#especially with tropes or takes on a genre

[hoseoksluna]

LIFE | jhs

pairing: military!hobi x f. reader (ft. namjoon)

genre: slow burn ; tension ; converse high trope / smut, tiny fluff

word count: 8.6k

summary: hoseok has always had a secret thing for you and once he learns you're single, he doesn't waste time and knocks on your door. 

pinterest board: life / playlist: listen / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: mutual pining, hobi is a feet guy, mentions of a partner giving you a cold shoulder and silent treatment, strong tension, praise kink, petting, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, slight dd/lg, raw and rough sex, size kink.

note: SHE'S BACK. HOSEOKSLUNA IS BACCKKKKKKKK. HELLO, MY BABIES. I MISSED YOU ALLLLL SOOOO MUCH AND I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH THAT THIS IS SOMETHING I WROTE IN MY YEARNING TOWARDS THE END OF MY HIATUS. fuck, this is way too hot. and i, again, had to take breaks to do something :D actually, i was inspired to write this at 4 am when i landed in my country after my vacation in dubai and got the weverse notification from hobi. :) yep. he ruined me, destroyed me, and i had to start writing. ENJOY THIS FILTHHHHHH. i missed writing abt dd/lg, too.... hehe. let me know what you think. and if you mayhappsss want part two? I LOVE YOU, MY BABIES. MWAH.

Hoseok, at your doorstep bringing in the moonlight before the midnight hour, was not something you quite expected to see when you heard the bell ring. You were lounging around on your couch, clothed in your new silky pajamas that you bought to heal your wounded heart a little, along with a peachy Korean face mask, a banana vape and a vanilla candle that you lit up as soon as you exited the shower. The creamy white sheet is what you were still wearing on the planes on your face when you stood there, taken aback because the man, clad in his military uniform, was certainly not your friend that visited you often. 

Hoseok was a mutual friend. A friend of your best friend Karina… and a friend of your now ex-boyfriend Namjoon. A friend that hated your guts—a friend that could not stand you. 

A friend that would let his eyes linger a little while longer on you upon seeing you on regular night outs and then ignore you for the rest of the event. A friend that would lock his gaze on your intertwined hand with Namjoon’s before narrowing it and scoffing in a private way that you invariably saw through. 

You weren’t stupid. You knew what his deal was—it’s only that you couldn’t do anything about it. You were Namjoon’s for eight wonderful months that were splotchy with the depth of poetry. Words from his heart that would give your life meaning, keep your head up above the surface. You needed those words as you spent your whole girlhood drowning in the sea of FOMO, rowing your arms through the waves of life that never got you anywhere. Seeing the little beauty of day and night of Seoul with your friends paled in comparison with what Namjoon showed you. You always believed that your life would begin with a man by your side—you prayed for it, you waited for it and it became reality. 

But it was not the reality that your body sought in the long run. 

Yes, the sex was great. Significant to your mental development, especially to your female one as you truly did become a woman in his hands, letting the lush girlish version of you die in his palms. As well as the museums, the hikes, the dinner dates that let you in on the complexity of Namjoon’s intellect that you found so profound and full of beauty. 

But as you nearly reached a year with him, your body began to seek more. The flowers beyond the box of your relationship with him—and you knew that those petals carried the scent of Hoseok. 

He liked you. You saw it in the extremity of his purposeful ignorance towards you, in the forced hatefulness he put across, and in the distance he set as a boundary. You saw it, too, in the way he would entertain other women in the bars and glance at you every now and then to make sure you’re seeing what he wants you to see. And it excited you, his interest in you that he kept at bay. 

It was a forbidden fruit that you smelt and smelt, but could never bite into—and it drove you insane. And when he got enlisted in the military, it drove you off a cliff. 

Missing him made you search for him. Not in Namjoon, but in other men. Privately, in your soul. And it cost you your relationship. 

Namjoon was a jealous, possessive man. He would fight with you if you looked at a guy for a beat longer than is necessary and if a half of a smile crept up upon the corner of your lips, he would give you the cold shoulder. An action that cut through you deep enough to make you bleed and you had to put a stop to it. 

You thought talking to him about it like an adult would straighten the road you were walking upon, but like the intelligent man Namjoon is—he knew that what he was giving to you was no longer what you needed. He threw it back at you, using the poetry of his words, and all you could do was be honest with him. Nod your head, tell him he was right, that you were seeking something more. And what surprised you was that Namjoon wasn’t willing to go the extra mile. 

He didn’t consider it. Didn’t mention it. 

He nodded his head, too. And you parted your ways as friends who loved each other and lived an artistic life together. 

And at that moment, a door to your mind opened and Hoseok stepped in. Made a bed, fluffed the pillows, and rested. 

It seems now he has awoken. Rang your doorbell, bashed his fist against the wood and narrowed his eyes at you in his normal fashion. 

An action that weaves a rhythm into that flat, bruised heart of yours. 

His military jacket is slung over his arm. His two black dog tags, hung by a silver chain around his long neck, rattles as the breath of the fresh, autumn evening breezes past, scattering goosebumps along your chocolate-buttered skin. You notice, within the brief silence while you look at each other and exchange words long overdue, that his hair is way shorter. Not buzzed anymore like Namjoon showed you on Hoseok’s first day in the military six months ago, but tousled and sticking out in different directions as if he raked his fingers through the strands a million times over. Your own itch, wrapped around your vape, his beauty heightened by his evident newly-gained manliness washing over you like an icy stream of water. 

You shiver, blaming it internally on the wind, and not on the lightness of the attraction that you feel sinking beneath your skin, overpowering you. 

And that small movement of your body propels Hoseok to speak, at last. 

“I come home to find you single,” he scoffs, his voice deep and raspy, marked possibly by his job in the military. And you feel it marking you just the same, opening windows in the house of your body for that wind to blow in and exhilarate you, help you breathe. “He’s drunk out of his mind, crawling on Jungkook’s lap and you’re here. In your pajamas with a fucking face mask on.” 

Briefly, you furrow your brows, not understanding the meaning of his words. Is he bashing you for not crying your heart out? Or is he bashing his brother for doing whatever it was. Your heart turns halfway, painfully. Those days are gone—those you spent in bed while that broken muscle wept while your body used that time to repose from all the stress it went through, being in an environment it grew out of. 

You sigh, weary of the recollection of that peculiar pain, and show no sight of the turbulence happening within you. “Jungkook must be happy about that.” 

Hoseok chuckles, humorlessly. A chilling noise that erects your bare nipples beneath your pajama button down. Awkwardness slinks down your sternum and you shift your weight on your other foot as Hoseok deepens his gaze down on you. 

Tension settles between you and you use it. You use it, wholeheartedly, as you should have all those months ago. The only thing you ever took advantage of were the touches Namjoon graced your skin with. You’d grab his hand, while Hoseok watched, and bring it underneath the table. Part your mouth, pretending he was touching a sensitive, private place while he was merely drifting his fingers along your thigh. Hoseok would gulp, but he would keep his gaze locked on yours, very much like he’s doing now. It’s the only form of intimate interaction you ever had, save for the heated debates about different things you two did not have in common. 

All else remained hidden in the silence shared between you. 

And it no longer shall. 

If he came all the way here, unannounced, then you shall let fate, one that is enamored with your body, have her way in your life. 

“If you came here to talk about him, then I’m not interested,” you say, letting go of the door and slipping off your face mask, ignoring the hurtful pinpricks along the perimeters of your heart. “If you came here for me, then the door is open.” 

And with that bravery, you pivot on your heel and walk back into the living room, not expecting him to follow you and not expecting him to walk away. You let fate do her thing, and you begin to tap in the essence of the peachy face mask into your skin with quick, gentle slaps. 

You toss the sheet, along with the packaging, into the trash, your hair clipped away from your face whooshing around you with your movement. Kicking off your slides, you hear them bump into something stable, and when you turn around to seek that strange sound, you see Hoseok standing by your armchair near your couch. 

So he did come here for you. You tremble in a different manner, filled with sparks of excitement, and, turning around to sit on the couch, you flush, smiling happily to yourself. 

But all those feelings turn to dust when Hobi kneels by the edge of your couch and fixes your home slippers. Aligns them rightly in front of you so you can comfortably slide your feet into them once you get up. 

Your stomach drops and your fingertips tingle, all of your nerve endings set on blazing fire by that one act of service. 

The first kind thing he’s ever done for you. 

He throws his military jacket over the backrest of the armchair, where he nestles himself. Legs spread, elbows propped on his knees. His long dog tag chain swings back and forth in the sudden, atypical calmness of the atmosphere that you cannot adapt to fully. Not when your mind creates an image of that chain hanging over your face, your neck and your chest when you’re bare and ready for him, laying on your back, all for him to take. 

You bite your lip, tracing the band of your sleep sock with your fingers, and Hoseok’s eyes fall to it. You quickly lift them, sheepish. Distract your mind by opening a package of eye patches and placing them on your dark circles that just won’t leave. His gaze skims over each motion, studying it, wordlessly, and you can’t take it anymore. 

You can’t be the only one who’s brave this evening. 

You take a puff of your vape, inhaling its sweetness, and stare right back at him. A smile, a foolish girlish smile quivers upon your lips. One that you dislike because you did grow out of it, but it seems as though the more you swallow the intensity of his shadowed, violent sea-charged energy, the more you transform back into that little girl you were. 

And the process soaks your panties. 

So much is said in the silence, always has been, but you can’t stand it anymore. 

“You should start talking before I go to bed,” you bite, willing your smile to flatten, and Hoseok kneads his hands. His knuckles bear a faint memory of yellow bruises, veiny and strong as they are, and for a moment you wonder how far his ferocity reaches. 

He showed you little of it. You know he’s capable of doing things that would change you for all eternity, give you a new form that would not wither with age. 

And you yearn for it. Have yearned for it all those months without knowing that was the thing your body sought. The thing Namjoon could never give you. 

Violence. Roughness. The licks of an outraged sea. 

You’re a witness to it sloshing in the pools of his darkened eyes as he chews the provocation you uttered his way. And you can bet he likes the taste. 

“Did he break your heart?” he asks amidst the banana-flavored smoke, his knuckles whitening for a split second as he clenches his fist before relaxing—as if the thought of Namjoon breaking your heart angers him. 

It rouses you, and the way your chest lifts with each breath stimulates your stiffened nipples. The candlelight sways, casting shadows on his worn features, and you’d much rather sit on them than talk about your ex. 

“Did you not hear what I said?” you spit, throwing your vape on the cushion of your couch. Hoseok’s façade splits as he smirks, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting it back to you. 

He leans back, slouching in the chair. “Answer the question.” 

The sedatedness of his tone stuns you. Your heart begins to thump as well as the bundle of nerves between your folded legs. It has been too long since you had your release. Months upon months. And you’re too weak to not get carried away by these new feelings you’ve shamefully forgotten about. 

The veins from his knuckles travel all the way back to his arms and your brain empties out. Too, too fucking long. You should’ve fooled around with every guy you found attractive, use them for orgasms, make the best of your womanly years, but instead you dwelled at home—in and out of your misery. And now, now it feels as though you’re a virgin, alone for the first time with an older man that enlivens your body. 

And you might as well give him what he asks of you. 

Sucking on your vape for a puff of bravery, you don’t blink as you stare at him through the smoke. You elongate your legs, placing them on the coffee table next to him, your toes facing his outstretched knee, and his eyes, once again, plummet to them. 

“He didn’t break my heart, I broke his,” you say, your words shrouded by that white mist curling out of your mouth, and you watch as his eyes widen en route to yours. 

He didn’t expect that. 

Something about that satisfies you. Selfishly. 

Hoseok runs the pad of his finger across his bottom lip, his head tilted to the side a little bit. “It was about time you did.” 

The searing heat that rushes forward in your cheeks forces your gaze away from him, begs you to look away, but you don’t. A bead of perspiration trickles down your cleavage, one that is visible to him as you couldn’t be bothered to do all the buttons after your shower. But Hoseok’s eyes don’t flick to it. No, he can’t miss this. He can’t miss the gravity of the moment, of the spoken confirmation of the fact that what went on between the two of you for so long is real. You squeeze your thighs together, the thumping in between unbearable, and the longer you bask in his brave words, in the masculinity of his initiative, the more your own poetry begins to rise in you.

If it drags, it’s not meant for you. If it’s fast, it couldn’t wait to meet you. 

And Hoseok notices. It is only when you let out a little, barely hearable sigh that his eyes do travel down to scrutinize your bodily reaction. To your nipples poking through, the shine of your sweat in between your bare breasts, to the friction you’re rubbing—the miniscule grinding movements that you make in order to alleviate yourself of the ache of desperation that you feel. And because you’re baring yourself out for him, he does the unthinkable. 

He lets you see his true face, his façade collapsing at his big, sock-clad feet. 

Hoseok lifts his hips, hides behind the pretense that he’s just making himself more comfortable, but in reality he did it to turn your attention to his lower region. His length, semi-hard yet still long, stands out, protruding from the camo of his pants and you’re hot, hot all over. 

The thumping worsens—and you need him, all of him, to make it better. 

Perceiving that he’s succeeded in his strategy by the way you just won’t stop ogling him, he blushes and hides it, in vain, with outstretched fingers spread across his face. As if he was doing his signature idol move. It’s a riveting sight to behold, a seemingly cold person growing warm from you gaping at that private part of him. 

And you want more. You want to see more places of his body that are flushed. And you want it now. 

“It was about time you and I talked alone, don’t you think?” you ask, following on from his previous statement. All that pining, those stolen glances, that distance—all that tension advances forward now, stronger than ever.

Hoseok can feel it, too. At your words, his manhood grows harder and his breathing quickens. He tries to stabilize it, but he fails. He fails even when he returns to his original position with his elbows propped on his knees. That chain of his swings with more momentum, teasing you, and you place your legs even closer towards him, and upon witnessing the light flash in his eyes, you realize that you teased him right back. 

The man likes feet.

You draw in a sharp breath when he fists both of your feet in one hand, brushing his thumb over the tips of your toes. The first touch in this lifetime, the first time upon your new virgin body, so intimate, private; he might as well have wrapped a blanket around them with how warm his hand is, secure and trustful. Goosebumps flood your skin, bringing in the iciness that you felt when you took in his beauty against the background of the trees and the moonlight. And its beams must be stitched around his fingers because daintiness clasps you close, the notion that you’re taken care of, in good hands, descending upon you like the most delicate feather tickling you, and you let it—you let it consume you. 

And you let his following question consume you just as much. 

“Were you in love with him?” 

It’s a question you never had the bravery to ask yourself in the two months you’ve been single, but it is here and you welcome it. You hear it whisper to you the hint of your answer and your body is smart enough, capable enough to figure it out. 

No need for long nights of overthinking. 

No need for long hours of listening to your heart crack.

“No, I was used to him—that’s different,” you hush out and the moon lowers herself, spilling through your windows, bathing you in a milky light that feels as welcoming, as right as your confession. And maybe, just maybe it’s the way the shining stream submerges in your neediness that drives you to be bratty. And briefly, before you do, you ponder over the fact how in your life shared with this person drives, moves forward. There’s never a still time—and you find that mesmerizing. Enough for you to simply brood in greed. “What’s it to you?” 

Hoseok flinches. Parts his mouth. His chain rattles and his fingers squeeze the balls of your feet, coaxing a hum out of you that is immediately silenced by his sudden outburst. 

“What’s it to me?” 

There it is. Another plot point. Your heart hammers. 

Hoseok lets go of your feet and you lament the absence. Stands up and towers over you, the moonshine soaking him in divine light that causes your breath to hitch in your throat. A faint layer of sweat has coasted along his hairline and settled there—and you long to swim in his bodily fluids. In the persona of his, in the tumultuous sea of the tension locked within him. 

“You’re genuinely asking me this question?” he pressures, lifting your legs in order to step in between them, and the unthinkable visits you once again. He props his hands on either side of your head and those two dog tags swing in your face. 

A wet patch forms in the center of your pajamas. Your breath mirrors his—hasty, deep and strained—and you can’t take it anymore. 

How far into this road of bravery until the moon averts its opaque eyes away from your sin? 

You arch your spine, hook your fingers on his dog tags and pull him a little closer. Breathe his air, breathe in his masculine, musky scent that intoxicates your senses to the point that there is absolutely nothing stopping you from getting dragged in the natural flow of this situation. 

“Yes, Hoseok. What’s it to you?” 

He pants. Glides, delicately, his fingers along your arm until he winds up at your small fist, clutching it in his as if it was his. And that warmth, you want to dip your head in it. 

“I had to watch you sit in that chair and not crack a smile. Sit next to him like an obedient girl, not allowed to speak. To me,” he grunts, tightening his lips, and that anger of his seeps into you, becoming yours. “He didn’t deserve you. You’re not a pretty toy. You’re a person.” 

He straightens but, panicking, you draw him right back by that chain. “Don’t fucking walk away from me.” 

He seethes and you feel your essence trickling down your thigh. That sea, inching forward, you whimper. And then he spreads that warmth over the crown of your head, rubbing your hairline just once with his thumb before he peels off your eye patches that you have forgotten about. 

And this is when your brows curl. This is the time that says there’s no going back. 

“I talked to you. We fought, don’t you remember?” 

He sweeps that digit over that soaked dark circle of yours underneath your eye. “What do you think would’ve happened to you if I talked to you nicely?” 

Cold shoulder. Uncomfortable time of forced aloneness, filled with the abyss of guilt that you had done something wrong. A toy that didn’t move its lifeless limbs right by his will. 

“I’ve known him for far longer than you. I know how he treats those he thinks he loves. I brushed it away with the others, but with you… I couldn’t. You were so full of life that was stuck in you because of him. Because he didn’t let you let it out. And I can’t forgive him for that.” 

What life? The one you searched for all your girlhood, the one Namjoon molded with his own hands until it no longer recognized the once-familiar lines of his palm? The one that yearned for Hoseok instead? 

A film of tears clouds your eyes and as hard as you try to blink them away, they linger, pooling at your waterline like sea foam. You need your vape, you need him inside you—you can’t face the mirror of the reality of that unfair treatment. 

How blind you were; how Hoseok has become that guiding stick. 

“Don’t forgive him,” you utter, grasping his chain tighter, drawing him even closer, making his breath tremble. The first tear that pours out leaks into the print of his thumb and at the sound of your soft cry, Hoseok topples. Kneels on the couch with your legs on either side of him and you pull, you pull him closer. 

“Do you want me?” he asks—a foolish, foolish question. Presses his forehead against yours, cups your face with both hands now while his back shakes and you touch it, you drag your fingernails down those prominent muscles. And he sighs, so desperately, so tenderly. “Do you want me to let out that life in you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, sliding your hands underneath his black shirt, scratching the lowest part of his warm, warm waist before hooking your fingers on the waistband of his pants. It’s his—it always belonged to him. “Take me. Here.” 

He brushes his nose against yours, your breath and his singular. “You’re so feisty.” Lips nearly touch yours and your lungs give out on you, your air coming out in pathetic staccatos that make him growl, subduedly. Muscles rigid, bundle of nerves devoutly pulsing. Please, please. “But no.” 

The world implodes, the mocking shimmer of that planetary light gushing through—hand in hand with sobriety. 

But Hoseok, the prince of the unthinkable, dips your head back into that darkness. Lifts you by your armpits and sets you down on his lap, his hard length against your core uprearing your need for release. 

A hand sailing down your neck, your sternum, acknowledging itself with your respiration. “Don’t give it to me that easily.” 

Your own cages him there, right at the apex of the fleshiness of your breasts. “Jebal, Hobi.” 

Please, Hobi. You drive, in his fashion, your hips forward—ever so slightly. His eyes round at the mellow variation of his name wandering out of your mouth and wrapping around his neck, as if the gentleness you give him pains him, transforms into a noose around his vocal cords and he can’t speak. 

He sighs, the noise melting into a soft, low-pitched moan. “Don’t beg me,” he croaks out, so terribly strung out. “I’m-I’m—”

You lengthen your spine, closing your mouth over that one spot on the side of his throat that you can reach, silencing him. He doesn’t need to speak—you’re fine with the tacit language of his hands. And the taste of his skin, that fucking warmth dissolving upon your tongue, you can’t help but to moan just the same against him like that, rocking your hips awfully, awfully slowly, driving him to the point of madness that he stood at the edge of for so long. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur, tugging his hand lower to the first done button of your silky shirt and it’s him who hooks his fingers over that fabric now. You lick a stripe across the thick vein of his throat, grinding a little harder when you hear him suck in a pained breath. “I want you to feel that life in me and know it’s yours. Jebal, Hoseokie.” 

He grunts, ripping you away from him. You expect his eyes to be narrowed in that typical manner of his, but they’re not. They’re soft, round and glossy, looking down at you, unblinking. A face you’ve never seen before, that feels too, too significant—and you’re not sure if you deserve to get a load of it. Of his pinkish cheeks and downturned mouth, of his fingers agonizingly sluggishly undoing the first button of your shirt. 

Of his sentimentality that you never thought he was so efficient at. 

The sea that has remotely stilled—but you’re still riding the lenient waves, your torso curving with each button popping off as he engraves his warmth into your cold, cold skin. And once he reaches the very last one, he stops. Holds your shirt together, squishing your breasts, waiting for you to lift your head out of the sea water. 

And you do. 

He inches forward, grazing his lips against yours, making you feebly cry out. 

“Did you cry for him?” 

Your cry prolongs, vexation splattering over your arousal, and you’ve had enough of it. You flick your eyes between his, drawing back, flattening your lips in that anger of his that seems to be still flowing in you somewhere. No more, no more Namjoon; no more talk of your past relationship. It’s over, it’s over.

“Stop fucking—”

Hoseok doesn’t relent. Sinks his fingers into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck to make you listen. “Did you cry for him?” 

Your heart wept, but your eyes didn’t. The tear you shed in front of him was the only liquid emotion that spilled out of you since the day of the break up. “No.” 

He blows a heavy breath of relief that oddly validates you—and light opens in your sensitive bosom. “Good girl.” 

And it is now that Hoseok presses his chest, his dog tags against that light of yours and clamps his mouth down on your top lip, hoisting you a tiny bit to sit you right down on his manhood. His strong arm wraps around your back while the other floats down and curls around your bum, growling into the kiss that he deepens. And then he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside, and the dam breaks between your legs—as well as the quick little whines and squeaks that begin to leak out of your mouth and into his. 

The life in you throbs. 

His cock hardens even more underneath you and he pushes your clit against it, his noises and yours growing louder and louder in tandem until he’s breathless, panting so vivaciously that he needs a moment. A moment to focus on the mess he’s created of you, a glowing ball of rosiness, the prettiest of all flowers—and you feel like it, being looked at like that. 

“I knew you were smart,” he coos, peppering feathery kisses upon your cheek, jaw and chin, descending to the base of your neck. You moan out, fisting his shirt below his collarbones, the continuation of his validation for you nesting in your core. “That life in you will always win. No matter what.” 

You believe him—in fact, there’s nothing left for you to do, but to submit, submit and submit. And it feels like entering a dream that is kind, a reality that appears to be a dream, but is better. An existence smeared with clemency, where you can be a little girl again. 

“Touch it, please.” 

Hoseok hums, kissing the cleft between your clavicles. Shifts forward on the couch so you can rest your spine on the backrest, your head against the wall, and he slides his palms upward from your tummy to the apex of your breasts. You whine, torturously, at the contact, and you shudder and double over when he swipes his thumbs over your still stiffened nipples, buzzing shocks of acute pleasure coursing down your body, rooting in your clit that asks for his fingers, his tongue, but he remains where he is. Transfixed, starving, ravaged. 

He kneads your breasts like he kneaded his hands, with overpowering strength that quickens your blood flow, your body submitting to him and flushing like his does. A sliver of skin that your shirt exposes catches his attention—and at the sight of the flesh of your breasts spilling through, his cock twitches, his breath ragged, eyes droopy and so, so drunk. He pinches your nipples, still through that silken fabric, as if he was punishing you for causing him this unfair pain. 

Knead, flick, pinch. Your noises are obnoxious, his heat in you rising and rising, and you can’t take it anymore. The drum in your clit thuds and you push him away, the pleasure too overwhelming, too good and too arousing. 

And he pushes away the fabric, revealing your perky breasts. A glint settles on the edge of his irises and he gives you a coy smile before he smashes his mouth against yours, moving it in a rhythm that reflects the one in your bundle of nerves. And you grind, you grind like your life depends on it, your nipples and your pussy rubbing against him, against his icy dog tags, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm. And you would come like this had he not physically ripped you away from him. 

Heaving, he focuses, all over again, on the ruination he makes of you. The warmth in you flits so invitingly that you have to touch the places he did—your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. And as you do, you watch his gaze darken, you watch him nod his head, and wipe the corner of his mouth clean, catching his drool. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” he rasps, following the invisible traces you left on your body. Your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. “Right here. Life. Beautiful life.” He teases your hardened nub, circling it with the pads of his fingers, sliding it between his knuckles and squeezing, his smile growing with each shudder of your chest, with each response. “It’s time to make you come and let it out, you ready? Let’s take these off.” 

He tugs off your pajama pants, throws it behind his shoulder, examines the large wet stain on your panties that he coos at, raspily, petting it with his thumb—and you’re so turned on that even such faint touch like that brings you pleasure. You hold onto his arms for dear life, depending on him, trembling when the panties and the shirt are next, tossed upon the pile of your pants. 

You’re bare and he’s still fully dressed. Such titillating unfairness that turns you unhinged, maddened by liveliness your body is diffused with. 

Hoseok pins your legs back. Takes one hand and glides his fingers across your entire femininity, soaking them in the dew he has coaxed out of you, moaning gutturally. 

“He never made you wet like this, did he?” he asks, pride dripping out of him like his masculine pheromones, and with his wet fingers he palms himself. “You don’t even have to answer that. I know. I need to taste you, baby.” 

You don’t even get to fill a lungful of the stuffed, vanilla-scented air and he dives in, keeping your legs glued to your shoulders as he seizes your clit in his mouth, sucking on it briefly before he flattens his tongue all over you. He licks you like a lost man finding an oasis, humming into your heat while he tastes your personal slickness, swallowing everything he sowed. You bang your head on the wall, a numbed pang expanding all throughout your scalp by your claw clip, taking it all, moaning so loudly the whole of Seoul must be hearing you. Even Namjoon in his drunkenness, shameful that he never managed to eat you like this in the eight months you were his to consume. 

Your orgasm inches to you quickly. With half-lidded eyes, you watch the candlelight create sublime, eccentric images on his back. And as if he couldn’t handle the warmth anymore, he peels himself away from you just to take off his shirt, adding it to the pile. He doesn’t let you see his muscular body—he plunges back down, tongue outstretched, flicking the muscle on your swollen clit. He pinches your thigh, your mound, your folds, whimpering onto your flesh, hurrying to close his mouth over you to suck your clit. 

And within that divine suction, you come apart. The beautiful images on his back advance, fluttering on his smooth skin, and you hold him to yourself. The life in you explodes, saturating him in a dimmed, soft-hued, colorful light that he himself must be sensing because he moans, loudly, sinking his index finger inside your clenching hole. You can’t speak, you can’t breathe—you can only feel, you can only take. Your orgasm continues on, a ceaseless stream of delight untwisting in every part of your body. 

And when he begins to fuck you with that finger of his and hits that good spot, your orgasm melts into another one. And this time, you can’t take it. 

You shake so vivaciously that you fall off the edge of the couch, but he catches you. Hoseok unclips your hair and lays you down, propping your hips on the armrest instead and when he bends at the waist and opens his mouth, you scream out your disagreement, pushing him away. 

He blinks at you, mouth sopping wet. “I wasn’t finished.” 

Your oxygen is stuck in your throat, one that gets bespeckled with the beads of your dew. “Hoseokie—”

He traces it, wiping it off, holding you there. Presses his hard, clothed length against your bare pussy, rocking slowly, casting a private, affection-filled shadow with the arch of his body over yours. Hoseok kisses you once, a nasty kiss perfumed with your tangy scent, and you cry out. 

“The fact you can’t take the bare minimum personally offends me. He had you all to himself and he didn’t do his job well,” he mutters, squeezing your throat once. Drags his wet hand down your sternum, grasping a hold of both of your breasts, clenching them until they flush, again, like him. 

There it is, the saltiness of his sea. You yearn for the physical principle of it coating your tongue—for his cum to trickle out of the tip of it like your dew is off of his. And his words, his anger towards his best friend because of you—it heals you in a way you could never heal yourself. Another person seeing you and telling you that you deserve better, it is the most pristine form of remedy there is and you splutter on the whole beauty and compassion of it all, too weak to accept it at once. 

“That’s right,” you agree, as enthusiastically as your dopeness allows you, smiling lopsidedly, heart pounding. “Go slow on me.”

He croons, squeezing his eyes. “My little girl.” 

He buries his face in your neck, kissing you there, and along with the life in you—your heart explodes, too. The finality of your detransformation. Tears of joy ache in the corners of your eyes, the rawness of human fulfillment housing in you for all eternity. 

He kisses his way down to your breasts. “I’ll go slow on you,” he promises, darting out his tongue and flicking it over your nub, making you tremble. He straightens and dances his fingers along your thighs—up to your knees. “Do you want to stop here?” 

You shake your head. Place your feet flat on his toned stomach while you feel your dew dribble down your bum. Hoseok smiles, his mouth curving in that way of his that causes your own stomach to drop. He holds your heels, hooking his finger under the band of your socks and yanking them off. 

And his grin blooms at the sight of your dusty-pink toes, an endeared look thawing his eyes. He rubs them like he did at the beginning of this journey, keeps one at his stomach while he lifts the other one to his mouth. 

Your poor heart skips a beat. 

“Do you want me to fuck you like a little girl like you deserves?” 

He kisses the ball of your foot, doesn’t break the eye contact. Watches your mouth part in absolute astonishment and your cheeks deepen in their hue. And when he kisses it again, slower this time, it wakes you up from your stupefaction, and you lower your free foot down to his clothed cock. Hoseok groans, the sound muffled against your tootsie, shutting his eyes at the impact. Your chest flickers with a sense of pride that you made him react like that—and you want it again. You trail your toes across that length of his, but before you could reach the most sensitive part of him, he stops you. 

Sucks in that pained breath of his, red all over. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.” 

You mirror him, the idea of being capable of doing that to him pleasuring you. You leak onto the couch. Your blood boils. 

“That’s so hot.” 

He chuckles, anchoring your foot upon his heart, tapping it with your big toe. “It’s because you have my heart.” 

Your body ceases all work, as well as time. Even the candlelight pauses its dance, concentrating its caressing radiance on that chain of his. 

And you don’t think as you scurry onto your knees and embrace him, his dog tags no longer icy. He plants his nose into your hair, inhaling you, sealing you into the hug with both of his arms. Your heart reaches its own towards his and they cling to each other, too. 

And you’re not afraid to reciprocate his feelings—they’re as clear to you as that very luminescence of the vanilla candle. 

“You have me,” you whisper into his ear, his body not quivering but stable, safe. “You have my life. It’s more of a treasure than my heart.” 

He had you the moment he so evidently disapproved of your past relationship. He had you the moment he was curious to see if you were jealous when he was entertaining other women. He had you the moment he purposefully put a distance between you and him because he didn’t want you to get hurt by Namjoon. 

You just didn’t know it yet, not until clarity arose in front of you in the form of his honesty. 

Hoseok kisses your own ear, lingers there. “I want both.” 

“Then, have it.”

And he kisses your forehead. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.” 

You can see in the ivory mist of his eyes that he means it—and so you tug off his military belt as you begin to pepper kisses down the column of his neck because he deserves it, because he cares for you, because he came to you as soon as he heard that you were single. And when you reach those dog tags, the words of his title imprinting themselves onto the surface of your lips, you clasp his cock in your hand. Too big for your small fist, too warm for you to handle—

“Lay back down.” 

You bite into the flesh right above that first steel pendant while keeping your eyes locked on his. “Yes, Sergeant.” 

Hoseok curses. Wrings a sharp gasp out of you when he pulls on your hair, giving you a nasty kiss full of tongue. “Don’t call me that when I need to be gentle with you,” he scolds, sucking on your bottom lip to make it better and you disintegrate. “Right now I would bend you over this couch and fuck you until Sergeant and Sir was all you knew, but I can’t do that. Not when you’re not used to me yet.” 

Yes, the promise of the sea—you convulse from head to toe, pining after it. 

“I want that so bad.” 

He nods, marking you on your neck. You whimper and he groans in response. “And I’ll give it to you, you just need to be good now. Lay down.” 

You comply, but you take him with you—grabbing him by that chain as you arch your back on the couch. He lets you, grins at you like the utmost sunshine, but that expression of delight breaks when a certain realization dawns upon him. 

“I didn’t bring any condoms.” 

You huff out a soft noise. “Good. I want you to come all over me.” 

Hoseok hangs his head low, sighing, on all fours above you. His chain swings, drawing the memory of this very night on your breasts. He looks up at you from this position, his eyes thin slits that cause you to clench around nothing. 

“I’ll give you a big load.” 

You beam like the purest angel, in spite of the context. “Yes, please.” 

Hoseok rolls his eyes back, his façade cracking, and he beams just the same, his mouth widening in the shape of a heart that moves through you. He kisses you deeply, a long peck that breaks you down into a putty, and when he withdraws, you can still see that smile plastered on his glowing face. 

“Good girl. Such good manners.” 

And with that praise, he sheathes himself inside you. You both gasp in union, entering a paradise no other human will ever witness in the afterlife. He stretches you out, slowly, careful not to hurt you as he waits it out, petting your hair in the meantime. 

“I can feel you stretching around me, fuck. You’re so warm, so tight for me,” he rasps, panting, that smile trembling on his lips as he tries to keep it together. He straightens, pinches your nipple and you feel yourself accommodating him quicker at that sudden electricity of pleasure, at the sight of his toned body and that chain. The shine of sweat, the dance of the candlelight, the width of his shoulders and carmine chest as it heaves in desperate hums and groans. You could come just from that—and the sensation is so dizzying that your eyes droop. Hoseok notices, grappling the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Stay with me, baby, you can take this. I’m gonna make you feel so good and you’re gonna come on this cock.” 

Those hums of his cruise all the way to your mouth as he sinks that encouragement into it, kissing you deeply, pinning your hands back above your head and sliding his fingers into a celestial intertwinement with yours. They throb within you, those words of his, where they disperse all around, helping you believe that you truly can take the whole manliness of him. Your mind spins, the pressure of your shared atmosphere ringing in your ears, and he knows, he knows that you’re ready for him.

“I’m gonna start moving now. Talk to me, baby. Tell me everything you’re feeling as I fuck you,” he murmurs, unsheathing himself a tiny bit before he curls his hips forward and upwards, creating a languid, spine-tingling rhythm that replicates the waves of his sea. They slosh to and fro with every slow stroke and he kisses your good spot with the tip of his cock. Your eyes flutter open and close, rolling like those waves, but you can still see the way his jaw is clenched, his gums on full show as he seethes in his self-control, the flush of his neck and the flexing of his abdomen that you can’t help but to touch in your otherworldly daze. He stares down at you, intensely, narrows his eyelids and furrows his brows when he feels your touch, and you discover that the spot, where his V-lines lead to your antidote, is one of uttermost sensitivity. 

He moans, burying himself deep in you, and stopping there. Mound to mound, soul to soul.

“Fuck, baby, you just know where all my spots are, don’t you?” he asks, his voice so terribly strained, torso doubled over, and you grin. 

“I think I was born already knowing them,” you flirt and Hoseok pounds into you for it—a singular thrust that scrambles all your brain cells. Your smile falls, your brows crunch, your throat utters such whiny noise that he himself grunts at the sound of it, and when you lift yourself onto your elbows to see his length driving in and out of you, he pushes you right down by your throat, kissing you hard enough that it hurts.

And he alleviates the lip lock by licking over your tongue, toying with it—all while he, little by little, picks up the rhythm, fucking into you with a force that coaxes your rawest moans out of you. 

“You can’t handle my tongue and I can’t handle it when you flirt with me,” he scoffs, smacking his mouth as he turns his head, claiming your mouth, claiming you. “God, I wanna destroy you so bad.” 

Your cry is cut out by another savage thrust and you claw at that sensitive spot of his, inciting him to do it again and again. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

He pauses, the crown of his cock teasing the beginning of your heat. Sweat drips down his temple and he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that makes your heart twitch in absolute sensuality and relish. 

“Say that again.” 

Your breath hitches. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

Hoseok curses, driving into you all the way. You whine out, clenching your fists, feeling every ridge and every vein of his cock glide forwards and backwards along your walls. And by tensing your body and focusing on the delight he’s gracing your body with, the build-up of your orgasm announces its presence.

“Fuck, Hobi, you feel so good,” you cry, gripping his forearms as he begins to hold your waist steady. He jackhammers into you so viciously that your vision scatters with a creamy hue of ivory, moaning in ragged staccatos that influence you so much that you naturally imitate them, fading into him, becoming one. 

“Whose are you?” he growls without interfering with the gracefulness of his sadism, moving back only an inch before slamming back into you, bruising your cervix—and you lose all brain cells, the synapses blanking out. 

But only one thing is clear. 

“I’m yours.” 

And the following snap of his hips drives you out of this world and out of this universe. The gravity keeps your muscles tense, confining your pleasure and the closeness of your orgasm within. The ringing grows in volume and you’re on the cusp. 

Hoseok is, too, because he begins to beg. 

“Please, please, baby. Come for me. I’m so fucking close for you. Please, I’m gonna come all over you.” 

And with a scream that vibrates through the walls of your living room, you comply. Your core grips him, your skin prickles and you levitate—your back arches off the couch, aching to be closer to him, and Hoseok whines. 

Pulls out, straddles you, and fist-fucks his shaft with frantic, frenzied motions. Covers you with ropes and ropes of his cum that ripple on your stomach, your sternum and your breasts as you drift in and out of consciousness. Warm, warm essence of his masculinity that is warmer than the rest of him. 

Blood-hot. 

And you feel as though you deserved every drop. 

Deserved to see the beauty of his orgasm. The flush of his lower regions, especially. The sight you longed to see. 

Hoseok lets go of his manhood, his hand shiny and wet, though he’s still hard, reaching the beginning of your parting lungs with how big he is. Bigger than Namjoon, bigger than anyone you ever dated. Their names wither in your mind, decomposing. And they lose all meaning. 

They cease to exist. 

You’re not his best friend’s ex. You’re not anyone’s ex—

“Look at how little you are,” Hoseok comments, interrupting the surge of your maddened thoughts. He smears the puddle of cum on your stomach that his cock can reach and your pussy flutters in constant motions that ask for him again. “So little under me and all mine, aren’t you?” 

His avowal brings a fresh dose of oxygen into your lungs and you breathe it in. Want to breathe it in for the rest of your life with him. 

But Hoseok doesn’t stop there. Once you agree with him by the nod of your head and a dopey, gratified grin that casts an affirming light on him, he bends over you, his fists on either side of your head. 

“I’ll show you what true possessiveness looks like. The world will burn if it hurts you and if people say one bad word to you, it will be the last one they ever said. But they will talk to you and you will talk to them. You will learn about this life of yours. What it holds, what it looks like. And I’ll be standing beside you and I’ll watch over you. Learn it, live it with you.” 

He rubs your forehead with his thumb in a fond gesture. Looks at you with a mute meaning that touches your heart and crawls inside before he kisses you, relaxes his lips against yours, and kisses you again. 

Again and again. 

Again in the shower. Again in your bed when you’re riding him, tasting the life he let out of you, because you blazed up with desire after you washed his body. And the sex is quiet, smothered with those kisses until your mouth and his is numb. 

And again throughout the years you acknowledge yourself with that life and realize that you understand it more profoundly and clearly in the process of getting to know Hoseok than this world. 

Hoseok is that life. 

And you kiss him and whisper those words onto his mouth when you marry him at the altar, years and years later, connecting your life and his forever. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[wuaxoi]

color of love

synopsis! red velvet members as love tropes

OT5! red velvet x FEM! reader GENRE! fluff, headcanons ig TW! none ig ( tell me if im wrong ) NOW IS PLAYING! . . . color of love by red velvet

⟢ bae joohyun ᧔o᧓ 배주현

joohyun is more comfortable around people she knows well and trust, so i think friends to lovers is perfect for her. it’s important to have same interests and understanding between her and her girlfriend. she’ll probably cook for you every morning or make you a smoothie, gonna light up some vanilla candles and comfort you at night. joohyun is always ready to help or listen to everything you have to say, ready to give an advice. she’ll give you her clothes if you want. her love language is probably a quality time, so she’ll spend as much time with you as she can. joohyun’s favorite type of dates are probably home date’s or picnics in the area where you won’t be bothered by many people.

⟢ kang seulgi ᧔o᧓ 강슬기

seulgi loves travelling with her family and especially with her cousin soojin, so i’d say she’ll be perfect for bff’s sister trope. she would prefer to be in a relationship with someone who has great relationships with family and respects her family as well. seulgi is very creative and interested in art, so she would prefer her girlfriend to at least like something connected w art, she would absolutely love museum or art gallery dates. she would definitely go on a zoo date with you to see pandas together because we all know how much she adores them.

⟢ wendy son ᧔o᧓ 웬디손

wendy has a lot of talents and interests and i think she would fell for someone who has same interests as hers ( mostly ), so soulmates. she’ll probably catch your sense of humour first because that’s important for her. she loves singing together even if you can’t sing, she loves cooking and dancing to a quiet music playing at the back, that’s just so romantic for her. she would love to go to canada with you on a vacation just to visit places she liked when she was a teenager and show you her old high school. she would never adopt a pet or even buy herself a plant because she’ll definitely forget to feed it or something, but she’ll be happy to do that together w you.

⟢ park sooyoung ᧔o᧓ 박수영

sooyoung suits her stage name so well, just by looking at her you can feel happiness and love, so first love is definitely her trope. even when she was a little girl she was always so open and kind to people, she’ll always smile no matter what and she will protect people she loves. words of affirmation and caring are so important for her, even though she’ll give you twice more attention and care than you would. everyone knows that sooyoung adores dogs and she would definitely take you out on a date in a dog cafe. sooyoung loves kids, so she’ll probably wanted to create her own family with you in future and starts thinking about that after the first date, she’ll just get so excited :((

⟢ kim yerim ᧔o᧓ 김예림

yerim is very friendly, outgoing and yk extroverted introvert, so girl next door – there she is. she’s that girl who’s never alone at her house, her friends are always at her place when she’s not out with them. yeah, she loves spending time alone ( or with you ) but mostly with you lol. she would fell for someone who has the same state of mind (?) as her, same opinions and probably similar personality. a friendly girl with good sense of style probably would catch her eye. yerim sometimes overthinking a lot, so she’ll need your support and love, she would love to hear kind words from you. she would love shopping together and ohhh movie dates are her favorites!

[spiraphobia]

Shigahime by Satou Hirohisa

Genre: Action, Adult, Horror, Mature, Psychological, Seinen, Supernatural, Tragedy

Status: Completed (5 Volumes)

Synopsis:

Osamu Hirota is an ordinary high school student. That is, until Soichi, a student from the next town over, takes him to a mysterious mansion with promises of meeting a seductress. Out walks a voluptuous woman named Miwako, who, as she undresses, reaches inside of Soichi and rips out his heart! The next day, Hirota awakens. Was it all a dream? Or have we just started to pull back the curtains on this dark and suspenseful story?

I just finished this manga and wow, I was so engaged until the end. It’s definitely one of those stories that sticks with you, and I’ll be thinking about it for hours. The writing is sharp, and there were so many moments where I had no idea where it was headed.

Spoilers below.

At first, I assumed it would follow that predictable path where the MC, after gaining some supernatural powers, would evolve into a typical shounen hero, fighting for good. Thankfully, it veered far from that trope and instead leaned into its tragic and horrifying elements right until the end, which is exactly the kind of manga I enjoy.

One twist that caught me off guard was Chika’s transformation - not just the physical change, but her true nature. She ended up being far more sinister than Miwako, which was unexpected. She initially came off as the kind of character who would just worsen the protagonist's situation by being overly “nice” and somewhat annoying, but she turned out to be much darker than I ever anticipated.

As for Miwako, I hated her at the start, but as the story unfolded, my feelings got complicated. She’s a villain through and through, but her presence kept the story moving in unpredictable directions.

Soichi’s character left me with mixed feelings, especially with the questionable dynamics in the story. Then again, it’s a horror manga, so moral grayness and discomfort are part of the package. The artwork, though, was absolutely stunning - it's hard to believe I’d never heard of this author before.

Overall, it's a great manga and is definitely worth checking out​.

[llitchilitchi]

tbh I follow a lot of people hoping they will write the exact same fanfic as ive already read them write but slightly to the left this time

this is such an important reminder for any creative person telling stories

i think most of us forget that we often gravitate to the same kind of content, same tropes and AUs and scenarios, especially when we sit down to work on our own stuff and the imposter syndrome kicks in

so thank you for this

[louisianna]

I could write an entire essay (and perhaps one day I will) on how 'Furiosa' is Gothic fiction, a Gothic romance in particular, but I just need to talk about one key aspect of the relationship between Furiosa and Jack for a minute. A lot of discussion surrounding them has been about the nature of their relationship. Most people seem to love the ambiguity, myself included, and I think looking at it through a Gothic romance lens can help us understand why it works so well.

Most Gothic romances feature a heroine who is trapped inside a literal and/or figurative domestic space by a domineering man, typically a father or husband. Poor Furiosa gets both. Dementus imprisons her in the role of daughter. Immortan Joe imprisons her in the role of wife. These are restrictive domestic roles which have been forced upon her and which she cannot freely walk away from. Gothic romance is at its best when it is exposing and critiquing the cruelty of a patriarchal society and the unfair limitations it places upon women.

Furiosa evades attention by disguising herself as a boy. When Jack realises she is actually a woman, and that she is determined to leave the Wasteland, he immediately offers to help her get to wherever she needs to go. No questions asked. And what does Jack expect in return? Absolutely nothing. The trope of a good man, with experience, skill, and social standing, selflessly assisting the heroine, is quite common in Gothic romance.

Jack's words to Furiosa are never paternalistic. They speak to one another as equals. Dementus wanted to shape Furiosa in his own image, but Jack only wants to pass on what he knows. He doesn't want her to stay his protégé or sidekick. He wants her to be able to take care of herself. Until she asks him to come with her, he has every intention of letting her go her own way, leaving him behind.

Jack never comments on Furiosa's appearance. They dress as equals. Immortan Joe put Furiosa in delicate fabrics and planned to use her body for his own selfish desires, but Jack only ever touches Furiosa for her own sake. He doesn't want to possess her. He wants to protect her. He cleans and stitches up her wounds. He will place a comforting hand on her shoulder, only for as long as it takes for her to relax beneath his touch.

It's important to remember that this is a thematic tale being told to us by a History Man, a framing device which is extremely befitting of the Gothic genre. Within this legend, Jack and Furiosa's disregard for clearly defined domestic roles draws a stark contrast to the priorities of Dementus and Immortan Joe. It serves to highlight that their dynamic is free from patriarchal dominance. Whether their relationship is sexual or platonic, romantic or familial, is irrelevent. What matters is that their relationship is based upon genuine concern, deep respect, and unwavering trust. This is the lesson of their story, and it is a lesson for all to the hear. Jack does not merely represent a good father or a good husband or a good mentor. He represents it all. His character is fluid and multi-dimensional. His relationship with Furiosa is ever-shifting and all-encompassing. This allows him to be a role model to all men. But I digress from talking about Gothic fiction!

True domestic happiness for the Gothic romance heroine is only possible once she finds a companion who treats her as a peer; a social equal who gives her the freedom to choose and define the role she wishes to have in his life. It also requires finding or creating a refuge in which the heroine is safe from male power and violence. Furiosa found a more than worthy partner in Jack. Unfortunately, they didn't succeed in reaching freedom together.

Perhaps, in a less Gothic setting than the Wasteland, putting a name to what they were wouldn't have mattered so much. As it was, "my Jack" and "my Fury" was enough.

[intomybubble]

I'm just about finished with My Little Inferno, and the ML (the LI) is so pathetic omfg. I feel like I'm reading Dame na Watashi ni Koishite Kudsai due to the main leads both being fucking losers (the FL in Dame na is in a dead end relationship and is practically a sugar mommy who ends up in debt to support her BF which almost leads her to being sold into prostitution. Her attitude isn't great either). Like if I could get a hot guy to fall head over heels in love with me even after he witnesses me puking, pissing, and crying myself out of fear and getting hassled by old bullies (if only I were a BL protag bc he'd think I'm cute), I would think something is wrong with him and that I probably made it in life. The ML isn't particularly... useful. The only thing he has going for him is being cute and short, and being needy towards the LI. The LI makes for a good house husband.

Based on the cover art for the manga, I would've thought it was really dark (like Killing Stalking or Blind play) but its mostly just about cyber crime and embezzlement and sorta the yakuza (mostly mentioned, briefly seen). To an extent, this series sorta reminded me of Semantic Error, but only because of the computer stuff though. Otherwise, I sorta like the slice of life aspects. I think the crime stuff is sorta underbaked. I wish there was more risk or something to make things tense bc the only thing was ML's mom getting get info stolen and getting $300k in debt.

[gu6chan]

There's "Drakengard is problematic (so it is bad)" and then there's "Drakengard ISN'T problematic actually, it employs SATIRE so it doesn't endorse problematic content and yoko taro, who made the whole series all by himself, can't do anything wrong and isn't at all self-indulgent or god forbid, a problematic person himself" and then there's "Drakengard is problematic (I like problematic content)"

[bootlickerhawks]

reading superman up in the sky moodboard

[holybibly]

𝔗𝔬𝔬 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔩 | Wooyoung x reader

Pairing: Step Brother's Best Friend Wooyoung x Reader Summary: When the summer heat hits the city, all you want to do is lie around uder the air conditioning and do nothing. But your step-brother's best friend is showing you a whole new way to beat the hell out of the heat. Too hot to cuddle, but great to fuck. Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, f2l, fragment of life Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 5.2k Warnings: dom!Wooyoung, sub!reader, pussy drunk, face riding, unprotected sex, pet names, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, squirting and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet

A|N: Something that was supposed to be a normal unholy hour, but turned into a real little masterpiece. Written as part of the @cultofdionysusnet summer24 event. My hint: "too hot to cuddle" But, this is also a gift for you, my beautiful bunnies. There are officially more than 3k of you. I hope you all can take the heat, bunnies, for no summer swelter can compare to the hotness of Wooyoung.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing @claimmeyourprincess

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl @mingisfavgf @bunnyluvr25 @roserperfume @lose-lose07 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lelaleleb @bubblebisk @silverlight-h @ chloe-elise-2000 @cookiesandcreammy @mxnsxngie @ghostlovesworld @i-love-ateez @mingisprincesss @vampscan @peachygiku @vampqueen777 @miyaluvvsyou @oddracha

A stifling heat wave has been terrorising your city for weeks now. The heavy, white-hot air was burning on skin and settling into lungs, making it hard to breathe normally. Life in the whole city practically stopped, as everyone preferred to stay in the coolness of their own homes and don't go outside unless you have to. Unfortunately, the air conditioner in your apartment broke down just before the heat wave hit the city, leaving you to face the scorching summer heat all alone. If it hadn't been for San, who had kindly offered to let you stay at his and Wooyoung's apartment until the air conditioner was fixed, it's hard to imagine how you would have survived. 

Their place just was amazing—big and bright, with a huge kitchen and a studio lounge, which was where you were now, curled up on the couch with a cold drink in one hand and your phone in the other. But most importantly, there was a big, powerful fan pointing at you and blowing cold air onto your heated, wet skin. 

The boys weren't home; San was probably at the gym with Yeosang and maybe Hongjoong, although you weren't sure if they could get the grumpy blue-haired boy to come with them, especially in the middle of the noon heat. And Wooyoung, well, you didn't really think much of him, but he definitely wasn't home. You could tell by the absence of his loud voice, ringing through the paper-thin walls. 

And maybe it was for the best, because you had found yourself staring at him too much lately, especially when the heat had forced him to wear tight black tank tops more often, revealing more of his smooth, caramel-golden skin covered in a light, shiny layer of sweat to everyone around him. It was hard for you to admit it, but perhaps, just perhaps, you had the strong desire to lick her like candy, even though you had doubts that Woo would be sweet on your tongue. 

You were sure the heat was to blame, because you just couldn't fall in love with your step brother's best friend, even though he was so damn tempting and had that subtle but noticeable vibe of hard dominance that you were so attracted to in guys. Everything about him screamed, Daddy. And if you were asked what you thought of him, you'd even say "Daddiest." Damn it, it was all those hormones of yours that were playing up because of the long absence of sex and the heat, and maybe because of Wooyoung's all too seductive, darker fox eyes. But it certainly wasn't love, or at least that is what you wanted to believe.

You stretched out your naked legs and scrolled absent-mindedly through your news feed, completely oblivious to the fact that Woo was standing in the doorway. A soft sigh escaped from his plump lips, slightly swollen from his compulsive habit of constantly biting them, and you finally pulled yourself away from your phone and looked up at him as you smiled softly. 

When he didn't say anything to you, you tilted your head to the side in confusion, because of which the strap of your tiny top slipped off your shoulder, exposing your breasts slightly as you noticed how focused and dark his gaze was. Sometimes you couldn't make out the expressions on his sculpted face, wondering if Wooyoung was angry, horny, or focused, which made it hard for you to communicate with him. But no matter what kind of emotions Wooyoung was feeling at any given moment, it was always a pretty intense one. 

Under the weight of his gaze, you fidgeted a little in your seat and belatedly adjusted the strap that had fallen off of your shoulder. In all honesty, you were pretty scantily clad, especially in view of the fact that you were sharing a flat with two hot and sexually active guys. 

And you probably should have dressed a little more decently, but the weather was really hot as hell, and you couldn't even think of wearing anything else but a tiny silk top and the same silk shorts that looked more like elongated panties and barely covered your plump, soft buttocks. You didn't think much of it, considering the boys themselves rarely wore anything but baggy pyjama pants or basketball shorts when they stayed at home, flaunting their tight, sculpted torsos and seductive muscles. 

At the moment, however, Wooyoung was having a real interior crisis about how seductive your thighs looked and how your tiny shorts tightened around your plump booty, leaving half of your buttocks completely exposed. Your top barely covered your heavy, juicy tits and showed off more of them than he could ever have imagined. Even from his seat, he could clearly see how swollen your candy pink nipples were under the thin silky fabric. Wooyoung silently turned on his heels and went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of cold water, as if that would help him clear his mind of how thick and soft your thighs looked and how the thin strip of fabric between your legs was the only thing covering your small, plump pussy.

It was no secret that he found you attractive; even more of that, Wooyoung had found you sexy, so fucking fuckable, and he'd gotten that feeling a long time ago. Woo had never seen you before, until he and San had moved to Seoul after graduation. He only knew you nominally, because San just couldn't keep his mouth shut about his little stepsister's attractiveness. Fuck it, his buddy was drooling over you even more than he was, and once you were once a family, however briefly. But now that it was all in the past, there was nothing to connect you except decency, which was running out. He wasn't blind; Woo saw the way San looked at you because he looked at you the same way.

He'd wanted you from the second you stepped over the threshold of the flat he shared with San, and that desire grew even stronger with each passing day. Especially when you fuelled his fantasies by strutting around the house in your tiny pyjamas that barely covered your ass and perfectly contoured your cunt when you bent too low or squatted. He couldn't take his eyes off the way your breasts jiggled, barely contained by the skimpy top, as you cleaned the flat. Or the way your hard, swollen nipples showed through the thin, almost transparent fabric. Now, after a couple of weeks had passed, he could definitely tell that your nipples were a soft, deep pink colour, and your pussycat was always perfectly smooth and plump. 

But tonight... it was on a whole other level. The heat level in the city was at a hellish peak, and so was the level of sexual tension between the two of you, and considering that he hadn't had sex in a couple of weeks because of the damn heat, all of his senses were on edge. And while San was distracted from you by spending his days at the gym and running off to Seonghwa's apartment, Wooyoung had no choice but to face his temptation. 

He looked over his shoulder to find you still in the same position you had been a few minutes earlier, sprawled out on their soft grey sofa in your impossibly slutty pyjamas. His eyes slid down your body, taking in every detail—the way your shorts clung to your buttocks, the way the sweat dripped down into the hollow between your breasts, and the way you licked your lips, leaving them glistening and wet with saliva. Fuck, his cock twitched as the image of you running those very same lips over his cock, licking it like it was candy, flashed before his mind's eye. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He's in big trouble. Woo could feel his cock getting harder by the second, and there was no way he was going to make it back to his bedroom without you noticing the big bulge in his grey sweatpants. His eyes narrowed as you shifted slightly in your seat and spread your legs a little further apart so that he could now clearly see the fabric of your shorts digging in between your labia. The image of your juicy, thick thighs arranged on either side of his head as you lower your pussy to his face and rub your moist, soft folds against his tongue instantly appeared before his eyes.

"Fuck..." Wooyoung moaned loudly, and you turned all your attention to him immediately. With your mouth slightly agape in confusion and your eyes wide and shining, you were so adorable. Damn it, girl, you were just begging him to ruin you. 

"Wooyoung, are you okay?" The slightly confused, innocent tone of your voice made his cock twitch. It was already damned hard, the heavy, thick length throbbing with desire to feel the warm tightness of your cunt or the slippery wetness of your pretty mouth. 

The thought of you drooling on his cock made more pre-cum leak from his slit, coating the swollen, reddened head with a transparent glaze. Fuck, he'd give anything right now, just to see you licking up all the liquid with your naughty little tongue and looking up at him with your eyes wide open and glistening. He had to take a deep breath to keep himself from pouncing on you at that very moment. 

God knows he tried; he honestly tried to take his eyes off of your crotch and to push all those lewd and dirty thoughts of you away from him, but it was stronger than he was. There you were, right in front of him, all sweet and seductive, in those fucking pyjamas, spreading your legs for him. How the hell could he resist the urge to fuck you senseless when you were provoking him, even if not on purpose? Wooyoung was just being a man. Sue him for that. 

"It's okay, baby. It's just the heat." Yes, it was all because of the heat of your little cunt that was hidden by your silk shorts. He could almost see the little wet spot of your mucus on the thin material. God, he needs help. Where the hell's San? 

"Come sit with me; it's cooler here." You said with a flutter of your fluffy eyelashes and a slight puff of your chubby cheeks, a habit he knew you'd had since you were a child and one that drove San crazy, and it seemed he wasn't the only one. But that didn't surprise Woo at all. He and San had the same taste in everything from soju to pussy. "Please." You stroked over the spot next to you with your hand and continued to look at him with those bambi eyes of yours. 

How could he refuse you? It had all happened so quickly that Wooyoung hadn't even noticed how he had ended up on the couch next to you, with your legs touching his thigh. He spread his legs slightly to hide the bulge of his cock, but it didn't help; he was hard as a rock, his cock pressed tightly against his stomach, the reddened, swollen head almost peeking out from under his grey sweatpants. 

Your legs shifted a little, causing your shorts to rise even higher, and Woo let out a soft moan. Your eyes slid down the length of his body until they stopped at his crotch, causing you to catch your breath. You quickly put two and two together and finally realised what the situation was, and you couldn't say that it didn't turn you on. You swallowed hard and lifted your eyes back up to his face, only to find yourself immediately trapped by his dark, intense gaze. Wooyoung was literally devouring you with his eyes as the tip of his tongue was poking out of the corner of his plump lips.

"Wooyoung...you...I..." You started to stutter, particularly when you felt his hot palm come down on your thigh. His skin was slightly rough, and his touch was possessive and heavy, but it only turned you on more. "I-I...do you need help with that?" You immediately wanted to cover your mouth with your hand as soon as those words left your mouth. 

What the hell are you even thinking? Lack of sex because of the heat shouldn't be a reason to fuck your stepbrother's best friend. And maybe you wouldn't mind San fucking you too, but that's a whole other story. Right now, your brain was feverishly searching for options for escape, but the way Wooyoung's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh made you focus all your attention on the awfully sexy guy right in front of you. His tongue came completely out of his mouth, only to run it slowly across his sensual lips. He was doing it on purpose; you were sure of it because this vixen knew exactly your weakness for his lips. 

There was something special about boys with full lips; you know what they say: They eat pussy like champions, and maybe you wouldn't mind trying it out with Wooyoung.

"Mmm, how can I refuse when you offer so kindly, baby?" Wooyoung begins, squeezing your thigh harder as he moves closer to you. Your breathing becomes heavy as the thick, rich scent of his perfume infiltrates all your senses. His handsome face is now so close to you that you can clearly see the small mole on his lower lip. Oh shit, that was not good. "You have no idea how much I want to feel that mouth around my cock." The tone of his voice is husky and sultry, sending shivers of excitement through your body, or is it because Wooyoung wraps his hand around your cheek and runs his thumb over your lips? You don't even know what to say back, too lost in the feeling of his touch on you. The feeling of his hot breath on your parted lips makes your brain soft and fuzzy. God, if he kisses you, you're going to melt faster than ice and you won't be able to blame the hellishly high heat index any more. "But for now..." You whimpered softly into his mouth as his tongue slid over your lips. "I want you to sit on my face, princess, and ride on my tongue until you cum in my mouth." Your whole body felt as if it had been immersed in boiling water, the scorching heat of excitement coursing through your veins as he said this, and your hand gripped the back of Wooyoung's head, preventing him from pulling away from you.

"Please..." You whispered against his lips. Your breathing was heavy and damp, as if you had a fever, and you could feel the sweat beginning to run down your neck to the hollow between your breasts. But now you couldn't blame it on the abnormal summer heat; it was all Wooyoung's fault. He was the one who made you burn. And be that as it may, it was too hot outside for a cuddle, but it was perfect for a fuck. 

"Damn, baby, come here." Wooyoung pushed himself off of you, and you followed him, throwing your legs over him so that you were now sitting on top of him. You arch your back and press yourself harder against him, the head of his cock sticking out from under the waistband of his sweatpants and touching your clothed pussy, making you moan. "You're very sensitive, aren't you?" Woo grins, all sly and devious. There's a devilish sparkle in his dark, foxy eyes, and his lips slowly curve into a wicked grin. He lifts his hips harder, pressing the head of his cock against your cunt, greedily swallowing your needy moans as your hips jerk at the slightest bit of stimulation he gives you. Wooyoung can't wait for his tongue to plunge into your wet pussy. 

"Wooyoung..." You whine, sliding your hands down his chest and gathering the thin fabric of his sleeveless top in your fists. His skin is damp and glistening with sweat, so hot and as if lava rather than blood flows beneath it; his sugary brown nipples have hardened, and you have the urge to press your mouth to them and run your tongue around the silver metal of his piercings. Hell, how could you resist when the boy was hotter than hell?

"So needy, baby." Woo wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you up to his face to lick your open mouth. "Don't worry, Peach, I'll give you everything and more. I'll eat you until you pass out." Wooyoung says it like a promise. A statement made with all the arrogance and selfishness of a man who knows he can do it. "Let's get this off you, baby." His fingers cling to the waistband of your silk shorts, the veins on his forearms swelling seductively from tension, and the sight of them makes your mouth water. 

Hot, so damn hot, you can't resist him. Foxy eyes sparkle as he pulls the shorts off your hips, moaning deeply when he sees that you're wearing nothing under those tiny shorts. You lift yourself up slightly to make things easier for him, your hands resting on his tense shoulders, the collar of his top wide enough to expose his sharp collarbones, and you can't help but press your mouth against them, licking greedily at his brackish skin. Wooyoung tastes like summer itself: sea breezes, the bittersweetness of a piña colada, passionate beach sex under a golden sunset. You moan into his skin, clinging to his shoulders, your fingers gliding lightly over damp skin, leaving red streaks.

 "Shit..." Wooyoung throws his head back as you begin to suck, leaving a scarlet red mark on his skin. He tugs impatiently at your shorts until he pulls them completely off you and tosses them aside. His hands are immediately on your buttocks, squeezing the soft, plump flesh and pulling them wide apart. 

The cool air from the fan kisses your heated centre, and you arch up into Wooyoung's arms, finally pulling away from his collarbone only to let your tongue run down the length of his thick, tense neck. The bulging veins pulsate beneath your tongue as you lick his neck and leave sloppy kisses with your open mouth on it. 

"Mmm, I love what you do, baby, but I can't stand it any longer." He removes one hand from your arse, and instead of this tangling his fingers in your hair, he clutches the strands in his fist as he pulls your head away from his neck. You looked so fucked up already, with those swollen lips, that flushed, wet skin, and that unfocused look in your eyes. Fuck, you'd be the death of him. "So fucking beautiful." Wooyoung pulls you close to him for a kiss, followed by a hard slap on your bottom. 

"Ah...Woo..." You scream at the force of his slap and feel the tender skin on your bottom begin to burn and tingle.

"Rise." Wooyoung commands you, and you obey. As soon as you give him enough room for movement, he slides to the floor and settles between your thighs. His head rests comfortably on the soft seat of the couch, nestled between your juicy thighs, and Wooyoung practically gasps to see your wet little cunt so close to his face. His cock throbs painfully, and Woo runs his hand through his grey sweatpants, squeezing it in his palm to ease the tension. "Enjoy the ride, peach." He says as he wraps his hands around your hips, kneading the flesh and finally pulling your labia apart so that your cunt is fully exposed to his hungry gaze. 

He moans softly as he admires your beautiful pussy, so wet and swollen. It is so sticky and pink, like a ripe fruit—so sweet and delicious. Wooyoung's mouth fills with saliva, and he snarls through his teeth as he sees the thick, viscous drop of your slime dripping out of your pretty little hole. Fuck, he wants to see it all stretched out and gaping, quality fucked on his tongue, on his fingers, on his cock. He wants to fuck you stupid until you're a crying, drooling mess. 

"That's it, baby, sit down." Wooyoung gasps, squeezes your thighs until they're bruised, and pulls you down onto his waiting tongue. 

"Oh my God, Wooyoung!" You let out a loud moan and threw your head back as his tongue began to caress your pussy. His movements are skilled and expert, as he runs his long, hot tongue from your swollen clit to your hole, gathering up all the mucus that is leaking out of you and drinking it down as if it were water, and he was dying of thirst. 

Your voluptuous thighs clenched around his head, your fingers tangling in his long, silky hair, tugging lightly on the strands as you rocked against his tongue and pressed your pussy even harder against his handsome face. 

Wooyoung purred in endorsement, sending vibrations through your sensitive, heated centre, and you threw your head back, rolling your eyes in pleasure as you let out those beautiful little sobs. A beads of sweat rolled down your back as you rubbed your cunt against Wooyoung's tongue, and you could feel how your skin was tingling with the hot, lustful heat of it. The summer heat was scorching the city and causing people to avoid all touches, but right now all you wanted to do was burn up in Wooyoung's arms. 

His grip on your thighs is almost painful, and every now and then Wooyoung slaps your bottom hard, making you stifle half-sobbing and making more sticky, sweet fluid leak from your hole onto his tongue. 

"Feeling so good...shit, Wooyoung!" 

"That's it, Peach; keep moaning for me." Woo growls, pushing his nose against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders at the new stimulation, and you louder scream Wooyoung's name as you pull harder on his long, silky hair. 

He moans at this, burying his face even deeper between your thighs, his nose completely buried in your pretty cunt, the lack of oxygen mixed with the taste of you on his tongue making him dizzy, his cock twitching with excitement and leaking copiously with pre-ejaculate, leaving a wet stain on the front of his sweatpants. Your hips swayed in time to his tongue as you rubbed your wet pussy against his eager mouth, muffling his moans and growls. The thought crossed his mind: If he died now, suffocated by your sweet cunt, he would die happy. 

"Please, Woo, I want your tongue. Please, I'm so empty. Fill me up with it, Daddy. Let me feel it inside of me; I need it so much." You moan, and Wooyoung, who is more than happy to oblige you, immediately pushes his tongue into your needy hole. The wet, warm sensation makes you both moan loudly. The tight walls of your slutty cunt contract around Wooyoung's tongue, trying to hold the long, slippery appendage inside as he penetrates deeper, pushing into the silky walls, causing you to release even more mucus, which now flows freely into his mouth. 

"You're my baby girl. All this pretty cunt just for Daddy." Wooyoung moans as he kisses your pink pussy, catching his breath slightly. He feels like he's in heaven—you smell so paradisiacally, and you taste, hell, the best pussy he's ever tasted, and maybe Woo is already addicted to you. It's hard for him to let you go now that he's been in touch with the divine. 

He takes a deep breath, intoxicated by your sweet, slutty cunt, clutches your sensitive clit as he envelops it with his plump lips, starts sucking hard on it, then soothes it with lazy tongue strokes. 

"Ooooh... That, Lord..." You let out a loud and shameless moan, pulling Wooyoung by the hair and shivering with the whole of your body. You feel like you're on fire; all your senses are on edge; a sticky, tingling heat is kissing your skin. Every movement of Woo's skilful tongue as it slides between your folds is sending you deeper and deeper into a haze of pleasure. 

You're so lost that you keep riding Wooyoung's face even when he moves away to catch his breath. You arch your back, throw your head back, and spin your slutty hips relentlessly in small circles. You rub your juicy cunt against Woo's stunningly beautiful, chiselled face, smearing your slime all over his cheeks and chin. 

"I want...I want to cum. I want to be the best girl for you and squirt all over you...make me Daddy, make me cum. Please, I want it so bad." Your voice is cracked and hoarse; you're so close to orgasm. God, the hot sensation of a scalding knot of pleasure is getting tighter and tighter inside of you. Your hips begin to tremble. You lose your rhythm and let Wooyoung's strong hands guide your every move. 

"How can I refuse you, Princess, when you ask so politely? Come on, baby, let's make you squirt." Wooyoung growls before he plunges his tongue as deep as he can into your pussy, moving it around in finely honed motions as he writes his name on the walls of your tiny, stretched-out cunt. He removes one of his hands from your thigh, only to slip it between your legs and pinch your swollen, trembling clit. 

You squeal as you unconsciously bring your legs together and bury Wooyoung's face in your pussy. His fingers slide down your slit and gather up the slime before he begins to rub your clit with them in an aggressive manner as he continues to fuck you mercilessly with his tongue. 

"Yes! Yes, oh my God. Wooyoung, I'm close, I'm close. I'm going to..." Your pussy pulsates around his tongue, the tender walls clenching together, almost preventing his movement. Your vision becomes blurred, your breathing heavy and hoarse as you feel the first waves of orgasm rolling over you at an unstoppable pace. A skilful pair of tongue movements and a sudden, painful squeeze of your clit between Wooyoung's fingers is all it takes to send you over the edge. You let out a loud squeal as your orgasm completely overwhelms you. 

A stream of warm liquid fills Wooyoung's mouth and, despite his best efforts to drink it down, runs down his face and down his neck. Your delicate body shudders over him, your eyes rolling as the pleasure rips through your exhausted body. Your orgasm is so intense and overwhelming that you lose touch with reality for a few minutes as Wooyoung continues to prolong your orgasm, twisting his tongue inside you. 

Exhausted, you lean back against the back of the couch and press your forehead, drenched in sweat, against the cool leather of the upholstery. Woo is licking his lips greedily, trying not to miss out on a single drop of your sweet juices. Ignoring his throbbing cock for this moment, he slowly climbs out from under you to help you. You sink onto the couch with your bare bottom, completely exhausted, and lean back against the soft upholstery as you tiredly cover your eyes, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

Your eyes only open when you feel Wooyoung's strong hands spread your thighs again so he can have a look at your beautifully gaping cunt, still oozing with a mixture of his saliva and your sweet mucus. Woo leans over to you, only to press his tongue against your pussy once more and lick a long strip of it from your hole all the way to your flushed clit. You moan and push his shoulder, trying to get him to move away from your all-too-sensitive centre.

"Please... I can't take it anymore." You whine, and Wooyoung just grins at you. He crawls up the length of your body and wraps his fingers around your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

"You're so sweet, baby, I think I'm addicted. What are you going to do about it?" He whispers against your lips, and maybe if you were in a different situation you'd give his words more meaning, but instead you run your fingers through his sweaty hair and pull him to kiss you. You moan loudly, tasting yourself as his tongue enters your mouth, and you let Wooyoung lick your mouth on the inside completely. 

When the kiss ends, you both take a moment to catch your breath. You lazily run your hands over his shoulders and back, feeling the fabric of his shirt clinging to his sweaty, heated skin. You probably don't look much better, just as sweaty and sticky as Wooyoung. 

"Woo," you say, and he lifts his head to look at you with heavy, half-closed bedroom eyes. 

"Mmm, what is that, Peach?" He starts to plant light kisses on your jaw, his lips still sticky with your cum.

"We need a shower; we're fucking disgusting." Your fingers run lazily through his hair as Wooyoung continues to kiss you.

"Fucked up, baby. We're fucking fucked." He corrects you. "But you're right, Peach, we need a shower." He gives you one last peck on the lips and gets up. "And maybe..." His voice trailed off, and you turned your head to the side in confusion, peering out from behind the back of the couch. 

Your step brother is leaning against the doorjamb, looking at the two of you with his beautiful cat eyes. His lips curve into a smile, revealing the deep dimples in his cheeks. San looks absolutely stunning, a perfect five-course meal; he's clearly just finished his workout, judging by the way his damp t-shirt clings to his perfectly sculpted body. Oh shit...

"Um, welcome back, Sannie..." You say awkwardly, already berating yourself for the stupid thing you just said. You cross your legs, trying to cover yourself, but it only draws his attention to your condition.

"I see Woo has taken good care of you in my absence; haven't you, Peach?" He asks, slowly walking over to you and Wooyoung as he pulls his sweaty t-shirt off over his head and exposing his perfect abs. 

Oh shit. 

Wooyoung laughs, takes your hand, and lifts you up, pulling you towards her, giving San a perfect view of your bare bum. You cringe, not knowing how to react in this situation, until you feel San's hot body pressing against your back, his broad palms resting on your waist. 

"Mind if I join you in the shower, princess? I don't think you look fucked enough, baby. We need to fix that right now, don't we, baby?

[milliumizoomi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐄...

☆彡SUMMARY.; Things I believe he would do in a relationship that you’d (us.. all of us..😭) would find attractive

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO ARETAS x READER

☆彡TROPE.; Established Relationship

☆彡FORMAT.; HEADCANON

☆彡GENRE.; FLUFF + SUGGESTION + A TINY BIT OF ANGST

☆彡WARNINGS.; mature language, mature actions, a lil bit of Armando’s toxicity shining thru, brief mentions of choking (not in like he’s gonna kill u type of way😭) brief mentions of violence, a little bit of spoilers ahead.

☆彡NOTES.; heyyyy thank u guys SAURRRR much for the love on the last Armando work I posted, I’m glad so many of yall liked it and I will continue to post and write about him 🫶🏽. (And yeah I took that picture on the middle so be free to save.. cause whew lord..). I hope you guys enjoy this one😛💕.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🫶🏽.

[IN PUBLIC]

✬ Armando would keep an eye on you, especially since he’s not a very trusting person to most

✬ He’s like very aware of the space you’re both in so he’d keep you at least within arms reach of him if it’s just a regular kind of day

✬ And he’d also do that thing where if he wants you to move, he’ll grab your waist and either shift you to where he wants you to do, or he’ll do that just to pass behind you

✬ And he a quiet person so instead of using many words, he just stares and expects you to know what he’s thinking

✬ If a situation arises where you’re doing something that he thinks you shouldn’t be doing, he’ll simply clear his throat and stare and he knows you should know what he’s thinking

✬ also this man has no filter whatsoever, so if you’re talking, it doesn’t even have to be to him, you could be taking to his dad or something and he’ll just blurt out some of the most insane stuff in either Spanish or English

✬ (like he did to that girl when he called her fine)

✬ like if you say “im so hot” on a day when it’s scorching outside he’d def say stuff like “I definitely agree” or some shit like that just to embarrass you

✬ He’d also stare at your lips while you’re talking to him, especially if you’re mad at him

✬ and openly stare at your body too

[ON CASES || MISSIONS]

✬ you don’t even have to be in a relationship for this one but just watching him fight

✬ Each movement of his is so effortless and he just looks good each and every time

✬ He’d also probably see you staring and raise an eyebrow at you and tell you to pay attention

✬ would tease you on missions definitely

✬ especially if it’s a mission together

✬ only a bit tho cause he’s very focused on missions

✬ makes you be his backpack on his motorcycle

✬ he’d adjust your hand to where he wants it when riding the motorcycle

✬ drives it with one hand and occasionally taps at your leg with the other

✬ and if he has time, he’ll teach you to fight like he does

[IN PRIVATE]

✬ in private he’s definitely an attitude fixer

✬ if you do something to piss him off he’ll probably just stop talking all together until you apologize

✬ when that happens tho he furrows and raises his eyebrows a lot while clenching his jaw as a way to not get too annoyed with you

✬ curses in Spanish a lottttt

✬ and when you’re being bratty or rude to him, he’ll literally grab you by the neck and bring you real close to his face then say in your ear “arregla tu actitud antes de que yo la arregle por ti..” (fix your attitude before i fix it for you..)

✬ ofc he’d do that in public too

✬ I feel like he’d be a bit clingy when alone because he doesn’t like pda, so he waits until it’s private and will literally grab all over you

✬ he cooks shirtless (idc it’s true and yes he can cook🤚🏽)

✬ has told you the most mundane every day things in the sexiest voice ever

✬whistles when you walk in a room

✬ and slaps your butt regularly (sue me ik he does🤚🏽)

✬if you’re sleeping in the same bed there’s only two places he’ll sleep, on your butt or on your stomach (no in between 🤷🏽‍♀️)

✬ uses that same condescending voice on you to tell you what to do, when you’re wrong, or to stop acting up

eugh I love him sm🥹

[jaylaxies]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

PAIRING: haechan × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 10k words

SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party. 

It felt good to be back. 

Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party. 

“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same. 

Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”

Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long. 

Settling down wasn’t their forte. 

People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once. 

“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having. 

“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act. 

He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.

“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?” 

“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door. 

The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door. 

It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap. 

“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”

Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned. 

“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked. 

Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night. 

“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them. 

“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”

“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was. 

“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way. 

“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed. 

“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious. 

“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added. 

Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin. 

“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more. 

“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed. 

“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided. 

“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added. 

Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way. 

It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark. 

Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation. 

Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again. 

In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits. 

You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss. 

Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top. 

“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him. 

You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey. 

You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again. 

With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with. 

While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun. 

It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee. 

Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while. 

Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you. 

Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too. 

That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight. 

Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough. 

The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure. 

A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle. 

He had to have you. 

You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat. 

What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games. 

“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school. 

“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down. 

You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you. 

“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused. 

Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally. 

Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here. 

Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends. 

Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line. 

He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes. 

You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk. 

For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—

Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly. 

“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short. 

“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house. 

“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”

“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked. 

“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected. 

“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face. 

“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested. 

“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys. 

“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate. 

“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it. 

Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark. 

“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”

“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly. 

“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck. 

Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 

Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—

“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”

“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous. 

“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark. 

“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips. 

“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.” 

You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead. 

She was packing as you were speaking. 

In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you. 

There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all. 

“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment. 

“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes. 

“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?” 

“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”

“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no. 

She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place. 

Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”

As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation. 

Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip. 

Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away. 

Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs. 

It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan. 

He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel. 

The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception. 

“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned. 

The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings. 

And he kick-started it by calling you darling. 

“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck. 

His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way. 

“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”

An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked. 

He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it. 

“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed. 

“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings. 

The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact. 

His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you. 

He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand. 

It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat. 

Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation. 

“How was school?” He asked after a while. 

The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer. 

The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view. 

Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you. 

The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts. 

You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement. 

The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful. 

“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage. 

The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact. 

You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls. 

“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out. 

She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready. 

The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you. 

You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties. 

Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing  right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild. 

Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy. 

Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally. 

Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be. 

Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. 

This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd. 

“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink. 

His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck. 

Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan. 

If he’d bother to look your way, that is. 

“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused. 

That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves. 

Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot. 

His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions. 

Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face. 

Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore. 

Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him. 

He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body. 

You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so. 

The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony. 

Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply. 

“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other. 

The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly. 

“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye. 

You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest. 

“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided. 

You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask. 

His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 

They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage. 

He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe. 

“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”

That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close. 

So close to kissing you. 

Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention. 

“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room. 

The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention. 

Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said. 

Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked. 

“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently. 

“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call. 

He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to. 

“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner. 

“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.” 

The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again. 

Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.  

The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them. 

“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot. 

Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly. 

You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three. 

“Can I have a taste?” You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes. 

The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way. 

“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure. 

In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”

You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this. 

“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked. 

“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally. 

“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.  

“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it. 

“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him. 

“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said. 

“It’ll be fun.”

“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.

“It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you. 

“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar. 

“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate. 

Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to. 

“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily. 

“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him. 

“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”

It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move. 

“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked. 

“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water. 

Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water. 

“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene. 

Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone. 

Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold. 

Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight. 

You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame. 

He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun. 

Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour. 

“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion. 

He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes. 

“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours. 

“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again. 

“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face. 

Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable. 

“I’ll take care of it.”

It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining. 

Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about. 

Lee Haechan. 

You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you. 

You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.

Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—” 

“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you. 

He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden. 

There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever. 

“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for. 

He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time. 

Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap. 

He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing. 

Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin. 

“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly. 

He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours. 

“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere. 

He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”

“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch. 

“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested. 

You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized. 

“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted. 

“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him. 

“Let’s find out,” you mumbled. 

Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own. 

The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches. 

Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured. 

He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure. 

“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it. 

You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most. 

“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit. 

It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself. 

Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded. 

“It’s yours—all yours!”

“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life. 

It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt. 

“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you. 

Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you. 

His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper. 

“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up. 

Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow. 

It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock. 

This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder. 

“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further. 

“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.

It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek. 

“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly. 

He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours. 

“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered. 

“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber. 

Hurt. 

That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark. 

With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles. 

Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly. 

“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck. 

“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger. 

Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?” 

Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that? 

“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”

Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out. 

You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now. 

So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems. 

You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back. 

Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night. 

The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up. 

“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you. 

Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep. 

Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses. 

“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily. 

“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening. 

“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?” 

Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry. 

Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again. 

You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course. 

Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there. 

He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down. 

The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck. 

You couldn’t avoid him after all. 

“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay. 

“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”

You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt. 

“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 

“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath. 

“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks. 

“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious. 

“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown. 

“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken. 

“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”

You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face. 

You really wanted to kiss him. 

“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.

You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger. 

He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you. 

“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips. 

He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?” 

You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try. 

Yet another problem lingered in your mind. 

“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.

“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched. 

“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other. 

“Fuck, hide!”

Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

TAGGING: @ajayke-reads @jenoslutie @jjaeyuns @heesuncore @celeste-hoon

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[ncttytrack]

can you do reader giving daddy jake a head while jake is in front of his computer desk having a meeting with his colleagues 😵‍💫

Thank you so much for the request anon!! I don’t know if you meant daddy jake as in husband, or stepdad Jake…step dad Jake sounds hotter so I wrote about that hehe.

Daddy’s girl - s.j

All over the screen it was stepdad-stepdaughter related porn, full on display for you to see. And by the looks of it, Jake had already watched the majority of the videos.

Genre: Stepdad!Jake x reader

Words: 3k+

Warnings: Age gap, degradation, Jake is a creep lmao, dom!Jake, sub!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You’ve always thought that Jake and your moms relationship was great. You never really knew your dad and growing up without a father figure was therefore difficult for you. That was until she met Jake. Jake married your mom when you were sixteen years old, four years ago to be exact, and it was nice to have Jake as the father you never really had. He really took care of you, making sure to give you the childhood you never really got. 

You had always thought Jake was attractive, like, how could you not. With his perfect smile, kind eyes, and soft lips, Jake was everything you liked in a guy, except for the fact that he was your “new” dad. It was fine until you became legal of age, it was like something happened the day you turned eighteen. 

Every occurrence with Jake at home became weird, from the way he looked at you, to the way he would talk to you, to the way he would sneakily touch you every chance he got. Everytime you felt that someone was looking at you, you would turn around and meet Jakes gaze, shamelessly looking up and down you frame - taking in your appearance in not-so-innocent ways. The way his tongue would grace over his bottom lip, and his eyes would darken when he stared at you a little too long would send shivers down your spine, making you always look away. 

Fuck, and you kinda liked it too. The step-dad trope growing on you because of Jake, sometimes even purposely buying Penelope Douglass books about fucking fathers to calm down the urge you felt every time you saw him. But you couldn’t go behind your moms back, that would be horrible and so morally wrong. Finally she was happy - how could you destroy that?

Today was Thursday, and your mom was at work. Jake usually works from home, having zoom-meetings by his computer desk in his office. Because you want to be a nice step-daughter, you decided that you wanted to fix something for him, hence why you are holding a plate with chopped fruit heading towards his office. You feel your face heaten up as you get closer to his office. Even after four years you never got the courage to visit him when working at home, too embarrassed to be alone with him - especially in his work clothes. 

Jake in his work clothes was something…else, you could say. If you thought Jake was attractive, then Jake in formal clothing was absolutely irresistible. He would always wear black suit pants, along with a white button-up. His shirt would always be rolled up at a perfect height, allowing you to sneak glances at his arms while making his coffee between zoom-meetings. And sometimes he even wore a god damn tie. Oh god when Jake wore a tie you could not take your eyes off him. Shamelessly you would always watch him at home, greeting your mom - welcoming her home after a long day at work, while loosening up his tie with one hand, showing off his skin in the prosses.  

When walking into his office, you noticed that he was nowhere in sight. Maybe he went to the bathroom? Well, you could just leave the plate on his desk, and Jake could thank you later, hopefully out of his work-outfit. 

You walked up to his desk to put the plate down, and couldn’t help but to look at his computer. You were always nosy, and just wanted to have a small peak on what your step-dad was working on. 

But the things on his computer make you let out a loud gasp, accidentally dropping the plate on the desk - making half of the fruit fall from the plate. 

All over his computer, there was porn. Porn everywear. He was watching porn, not working. You hastily grab the computer mouse, scrolling through the site. Omg. And it wasn’t just any porn, it was porn related to you. 

All over the screen it was stepdad-stepdaughter related porn, full on display for you to see. And by the looks of it, Jake had already watched the majority of the videos. 

You looked around the office to see if Jake had noticed you watching his screen, before hastily sitting down on his chair. Your heart was beating loud in your chest while you continued to watch the lewd pictures displaying on the screen. What if he sees you in front of your computer? What would he say? 

Embarrassed, but too curious to not continue, you scrolled through all the videos he had watched.

Step daughter, fucked roughly by her step dad while mom is home

Step dad fucking his step daughter while mom watches 

Step daughter begging her step dad to fuck her on his desk

The room was quiet, and the horrendous titles made you unwillingly clench your thighs. Did Jake watch these videos thinking about you? Wonder which one is his favorite, the desk one maybe? Nonetheless, you clicked on it, watching the video load on the screen in front of you. You bite your nails nervously while the video in front of you still loads, looking up from the computer screen to look around for a second time to make sure that Jake hasn't caught you. 

When the video started playing, you instantly became mesmerized by the filthy scene. You couldn’t stop watching it, seeing the way the daughter was crying for her stepdad's cock on his desk made your pussy clench, already feeling the wetness forming between your legs. Your breaths got heavier and heavier, intensely watching the stepdad get his way with his stepdaughter, ramming his massive cock in and out her absurdly tight pussy. 

You lean back against his soft office chair, massaging your thighs up and down with your hand, teasing yourself, before softly grazing your fingers on your wet pussy over your jeans. You can’t help but let out a small moan, biting your lips to hide the sound escaping your lips. 

Before you could open up your pants, finally giving in to the excitement you are feeling, you suddenly see someone in the corner of your eye. You let out a surprised scream when you see who it is. 

It’s Jake. Shit. How long had he been standing there? 

Jake is leaning against the doorframe, smirking when he sees you sitting by his desk, obviously watching one of the porn videos on his computer. He is still wearing his office clothes. Fuck. And even his stupid black tie. Damn you are really fucked. 

The smirk on his face makes you even hornier, clenching your thighs - something that doesn’t get unnoticed by Jake. “Why are you surprised, baby? It seems like you were enjoying yourself, didn’t think my sweet step-daughter was so naughty” 

You quickly jump out from his chair, backing away while shaking your head, hands in front of your chest to deny his accusations. “I-Im sorry I was just curious- I- I’m leaving now” You say, trying to walk past him before you can feel his hand grabbing your arm. You look up at Jake, and he almost looks angry, his smirk replaced with a stern face. “Where do you think you are going, do you think you can snoop around on my computer without permission, without some sort of punishment?” 

Jake was staring down at you, his grip on your arm beginning to hurt because of his strength. You shake your head again, looking up at him with big eyes, trying to ignore the arousal his harsh words give you between your legs. “Why were you in my office in the first place y/n?” He still holds your arm with his hand, the other now holding your waist, keeping you in place close to him. 

“I-i was just”, you try to form a sentence but you're too embarrassed by how close he is, even being able to smell his coffee breath. You glance over your shoulder to look at the apple bites you cut, still all over his table from when you dropped the plate. Jake looks in the same direction before a smile forms on his face. 

“Aw, baby, did you prepare those? For me?” He says, while tilting his head, his tongue grazing over his lips. If he wasn’t your step-dad, your moms husband, then you would really want to kiss him right now. As long as Jake doesn’t take another step, you could maybe resist him. But by the looks of it, backing down is not part of his plan. 

A hand still on your arm, he drags you to his office chair, sits down while pulling you with him - making you sit on his lap. You feel his cock against your inner thigh, already hard probably from watching you almost get off earlier in front of his computer. You watch as Jake's hand leaves your arm, picking up on the apple bites on his desk, before bringing it up to your mouth.

 “Open up” he says, poking your lips with the fruit. You obligate, opening your mouth - letting yourself be fed by Jake while sitting on top of him. You wrap your lips around the apple slice and take a bite. 

The way Jake was looking at you eating from his hand could only be described as predatory, his mouth letting out heavy breath from arousal. “Does it taste good, baby? hm?”. With the apple slice still in your mouth, you are unable to answer with words, nodding your head up and down. He lets out a small chuckle, while caressing your cheek with his hand, when suddenly he grabs your jaw. 

“Maybe I want a taste too”, he says looking down at your lips before hungrily kissing you. While he roughly kisses you, playing with the barely-there-apple bites in your mouth with his tongue, his hand sneakily rises up inside your shirt. You moan both at the feeling of his hand nearly touching your boobs and at the feeling of his cook against your clothed core. You feel Jake’s smirk against your lips when hearing your erotic sound, his hand suddenly grabbing your waist to push you further down on his bulge. You stop kissing him because of his actions, looking at him with pleading eyes. 

“Fuck, we can’t do this Jake” You really were pathetic. Your words were saying something, but the way your hips were grinding back and forth on his hard cock, mouth agape, forrowed eyebrows just begging to be fucked was signaling something else. You tried to sound so innocent, but really you were just a cock slut. 

“Maybe, but you are making it way worse when you grind like that on your step-dads dick like a slut” You were so cute, your movement in combination with how desperate you look makes him harder and harder every second. He leans back on his chair, and admires your state, grabbing a part of your hair to play with between his fingers. 

“But you’re right, we shouldn't” His words almost make you disappointed, you can’t lie. You kinda wish he got his way with you like in one of the porn videos he was watching. He cups your cheek and you lean into his touch, feeling up his rough hands against your soft skin. He shouldn’t, really shouldn’t, but he can’t resist you. “I know something else you could do”

He suddenly pushes you off of him, and grabs your shoulders - pushing you further down until your knees hit the floor. You look up at him with a confused stare, while Jake opens up new taps on his computer, erasing the porn that before was on screen. “Don’t let out any sound while you do it” He couldn’t mean, could he? “We don’t want my colleagues to find out my step-daughter is sucking me off, don’t we?” He says, now looking down on you between his legs, his eyes hooded and lips red from the kiss. 

He turned his concentration towards his computer, calling up his colleagues for a “spontaneous” meeting. The thrill of maybe getting caught with you makes his dick twitch, causing Jake to let out a moan at the thought. 

Jake looked like a mess. Messy hair, red cheeks, a hand on his cock - massaging it while looking intensely at his computer. His shirt was almost unbuttoned - showing off his chiseled stomach and his tie was hanging loose from his neck. Oh you wish he could use the fabric to choke you, drag you around holding it like a leash.

“Be a good girl now and please your daddy, alright?” He says while unbuckling his belt, right before unbuttoning his pants - pulling them down alongside his boxers in one go.

His cock was massive, to say the least. His tip was red, leaking with preecum - and it almost looked like his cock hurt from how hard it was, begging to be sucked. Jake, already starting his meating, sneakily looked down at you and whispered. “Like what you see baby?”, using his hand to squeeze the top of his cock, making more preecum leak out from the tip. 

Your mouth was watering, softly touching the veins on his cock, making Jake let out a hiss - grabbing his dick to slap it on your cheek. “Start sucking, slut. And don’t you dare tease me”, he says as quietly as possible, trying to not make his coworkers grow any suspicion. He looked up again at his computer screen, smiling enthusiastically when one of his coworkers started to speak, while guiding his leaking cock between your lips. 

Because of his growing impatience, he wastes no time to push his length into your mouth. The feeling of his hard dick into your soft mouth makes him lean back against his chair, glancing down on you. He has to see what you look like with his cock in your mouth. He lets out a small groan when he sees the way you look up at him back, big innocent eyes while your mouth slowly works up and down his length - trying not to gag. Fuck. How could you look at him like that, while having his cock in your mouth? 

His cock is almost too big for you, making you use your hands to jerk him off at the base of his cock. When he sees your small hands trying to fit around his girth, he almost lets out a loud enough moan for his co-workers to hear. You were so cute, really concentrating to please him just the way he wants to be pleased, making sure to not leave a single inch untouched - either pleased by your hand or your mouth. 

Jake has to cover his mouth to muffle his moans, his hips starting to thrust up - fucking your mouth to get closer. This causes you to gag every time his dick hits deep down your throat, tears beginning to form in your eyes. 

When Jake looks down on you, he almost loses his breath. Saliva was running down from your mouth, using it to lubricate his dick to make it easier for him to go deeper into your mouth. The tears forming in your eyes are now sliding down your cheek, your makeup getting completely destroyed because of him. He completely destroyed you, and you let him, and he can’t wait anymore. 

“Uhm, Jake? Are you okay?  Your face is completely red and you're sweating, are you sick?” Fuck, fuck, fuck. If Jake doesn’t come up with a pathetic excuse, then they will definitely know that the reason why he is red and sweaty is not because he is sick - but because he is getting head by his step-daughter. He tries to answer without letting out any suspicious sound.  “I-ah” Shit. 

“Are you hurt Jake?” His other co-worker asks, looking generally concerned by his moan. He glances down at you. The last thing he is right now is hurt. When you see Jake look down at you, you smirk up at him, suddenly deepthroating his dick - every inch of it inside your mouth, down your throat. Jake begins to internally panic of this, are trying to get him caught?

“I-I need to go”, Jake says, and without letting the others answer, he turns off his computer to give his full attention to you. 

He grabs your head and pushes your face down towards his cock, making you let out a painful cry. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so warm.” He throws his head back against his chair, still holding your head down on his cock to make sure you gag around him, almost getting harder from the pathetic sounds you let out. 

He finally pushes your head back, letting your breath for a second before slamming his cock inside your mouth again. This time, however, he doesen’t wait, but continues to fuck in and out your mouth. “You like this huh? Sucking your step-dads dick in his office like the little whore you truly are?” His words are completely degrading, but the way he says it makes you even wetter, disgustingly grinding on the floor to feel some sort of friction. 

“Yeah, grind your pussy on the floor slut” He says, the pace he fucks your mouth getting faster the closer he gets to cum inside your mouth. You know he is close by the way his moans get louder and louder, his eyes completely shut from pleasure. “F-fuck, baby, I’m cumming” Jake says, shoting his load inside your mouth. 

He grabs your hair, causing you to wince with his cum still inside of your mouth. He looks at you and licks his lips. "Swallow, all of it” You do as he says, feeling his cum slide down your throat, opening up your mouth for him to see that every drop of his cum was now inside of your stomach. 

Jake leans back on his chair, manspreading, and puts both of his hands on his thighs. His cock is already hard again on top of his stomach, seconds after getting sucked by you. He slaps his thighs and tilts his head to the side, looking at you. “Did you think it was over? Now come here baby and ride daddy's dick”

[its-avalon-08]

max, jealous trope, ferrari driver, she is laughing with carlos

grumpy lover boy (mv1)

✦ pairing - max verstappen x female!driver!reader

✦ genre - jealousy, playfulness, fluff

(i adore this man so much, im dying)

The paddock was alive with energy and excitement as fans and teams buzzed about, preparing for the upcoming race. Max Verstappen stood by Red Bull's garage, his eyes scanning the crowd. He caught sight of his girlfriend, Y/N, across the way at Ferrari's setup, chatting animatedly with her teammates, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.

Max and Y/N had kept their relationship a secret from the public eye, preferring to avoid the added pressure and media scrutiny. It wasn't easy, especially with both of them being high-profile drivers, but they managed to make it work.

As Max watched, Carlos said something that made Y/N laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh that lit up her face. She playfully grabbed Carlos's hand in the midst of her laughter, and Max felt a sharp pang of jealousy.

He clenched his jaw, his mood instantly darkening. Daniel Ricciardo, noticing the change in his friend's demeanor, sidled up to him with a smirk.

As Max continued to watch Y/N laugh with Carlos and Charles, his grumpy demeanor grew more evident. Daniel couldn't resist poking fun at his friend.

"Mate, you're glaring so hard, I'm surprised the Ferrari garage isn't on fire," Daniel said with a chuckle, leaning casually against the wall beside Max.

Max grunted, not taking his eyes off Y/N. "She's just laughing at his joke. It's no big deal."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Sure, no big deal. That's why you're standing here looking like someone just stole your lunch."

Max shot him a look. "I'm not… okay, maybe I am a little jealous. But can you blame me?"

Daniel laughed, clapping Max on the back. "Oh, I don't blame you. It's just funny seeing you all whipped. Never thought I'd see the day."

Max rolled his eyes, though he couldn't hide the small, begrudging smile. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

"Seriously, though," Daniel said, his tone softening a bit. "She really does have you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she?"

Max sighed, his gaze softening as he watched Y/N. "Yeah, she does. And I'm fine with that. Just wish I didn't have to watch her being all friendly with Carlos."

Daniel smirked. "Well, look on the bright side. At least it's Carlos and not someone like… I don't know, Lewis."

Max groaned at the thought. "Don't even joke about that, Dan."

Daniel chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, mate. She's yours, and everyone can see it—even if they don't know it."

Max nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. "Thanks, Dan."

"No problem," Daniel said with a wink. "Now, let's get back to work before you burn a hole through Carlos's head with that death stare of yours."

Max finally tore his gaze away from Y/N, shaking his head with a smirk. "Alright, alright. Let's go."

As they walked away, Max couldn't help but glance back one more time, feeling a mix of jealousy and adoration for the girl who had him completely and utterly whipped.

(jumping to carlos and y/n)

Carlos noticed Max's intense glare from across the paddock and shifted uncomfortably. He turned to Y/N with a concerned expression.

"Y/N, did I do something to upset Max?" Carlos asked, his eyes wide with worry.

Y/N followed his gaze and saw Max glaring at them, his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, you didn't do anything, Carlos. He's just being a bit… overprotective."

Carlos let out a sigh of relief, though he still looked a bit uneasy. "Are you sure? Because he looks like he's ready to come over here and punch me."

Y/N chuckled, giving Carlos a reassuring pat on the arm. "Trust me, it's nothing. Max is just a little jealous, that's all. He'll get over it."

Carlos's worried expression softened into a smile. "You two are really cute together, you know that?"

Y/N blushed slightly, glancing over at Max who was still sulking. "Thanks, Carlos. It's not always easy, but we make it work."

Carlos grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "I don't know how you manage to keep it a secret with how obvious he is sometimes."

Y/N laughed again, the sound light and cheerful. "I guess we just have to be careful. But it's worth it."

Carlos nodded, giving her a supportive smile. "Well, if you ever need any help keeping the secret, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Carlos. I appreciate it," Y/N said, genuinely grateful for his understanding.

Carlos glanced over at Max once more, then back at Y/N with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe you should go over there and give him a little reassurance. Before he starts plotting my demise."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, maybe I should."

As Y/N made her way over to Max, Carlos watched with a smile, glad to see his friend happy—even if it did mean occasionally dealing with a very grumpy and jealous Max Verstappen.

(cuteness incoming)

Y/N made her way across the paddock toward Max, her heart warming at the sight of his grumpy expression. She slipped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back.

"Hey, you," she said softly.

Max stiffened for a moment before relaxing into her embrace. He turned around, his eyes locking onto hers, and without a word, he cupped her face and kissed her passionately. Y/N melted into the kiss, her arms sliding up to wrap around his neck.

When they finally broke apart, Max rested his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy. "You have no idea how much I needed that," he murmured.

Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on the back of his neck. "Feeling better now?"

Max huffed, his grumpy demeanor still lingering. "A bit. Just… don't like seeing you so close with Carlos."

Y/N chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You know there's nothing to worry about, right? It's just you and me."

Max sighed, his arms tightening around her. "I know. I just can't help it sometimes."

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes filled with affection. She began peppering his face with soft kisses—his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and finally his lips again. "There, all better?"

Max couldn't help but smile, the grumpiness slowly fading from his features. "Yeah, all better. You always know how to fix me."

She grinned, giving him one last kiss. "That's my job, isn't it? Besides, I like seeing you smile."

Max's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with love. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Max," she replied, resting her head on his chest. "Now, let's go back to work before Daniel makes even more fun of you."

Max chuckled, his mood considerably lighter. "Alright, but only because you asked so nicely."

Hand in hand, they walked back toward their respective garages, ready to face the rest of the race weekend together, their bond stronger than ever.

[shurisgf]

Request: (he’d kill us😭) but texting him the “he’s gone you can come now” prank on him as soon as he leaves 😂

DON’T PULL THAT SHIT AGAIN. — A. ARETAS ✩

ೃ⁀➷ SUMMARY; in which , you almost get your ass killed trying to do a prank on armando. | FEAT. Armando Aretas x POC!fem!reader | TROPE established relationship | FORMAT headcanons/drabble | GENRE fluff ish? | WARNINGS cursing | NOTES I LOVE THIS REQUEST LMFAOOO , poor baby didn’t even get his snacks from the store messing w you 😭

` you saw a girl on tiktok do this trend where she texted her boyfriend pretending to invite some other guy into the house as soon as he left

` so, being the daredevil you are, you decided to try this on armando

` and it almost got your ass killed

“Nena, voy a la tienda de la esquina.” Armando announced, walking into the bedroom to grab his keys and wallet before he left. “You want anything?” He asked, coming over to the side of the bed you were at, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. Looking up at him, you thought about it for a second, before responding with a “No, thank you though baby, be safe.” He leaned down and kissed you goodbye. And with that, he was out of the door, as you heard the apartment door close behind him. Now was the perfect time.

` so you opened your texts, and started to type the message, giggling when it delivered

` he thought you lost your mind

` he was barely even down the hallway of your apartment complex when you sent that message

` you couldn’t at least wait till he got to the damn car?

` you heard him walk back in, by this point you were scared shitless

` but deciding to take it a step further and pretending to get ready in the bathroom

“Who the fuck did you mean to send that message to?” Armando asked in a firm tone, it was clear that he was beginning to get irritated, especially when you didn’t answer his question. “Contéstame cuando te hable. Who?” His tone becoming more aggravated. He stepped towards you, grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

“Nobody, chill out.” That’s where you fucked up. “Chill out?” He scoffed, letting go of the hold on your jaw, walking slightly into the bedroom and running a hand through his hair before turning back around, facing you. “The fuck do you mean chill out?” He argued, squinting his eyes at you and tilting his head slightly. He couldn’t believe the shit that he was hearing.

“¿Estás dejando que otros hombres te follen? ¿Es eso lo que estoy escuchando? Hm?” His tone was accusing, but you know you had to keep it going. “No, the fuck?” You retaliated, Armando furrowing his eyebrows as if he was confused. But really, he was just being petty. “Fuck this shit,” He stated, grabbing his belongings and walking out of the bedroom. You immediately ran after him, “Baby it’s a prank! Nobody’s here! I was just playing!” You shouted, coming out of the bathroom.

` he looked so fed up with you when you told him it was a prank, but a part of him was relived that you were just playing

` he literally gave you the silent treatment for hours, trying to collect his thoughts

` leaving you to entertain yourself, as he did whatever he was doing in the kitchen

` so you walked into the kitchen and apoligized

“Baby I’m sorry, I saw it on TikTok and I wanted to try it on you.” You pleaded with him, trying to get him to talk to you again.

“TikTok almost got your ass dealt with.” He mumbled with a straight face, staring at you over the kitchen counter. He tried to stay mad at you, but looking at your pretty eyes, he couldn’t. You walked towards him, letting him wrap you in his arms. “You love me too much.” You gently spoke, looking up in his eyes.

“Tienes razón.” He replied, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Don’t pull that shit again.”

GLOSSARY !

Nena, voy a la tienda de la esquina — Baby, I’m going to the corner store.

No juegues conmigo — Don’t fucking play with me.

Contéstame cuando te hable — Answer me when I’m talking to you.

¿Estás dejando que otros hombres te follen? ¿Es eso lo que estoy escuchando? — You letting other men fuck you? Is that what I’m hearing?

Tienes razón — You’re right.

©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — SHURI'S GF. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission !

TAGLIST; @ghettogirly @milliumizoomi @armandosbabymama @dyttomori

reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[soobnny]

kiss me — lee minho.

trope. established relationship. just fluff and a lot of making out. minho is needy

synopsis. your favorite genre of lee minho is when he’s needy and begging for your kisses after a long exhausting day

word count. 1.4k words

warnings. kind of suggestive but not rly ? just lots of kissing so neck kisses and making out but nothing more

note. i can’t defend myself im sorry minho’s lips r just so pretty and kissable that i had to write about it

You think your favorite genre of Lee Minho is when he’s needy.

He barely makes an appearance, but when he does, he always takes you by full force. It doesn’t help that with this neediness comes a softness that had always been in the boy, but rarely showed.

Now that you’re dating, though, this intertwine of softness and neediness shows a little more often than when you were tiptoeing the thin, undistinguishable line between friends and lovers. It’s different from the care he displays to his friends, where he’s teasing, but you know he’s listening. It’s not quite like the one he shows his family either.

With you comes a particular softness that’s reserved for you only.

Like right now.

It’s an odd hour in the night, just close to midnight when he comes home. It’s the nth time he’s complaining about practice, sputtering loud whines about how coming up with the choreography had taken a much longer time than he had anticipated, stretching practice out longer than usual, and how this could’ve been time to spend with you.

Disdain drips from his tongue as he peels his jacket off of him, shamelessly zipping it down in front of you before tossing it aside in the laundry bin. “Just gonna shower, okay?”

His statement comes accompanied with a kiss to your jaw, and then he’s off to the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long before he’s walking out with wet hair arranged messily over his forehead, and you admit without shame how good he looks shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with a towel in hand to continue drying his hair.

“Stay awake for me, pretty girl.”

It is with selfishness that Minho asks you to stay up for just a little longer as he searches for a plain shirt to wear to bed. How could he not act on it? He had been thinking of kissing you hours ago, and he couldn’t wait until morning to feel your lips against his.

“Mkay…” He smiles at your persistence to stay awake for him, that gentleness peeking just a little as he takes a mental note of the way you scrunch your nose to keep your yawn in. He’ll save this memory to think about if practice runs a little too long again tomorrow.

The whiff of his laundry detergent is strong enough to peel your eyes open as he places himself beside you on his bed, and automatically, his arm makes its way around your waist.

You wonder what his motive is – it seems like he’s expecting something from the way his fingers tap at your hip, and the way it seems like he’s holding himself back from doing something. But Lee Minho is an impatient man, and it only takes about two minutes before he’s tugging at your shirt, sporting a feigned pout.

And then it all clicks.

You know this is his way of asking you to sit on his lap. Lee Minho has always been much more comfortable with showing his love through acts of service, however, he is still a man in love and in need of physical touch from the one person that matters the most in his life from time to time.

And years of knowing him would teach you that he has always had trouble with voicing his more physical concerns as he has never been outwardly touchy. Those years have also taught you of his little hints.

Like right now, when he’s tugging at your shirt.

A relieved sigh escapes his lips when you finally comply. Especially when most of the time you’d let him fight for it, enjoying the way his face would glow in heftiness over your demands of him telling you what he wants – but you really don’t think he’s in the mood.

He must’ve been so exhausted after practice to allow his neediness to make an appearance, even to the point of a whine almost spilling at his lips when you don’t respond to his tugging right away.

But you’re on his lap now, and that’s what matters the most to him. His hands immediately hike up your shirt, fingers sliding through your bare skin to claim their home in the curves and slopes of your body, the ones he’s memorized all too well.

“My needy boy is so cute.” You giggle.

There’s teasing laced in your voice when he leans down to comfortably rest his head on the crook of your neck, taking your hand and dropping it on his head as a sign for you to run your hand through it.

“Shut up.” Minho grumbles in response, fingers tracing little patterns over the skin he can reach.

He hums in satisfaction when you tug at his hair, the way he likes it, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on his face. When he lifts his hips up, you know it’s another hint that he wants you to move closer than you already were.

“Want me to kiss you?”

“Don’t make me say it.” He groans as he peels his head from your neck, lips moving to press against yours the moment you mention it but you move away just as quickly, dodging away from his kiss.

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Minho’s groans grow louder, grip tightening on your waist gently to tell you what he wants. “(Name), please.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh quietly, leaning forward this time to place a wet peck on his lips.

The simple gesture makes him fumbly, fingers moving to stroke your back before coming back down to caress your waist. Lee Minho is always so vulnerable when you kiss him like that, hands feeling him up after long hours at practice.

He looks at you with so much fondness beneath his hooded eyes before he makes a move to drag his lips down your neck so you don’t take notice of his unusually red face. His damp hair tickles a little, but you don’t mind – not when the sight of the man sitting beneath you, so hazy and soft, was entirely different to the Lee Minho the world thinks they know.

“You did good today.” You tap the back of his neck to get his attention, and almost immediately he’s looking back at you, at your eyes, then at your lips, and back to your eyes.

His eyes are a little blown out, but you can’t quite tell, not when he’s closing them and leaning in to kiss you. And his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they always do, but there’s more fervor and desperation in the way he’s kissing you right now, tongue running over your lower lip just so he can get more of you.

“Not tired yet?” You mumble against his lips, and he simply shakes his head, only pulling away when he can no longer control his breathing. He has a stupid smile on his face.

He allows himself to look at you for a few seconds, and the sight of your gentle smile and your messy hair and the flush pinkess of your lips, and the way you look down at him – mirroring the same amount of love he feels for you.

A sharp breath leaves his nose at the intimacy of the moment, and he’s hit again with just how much he really loves you that he feels the need to say it out loud. He doesn’t say it enough. He thinks he should work on saying it more.

“Love you.” Minho says it so softly, but in the quiet of his bedroom, you hear it clearly.

“I love you too.”

“You love me too?” He still feels the need to verify, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving to work their way back to your lips.

“I do. A lot.”

“Hmmm.” The atmosphere is silent when he pulls away from your skin, head tilted back, open-mouthed and eyes hooded as he breathes you in. “Come give me another kiss.”

And you do.

Lee Minho would never admit out loud, but you’ve got him terrifyingly wrapped around your finger.

He is so, so stupidly in love with you, in a lovesick, comforting kind of way and from the way you’re smiling and giggling right now, he considers giving his needy and soft side more screen time in the future just for you.

And only ever for you.

[yoredoesmore]

can we recieve a fanfic where reader is petty and could take his vice captain job (soshiro hoshina)

if she really tried? So kind of like enemies to lovers trope, and how he realized she actually didn't despise him was he overheard a conversation with okonogi, while Y/N was like simping and head over heels for him

a/n: i took my time writing this because i never wrote enemies to lovers before :’) i hope you enjoy it!

pairing: Petty!Hoshina x Petty!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers trope

[wc: 2,4k ]

Too Sweet | Hoshina Soshiro

“Did I tell you guys about the story of how I almost became Vice Captain?” You yelled into the round, beer glass lifted high up in the air.

“You? Vice Captain? No way!” Kafka laughed, wasted as much as everybody else around you.

The stench of alcohol and meat lingered in the air and the tension was packed and steamy. Two hours ago, the Third Division managed to neutralize a Daikaiju with a Fortitude Level of 8.3. Of course you could not have done it without the Kaiju on your side, Kafka, but it was indeed a group accomplishment. Thus, everybody felt lifted in both spirit and mind– and the alcohol only added to the cheerful atmosphere.

“Oh yes! Captain Ashiro was gonna pick me instead of mushroom head over there but he flashed his little katanas and bat his pretty little lashes to secure the spot for himself. Talk about tactical maneuvers!”

The entire table immediately fell into a fit of laughter, unable to hold themselves back anymore from the jokes that came at their Vice Captain's expenses. Even after another ten minutes, the mockery took no end. You continued to tease and joke about Hoshina, despite him only being a couple tables away from you, as the joy was too sweet. But as the time passed you eventually forgot about his existence, until he spoke up to remind you.

“You talk quite big for someone who can barely hold a gun. Don't think I didn't notice your little accident during the fight against that group of Yoju two hours ago.” Hoshina made sure to pronounce the word Yoju, not just to tease you but simply out of spite. Deep down he knew that the alcohol was speaking out of you, yet that did not stop him from feeling slightly irritated by your remarks.

“Maybe if you hadn't been standing right in front of the Yoju, I would have managed to get a better shot at the thing. Being a close distance fighter while everybody around you needs a clear field of vision to work must be quite tiring, hm? Maybe I would have been better off as the Vice Captain after all.”

Hoshina’s face twisted into a serious grimace upon hearing your words– a nerve had been struck. Even the others knew not to speak up anymore, the drastic change in atmosphere indicated that a fight was about to go down.

“Then how come everybody else managed to do their job just perfectly, huh? Maybe something distracted ya, Vice Captain?” Hoshina's words stung sharp in your chest. Especially him calling you that made the aftertaste of alcohol in your mouth even worse.

The both of you were now standing right across from one another, only a couple inches keeping you apart.

“Are they..about to fight??” Kafka asked Reno, worry lingering in his voice.

“Putting all my money on L/n.” Was all Reno had to say, leaving Kafka shocked.

“That ugly ass bowl cut of yours must have distracted me.”

Silence.

It was a silence that swept over the room that had everybody on high alert. One little slip of their mouth– or even the slightest bit of laughter falling out of their lips, would meant certain death. Your comment about Hoshina's hair came out way too fast, as if you have been waiting to mention it. The annoyance was evident on the Vice Captain's face. Never in his life has he been provoked to punish someone as much as he was now.

The man stepped closer, leaving little to no space between the both of you as he spoke up again.

“Is this funny to you, L/n?” Hoshina slightly tilted his head to the side as he spoke. The tone he had chosen to ask that question forced shivers down everyone's back. Hoshina was a patient man who did not let his emotions get the best of him most of the time but right now it was clear as ice that he was pissed.

“Maybe we should stop the-”

“Fucking hilariousss.” You dragged the s’ to really make it sting.

And from then on all went downhill…

×

“I did What?!” Your screech was so loud, it almost cut Okonogi’s ear off clean.

“Yep. The two of you almost got kicked out of the bar, if it hadn't been for Izumo and Kaguragi going between you– the only rationally thinking adults at yesterday's get together might I add.” The woman fixed her glasses as she made the remark.

Your eyes sat no longer in their sockets but rather on the floor, rolling around like giant marbles.

“Fuck..fuck!” Embarrassment rushed through your body, the images of yesterday's fight slowly returning to your mind. To think that you would act out in such way, simply because of a couple glasses of beer– it made you feel ashamed.

“That fucker knows how to push my buttons, dammit!”

“Oh please.” Okononig finally looked up from her laptop, all attention now on you.

“Even without the alcohol, Hoshina is able to draw out the most aggressive reactions out of you. You two always nag on each others throats, how come?”

Your eyes refused to meet hers as she waited for an answer, your gaze drifting towards anything in the room but her frame. How did you end up like this? It was a good question, unfortunately, you yourself did not know the answer. The tension between you and the Vice Captain has become so palpable that the wall it has created kept the both of you far away from one another. Every interaction, every conversation and even the smallest comment– your encounters would always end up in some kind of fight.

“That idiot..if he wasn't so damn cute I would have fucked him over a long time ago."

“Understa– what now??” Okonogi thought that she misheard you, that she has been listening to so much of your complaining that her ears were playing tricks on her. But one look at the dreamy face you were making was enough for her to know that you were indeed dead serious.

“He always has that stupid smirk on his face, it's driving me crazy!” You allowed your body to slump down onto the couch as you started to reveal your true feelings.

“Ugh, Konomi! He is so annoying. He thinks that just because he has a cute face he can act all cocky with me! I could take his spot as Vice Captain anytime I want, snap, just like that! He should be more careful around me!”

Either the alcohol was still speaking out of you or your mental state was much more fragile than Okonogi had thought. She did know that you had a little crush on the Vice Captain all the way back then when you first started out but to think that your feelings have not changed, despite the lack of chemistry between the both of you. It was truly impressive yet also worrying.

“Then why not just take his spot?” The woman asked a rhetorical question, sarcasm hanging in her voice.

“I like it when he gives me orders.”

“Y/n..”

“I'm just kidding, gosh!” You sighed and allowed your hand to fall over your face.

“But…I do like the way he acts when he's in control of a situation, he's too sweet.” A giggle slipped from between your lips. “Hoshina is the best when he goes all serious, be it in a fight against Kaiju or when arguing with me. The look on his face is somethin’ else I'm telling ya! And when he grabs me by the arm to push me away, gosh! I just want to melt!”

Okonogi found herself unable to come up with an answer to your slightly concerning confession. It was such a cliche, constantly arguing with the person you liked simply to see a specific side of them but at the same time she found it cute. To think that the Platoon Leader knew no other way to interact with her crush than to annoy him, it was childish but sweet. Like a highschool romance maybe?

“Don't ever tell him how much you admire him, it will definitely go to his head.” The woman returned to her workload yet she continued to pay you some of her attention

“Ha! Never, not even in my dreams. Okay, maybe in my dreams.” You giggled “If he held my real tight maybe and..oh Okonogi! This man has me in a chokehold, ugh.”

You went into an endless ramble about what specifically you liked about the man. His voice, his way of thinking in battle oh and not to mention his body– one could have thought you were talking to your diary. But your friend did not mind, as she found listening to a second voice instead just the one in her head while working rather refreshing.

“Oh and one time I caught him mid workout late at night and you wont believe how good he looked in that fucking compression shirt. I was ogling so hard, he caught me and I had to pretend to be mad at him for making so much noise late at night.”

“You gotta tell him how you feel someday, Y/n.” The woman replied but her words fell onto deaf ears. You had built up too much tension to now come out with your true feelings. Especially after yesterday's fight, you now had to avoid the man for an unseeable period of time before interacting with him in any type of way. The only way you could ever end up together was if he, for some reason, made the first move but that thought was a fantasy and nothing more.

“Thank you so much for listening to my bullshit rant, Konomi.” You gave the woman a long hug from behind while she remained seated.

“Always here to listen to you.” She smiled. And with that you left her shared office.

On your way back to your room, you encountered many cadets who greeted you with a smile. You returned their kindness, making sure to smile and wave at any soul you encountered. But once the space you walked through became less lively, less and less cadets now passed you by until you were all alone, so did the change in atmosphere become more suffocating. You felt a presence behind you, poking and scratching at your back.

At first you tried to ignore it, not paying your alarming thoughts any attention, until you were fully convinced to have heard something move behind you.

“Who's there-” Your entire body immediately froze upon locking eyes with Hoshina.

“Oh great, it's the Vice-” Hoshina grabbed you by the wrist, stopping you mid sentence, and pulled you into the closest room. His ambush came so fast and sudden, you barely had time to fight back. The man made sure to close the door behind himself as he had you where he wanted you to be, a dangerous smirk sat on his face.

“What the hell do you think you are doing!” You spat, the entire situation seeming so random to be real.

“I'm going to enjoy this immensely.” There was something playful in the Vice Captain's voice, something that even you feared. Before you could even progress what was about to happen, Hoshina placed himself right in front of you, head slightly tilted to the side and arms crossed over his chest.

“So, ya like it when I give ya orders, huh?”

Everything in your brain came to a temporary halt as you heard those words come from his mouth. Embarrassment wasn't even enough to explain the sheer humiliation you felt in that very second. Every inch of your body was telling you to run and hide into the nearest corner available. Did he..overhear your conversation with Okonogi?!

“Came by to tell Okonogi that I needed some info on somethin’. Didn't get the info I wanted but def left with sum I needed.”

“I have no idea what you're talking abo-” Once again you found yourself being cut off by the man. Hoshina pushed you back against a table, causing you to stumble and plop down onto it. He then positioned himself between your legs and moved his body closer to yours. His actions seemed like something out of a movie, a scenario one would strictly encounter in the world of fiction, yet he was right in front of you, playing with your heart and sanity.

“Here I was wondering why ya always rushed to get on my nerves. Guess our little Platoon Leader has a crush on her Vice Captain, hm?”

Your brain stopped functioning the second you felt Hoshina's hot breath against your lips. Now that you were seated on the desk and he stood right in front of you, you were about the same height. Forced to stare into his eyes, you found yourself choking on your own words.

“Oh p-please. You probably confused my voice for someone else's.” You tried to save yourself but your efforts were in vain. As your gaze started to drift away from his, Hoshina opened his eyes and placed his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him again. He was surely enjoying this, especially after the humiliation you put him through yesterday.

“Look at me.” He ordered, a smug grin on his face.

“All this time I was wondering where all this hate for me was comin from. Ya had me feelin real bad after every damn fight, felt like an asshole and everything.” He chuckled.

“Oh you are an asshole.” You rolled your eyes, the fight in you still alive.

“Yeah but you like this asshole, a lot even.”

As the tension grew thicker you realized that there was no going back from this. Your feelings were laid out all over the room with nowhere to hide. But although you felt humiliated and exposed, a part of you felt relieved that you could finally drop the act. You reached out for Hoshina's wrist and held onto it tightly.

“So what if I like you.. If you let your guard down for even a second, I will still take your position as Vice Captain and kick your fucking ass.”

Hoshina's eyes widened for a second, surprised that you were still going at it, but he liked that about you. That is why he tolerated all the mockery and jokes, because he too was desperate to see a certain side of you.

“How cute. Unfortunately, you are in no position to open your mouth that much.” His fingers grazed over your lips ever so lightly, applying the smallest amount of pressure onto them. His touch had you weak, yet you could not allow yourself to let your guard down. If you showed Hoshina even one second of weakness, he would use that to tease you for all eternity.

He of course knew that and therefore tried to get as much out of this situation as possible.

It was an opportunity too sweet to ignore.