would be for Thanos but... honestly, it feels right.

Two things -> Thanos might be OOC lol he's super hard to write for and you essentially replaced Jun-hee - I love her but it just works better for this fic.

Your first interaction with him had been anything but pleasant.

With blood splattered across his face, from the people you'd seen him knock over during Red Light, Green Light no less, he'd smiled at you with crazed eyes, called you 'Senorita' and asked if you'd join his team. You're positive even if you hadn't seen his actions during the first game, you would've said no. You're even more confident in your outright denial when you see him vote 'O' with a grin.

He's all flirt and false charm. He promises you that he'll keep you safe because he's the one and only great Thanos and does so even as his friend scoffs and tells him they shouldn't bother with someone like you.

You had to admit, he was convincing. If you weren't in a game of life or death, you'd be lying to yourself to say that a part of you wouldn't maybe given in to his flirtations. But, this was life or death and you can't afford to make alliances with someone who is clearly so... unsteady.

Definitely not with someone who so outwardly wants to stay in this terrible place.

You find yourself your own team, somehow survive the second game and really, Thanos hasn't been on your mind since that first interaction. You'd barely paid attention when you'd seen his team win, the only thing really of note catching your attention that he'd seemed to find some other girl to bother instead of you.

Your group, despite two initially voting to stay, are routed in their beliefs to get out of here after the second game. Despite them all being men, they'd accepted you with ease and any little concerns they might have had had been squashed the second you'd won the game of Ddakji your first try.

You feel safe with your group and allow yourself to follow them around, feeling protected with your numbers and at ease with their friendly and inviting personalities.

It isn't until after the second round of voting and Jung-bae's surprising betrayal, that you're approached by Thanos for a second time.

You're in line for food when he approaches you, surprisingly not with Player 124 like he normally is.

"Senorita," he grins, pulling your eyes on him with a blink of surprise. You frown when you realize who it is, and even more so when you register that stupid pet name. "I'm relieved to see you made it through the second game."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff; "let's hope I make it through the third." The insinuation is made clear as you raise a brow at the blue 'O' patch on his sweater.

Thanos only grins. "Even though you're an 'X', I still promise to keep you safe." He winks, taking a step closer to you. "All you have to do is let me."

You huff; "I'm good, thanks."

"Aweh, come on, beautiful," he smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before you can pull away. "You can trust me. I would've last game too if you'd give me the chance. In fact, I tried to find you for the last game but you'd already surrounded yourself with all those old men."

You roll your eyes. "I'd choose them over you anyday."

"You wound me," Thano pouts, clutching at his heart. Still, the glee in his eyes in undeniable. "How about this? You sit with me for dinner, I'll convince you I'm not such a bad guy."

Astonished at his relentlessness, your lips part to respond, but before you can, a voice cuts you off;

"She's already got friends to sit with."

You turn your head to find Dae-ho, him moving to stand right next to you. His hand falls on your shoulder in a reassuring touch, sending you a gentle smile before frowning over at Thanos. Behind, you can see Gi-hun and Young-il who are both watching the interaction closely. They've already got their dinners in their hands, clearly having stopped when they saw you and Thanos.

Already reassured by their presence, especially Young-il after you'd seen him take down both Thanos and Player 124 in seconds when they'd tried to attack Player 333, you turn back to glance at Thanos.

His face has faltered slightly at the sight of your group, but he doesn't back down.

"I'm sure the Senorita can speak for herself," Thanos challenges, smirking at you.

"She can," you cut in, confidence gained by Dae-ho and the rest. "And she says she doesn't want to sit with you either. Now, move. You're blocking the line."

Dae-ho lets out a barking laugh and before Thanos can say anything more, you're turning, shoving past him to move up the line.

Before Thanos would ever admit defeat, he smiles back at you, shrugging; "I'll get you to say yes, eventually!"

-

You're making your way back from the bathroom about thirty minutes later, on your own because you'd assured the boys you'd be okay on your own, when your wrist is grabbed.

Your lips part to let out a yelp, but any sound is quickly muffled by a hand pressed against your mouth.

You're tugged back, in between two sets of the beds, struggling in the grasp until the person who grabbed you stops. Their hands let go of you and you quickly spin, ready to defend yourself if need be, until your eyes catch sight of a familiar shade of purple.

"Thanos," you huff, shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Hey, baby," he grins, lips spread wide.

"What the hell," you hiss, shoving at him. "What is your problem?"

He has the audacity to shrug. "This is the only way I could get you alone to talk." For some reason, he takes that opportunity to brush back a strand of wild hair from your mild kidnapping he'd done, tucking it behind your ears with an odd gentleness.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you ignore the flutter of your heart. "And?" You question, shaking your head. "Still doesn't give you the right to grab me like that."

"I wanted to know your name," he grins, winking at you.

Your lips part. "You wanted to know my name?"

He nods.

"What exactly is the point of all of this?" You huff, shaking your head in frustration. "This is the third time you've bothered me. I thought I made the way I felt clear at the beginning."

"You did," he agrees, "I'm choosing to ignore it."

You blink, stunned. The actual audacity of this man.

"You're ignoring my rejection?"

"Yup," he nods, popping the 'p'.

"You're insufferable," you shake your head. "I don't want anything to do with someone who would willingly choose to stay in these horrible games. Not to mention, have fun playing them."

Thanos laughs, "I'm here for the same reason as you, baby. I need the money," he shrugs, holding his hands by his side as if in innocence as he pronounces 'money' in english. "Nothing wrong with trying to make the most of it. That includes learning your name."

"You're sick," you scoff, "I saw you push those two in the first game! You're the reason they're dead."

"As if they wouldn't have died on their own," Thanos rolls his eyes. "Besides, I'd never do that to you. I told you, didn't I? I'll keep you safe."

"You think that makes it okay?"

"Of course."

Shaking your head, you push away from him, turning your back to him. "Just leave me alone, Thanos. I want nothing to do with someone like you."

You walk away without looking back, unaware of the gaze that follows you.

-

"Hey, Senorita!"

Pausing in your conversation with Young-il and Gi-hun, you freeze, slowly turning your head over your shoulder to meet Thanos' gaze.

He's stood with his friends, Player 124 glaring at you from behind him, with a wide grin and those same wild eyes that made it clear he wasn't sober. You feel your shoulders tense, all too aware of your groups eyes watching the interaction between the two of you.

"If you need a group to join, I'll always be here!" He calls, pointing his finger right at you as he winks.

Swallowing thickly, you turn, choosing to ignore him.

All the boys look at you, waiting for you to say something. You do, just not about Thanos, eager to move on from Thanos' embarrassing and loud flirt.

"If they call about five, we just need to find people...-"

-

You'd gotten separated from Dae-ho.

Somewhere in the midst of running to a room, you'd been knocked to the ground by someone. They'd shoved past you without a single thought to you, and then the crowd of those desparate and panicked had separated you from your friend further.

Now, with tears in your eyes and your heart racing, you're frantically trying to find him or at least one of your friends, all whilst too aware of the time ticking away by the second.

It occurs to you that this might be it. That fall had been hard and your ankle was screaming something terrible right now. Even if you did find Dae-ho, you're not sure you could make it to him or a room in time.

The tears fall then, the seconds feel like agony and far too quick at the same time as you shake with the reality of your situation.

At least, what would've been your situation.

In the next second, a body crashes into you again, except instead of knocking you to the ground, you feel your feet lifted off the ground. A yelp leaves your lips in response, arms pulling you in a chest, confused, before you realize you're being hurdled right into a room.

The person who'd grabbed you was quick and suddenly, you're on your feet, in a room, with Thanos.

He shuts the door behind him and it locks instantly after.

He's panting, chest rising and falling as he turns to look at you, and you're just staring back at him with tears streaming down your cheeks and in disbelief. The echoes of gun shots that follow barely register in your mind as you meet his gaze.

"You saved me..." You breathe, stunned, voice a mere breathless whisper.

"I told you," he pants, offering a winded grin. "I'll keep you safe. I meant it."

The realization that it had in fact been Thanos that saved you is hard to believe and yet, you're faced with the true as he turns back to glance out the small window of the door.

"In the nick of time too," he laughs, somehow still overjoyed and finding humour in this situation. "I thought you and me were both dead there for a second."

Swallowing thickly, you hug yourself, still shaking and trembling from the situation as you shuffle on the spot. The action immediately pulls a cry from your lips as you stumble forward, tipping head first to the ground.

Thanos catches you before you fall.

"Wow," he chuckles, "you okay there, Senorita?"

The pet name that had annoyed you this entire time suddenly is annoying in a whole different way when you realize you wished it had been your name he'd said instead.

And that thought has you reeling even more.

"F-Fine," you wince, grabbing his arms that hold you. "I twisted my ankle when I got separated from...-oh no! Dae-ho! I didn't see if he he made it!"

The smile fades from Thanos face briefly at the mention of Dae-ho, still he helps you steady yourself and shakes his head. "Saw him get pulled into another room. He's fine. You're the one hurt."

Your face twists at that; "it's not his fault."

Thanos turns his face away, "never said it was."

It's clear he thinks it is.

You just huff, using his arms to help keep you upright. "I'm fine. It's just a twist."

Thanos eyes flicker to your ankle. "You can't walk."

Your lips part to say something, but just then the door clicks as it unlocks. You and Thanos spare one more glance at each other, before he's stepping forward to open the door, keeping an arm around your waist to help you walk out. You let him, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest at the action, limping out beside him.

Instantly, you hear your name being called.

You turn, seeing Dae-ho with Jung-bae, Gi-hun and Young-il in turn. There's a relieved smile on the formers lips and the rest look just as relieved.

"Thank God you're okay!"

You grin at them, forgetting who you're with for a second as you turn to them. "I'm glad you're okay too! When we got separated I wasn't sure..."

"I found Gi-hun," Dae-ho explains. "He hadn't been able to find a partner when Young-il, Jung-bae, you and me went off of our own. I tried to find you but..."

Nodding at them, you gesture to your partner. "Thanos found me," you explain, smiling nervously. "He... Well, he saved me. I wouldn't have survived otherwise."

The four of them look positively stunned but Thanos is beaming at the praise.

"Got my reward for it already too," Thanos smirks from beside you, pulling you closer. "Learned your name as well.., Reader."

He wiggles his brows at you and instantly, your cheeks warm. Leaning back from him, you shuffle back and to your surprise, he lets you slide out of his grip. Dae-ho is quick to help you, wrapping his arm around your waist like Thanos had whilst your group takes cautionary steps in front of you.

Just then, Player 124 comes bounding towards him.

"Thanos!"

With one final look your way, Thanos winks; "talk to you later, Reader." And with that, he walks off, joining Player 124's side as they laugh loudly in the otherwise gloom room.

All four turn to you, but you're too stunned to even begin explaining.

That, and you can't get rid of the fluttering race of your heart.

[orimuraa]

໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺ Don’t you want me like I want you baby? - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆roommate enha when you have a crush on their friend ⨾

۶ৎ ot7 roommate!enha x fem!reader ┆fluff, crack┆jealous enha, reader is a bit of a tease,┆ wc 904

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: jiji active moment frfr!! thank you to the anon that requested this and i hope it’s to your liking! please reblog and share some feedback! i really appreciate it <33

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

“hey hee? do you mind maybe introducing me to sunghoon? i think he’s pretty cute,” you smile, trying to contain the smirk on your face. you knew heeseung had a crush on you and to be honest, you did too. but you couldn’t help but also find his best friend quite attractive as well. “what? hoon? really?? i mean- you could just to wayyy better than him..” heeseung rambles, his ears noticeably getting reader. “yeah? like who?” you challenge, your face moving closer to his with a sudden confidence that came from nowhere. “hmm…me.” he smirked, his confidence also coming out of nowhere. “forget sunghoon, go out with me instead,” he whispered, his eyes clouded with jealousy. who knew your roommate was so hot when he was jealous?

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

“jay? you okay? you’ve been glaring at jake for so long….” you asked, concerned for why your roommate was drilling holes into jake’s head. “he’s been getting on my nerves lately,” was all jay uttered. you knew it was because he was jealous of jake and all the attention you had been giving him this past week. everyone knew jay had a crush on you—it was just so obvious. “yeah? don’t worry, you’re the only pretty boy i have my eyes on,” you smirk before walking off, letting your comment sink in with jay. “hey wait what??”

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

“jakey!! heyy, so do you mind if i invite riki over? i’ve been wanting to hang out with him lately and i just wanted to check it with you that it would be okay,” you ask your roommate, jake. “riki? my son??? oh no no no no! absolutely not! i will not lose to my son!” he argue, making an ‘x’ with his arms. “w-what? why not? what do you mean lose to your son?” you were so confused. “i can’t let riki steal you from me!! no! so the answer is no, he cannot come over! why do you need him when you have me?” jake whined, a pout forming on his lips. “fine fine fine,” you sigh. “all i need is you.”

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

“hey hoon? do you know if heeseung is single?” you ask one afternoon, catching sunghoon completely off guard and causing him to choke on his drink and start coughing manically. you rush over to help your roommate not die, slapping him on the back. “sorry- i- that just caught me off guard..” he coughs, clearing his throat. “umm, why dk you ask?” he asks suspiciously. “ohh well..i..he’s just..pretty cute and i know you’re close with him, but it’s okay if he’s not! i understand,” you practically rap out. “hey hey hey slow down. he is single but i don’t know if i’m willing to share you,” he frowns. “i’m so selfish i want you all to myself.”

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

you and sunoo have been roommates forever and sunoo started to grow feelings for you and with that came him becoming very protective of you. so when you started gushing about jungwon, he couldn't help but feel jealous. the tipping point for him was when he came home to find you and jungwon doing face masks together. that was his and your thing not you and jungwon's thing! "hi sun!! wanna join? wonnie has to head home soon so we can have a spa night!" you smile, your nose scrunching ever so slightly as you talked. "oh uhhh sure! i'll join you in a bit," he said, nervously glancing from you to jungwon. once jungwon had left and it was just you and sunoo cuddling up on the couch, sunoo couldn't help but pout at the thought of being replaced by his best friend. "you're mine," he huffed. "not jungwon's." he just had to clarify.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"hey wonnie? do you know if jay is single? he's pretty cu-" "no. jay hyung is off limits. you're off limits to everyone but me," he said, his eyes brows furrowing together as a small pout formed on his lips. that caught you really off-guard. jungwon was always protective of you but never like this. "what? why?" you whine, matching his pouty lips. "because! you're mine! got it? m i n e!" he pouted. that's when it hit you. jungwon was jealous. "wonnie?..are you jealous?.." you ask, a smile appearing on your face. with a huff, he quickly looks away out of embarrassment. "no...i just- it- jay hyu-" he stutters, purposely avoiding your eyes. "it's okay wonnie, i was just joking. i only want you." oh he was so red by now.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

riki was not one to admit his feelings, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of hatred at that moment when he saw you and sunoo playing around in the kitchen. "oh hi ki! sorry, i forgot to tell you that sun was coming over to bake with me," you smiled sympathetically. "it's fine," he grumbled before shutting himself in his room. once sunoo had left, you went to go talk to riki as he seemed off when he got home. "hey ki? you alright? you seemed off when you came home," you asked, joining him on his bed. he was quick to pull you close to him, an arm wrapped around you tightly. "you're not his, you're mine. i'm selfish and want you all to myself," he whispered into your neck. ahh so he was jealous. a small smile tugs at your lips. "don't worry ki, i'm allll yours."

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