#i’ve written during worse

[mediumgayitalian]

managed to finish the mean fic i mentioned last night sorry will

[bootyful-seventeen]

Got called mopy and moody and an overall killjoy for not enjoying the one (1) party experience I had in February of last year cuz I kept getting left alone at a party so I just sat and had nachos 🤙🏻🤙🏻🤙🏻

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

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

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

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

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

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

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

—

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

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

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

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

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

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

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

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

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

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

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

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

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

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

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

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

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

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

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

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

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

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

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

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

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

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

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

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

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

—

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

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

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

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

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

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

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

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

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

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

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

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

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LADY BRIDGERTON - Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader (smut)

Summary: Reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for.

Warnings: smut; badly written smut lol; infidelity; arguments about infidelity; possibly out of character anthony; I’ve only watched season 1 of Bridgerton; breeding kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it but this is a married couple); female reader/use of she/her pronouns; as always, proofread to the best of my ability

“Do you wish to make a fool of me?” Anthony leaned down to whisper in his young wife’s ear, a firm hand grabbing her elbow as he interrupted her conversation with a young man from Russia, or Hungary. He didn’t pay much mind to the boy so much as the woman who bore his last name, fully aware of the way she had been subtly flirting with many men that night. Taking count of the glasses of bubbles she had — she was nursing her fourth flute, Anthony had decided it was enough.

Don’t make a scene.

Lady Bridgerton felt an intense urge to strike her husband across his cheek, how dare he accuse her of making a fool out of him. All evening she had overheard whispers of Anthony’s name from nasty gossipers. The young Bridgertons had been the central characters in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Rumor has it that Lord Bridgerton had continued an affair with a certain singer, without bothering to hide it from his young wife. Even worse? Lady Bridgerton knew, as they all knew, and never seemed to let the truth affect how she presented herself to those around her.

“Would you like me to answer that truthfully, my dear husband?” She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes alight with a burning fury towards the unfaithful man she had devoted her life to. She jerked her arm away from his grip and started to lift the glass to her painted lips. Anthony grabbed the dainty piece of glass and shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go home.”

A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it, as a few heads turned to observe the titular couple. “If that is your wish, Mr. Bridgerton.” She turned on her heel and started to make her way out to the cold air, cursing herself for leaving her coat in the carriage. She didn’t even bother to wait for her husband to catch up as she informed the valet they would be leaving.

The carriage ride to the estate wasn’t anything special. She would sit and seethe in silence during the ride, her eyes burning a hole through Anthony’s forehead as he sat across from her. The argument began once the couple was behind the safety of their bedroom door, standing in front of each other with defenses up. “We have been married for two years, Anthony! Two years and the only time you have touched me was on our wedding night. Yet every night you come home, to OUR bed, smelling like some whore’s perfume! I am left to listen to the ton gossip about MY empty bed!” She nearly hissed the words to punctuate her accusations. Anthony had never seen such an outburst from the young woman, she had never spoken to him like that before. She was standing before him, the drinks she had at the ball fueling her anger and simultaneously allowing the anger to sober her head.

“I know that I wasn’t who you wanted to marry, I understand that this was just a beneficial arrangement for you. But I expect that as the woman who now holds your family name, who will one day bear your children, that you could at the very least respect me!” She was angry that he had just stood there and watched her yell, but at the same time, she wouldn’t let him get a word in.

“You cannot expect me to be a dutiful wife and lady if you refuse to grant me at least the tiniest shred of dignity. You, sir, make a fool of yourself, I am merely seeking that same kind of attention you seek from Siena.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet venom as she spat the woman’s name.

Anthony allowed the woman to speak her mind on his infidelity, finally admitting to himself that he had been unfair to her. He frequently came into their room in the middle of the night when he expected the woman to be asleep. In the beginning of the marriage, he had at least tried to hide the evidence, changing his clothes before he climbed under the blankets next to her. Now, she was accustomed to him laying down beside her without even taking off the shirt that was stained with Siena’s stage makeup and that reeked of her pungent perfume.

“I do not understand, Anthony. I can come to terms with a loveless marriage, but I am so exhausted by knowing you’re giving her that kind of attention, and I have remained loyal to you despite the obvious signs of your affair-“ her rant was abruptly cut short when Anthony floated over to her, his hands gripping her cheeks with fervor as he crashed his lips to hers. Taking only a moment to stand in shock, she pressed her lips back against his, her hand reaching to grip onto the front of his overcoat. Desperately reaching for more, trying to edge him closer to their bed but ultimately allowing him full control over her mind, body and soul. She let out a disappointed whimper when his lips parted from hers, his face inches from her own.

“What is it that you want from me, woman? You wish for me to touch you the way I touch her? Or do you believe my hands to be too stained?” She hated how close his lips were, desperately trying to reach forward as he spoke his mind. She didn’t really care how improper the words sounded as they came from his mouth, because she DID want him to touch her- not just touch, she wanted him to fuck her the way he fucked his mistress.

She took a moment to find her words, not expecting her confrontation to lead to this moment. “Anthony, I am your wife. All I want is for you to- to fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife.”

Understanding that he had a year’s worth of missing passion to make up for, and seeing that deep down he had no other choice than to obey the woman before him, he easily obliged. In this moment, Siena didn’t exist to him. He was purely focused on making sure his duties as a husband were thoroughly taken care of. Tonight, he would go to sleep smelling of his wife’s soft scent, making sure to cover the woman in marks of his affection.

Little time was wasted in getting their clothes off. A mess of hands clashing together to try and undo buttons and layers and loops, the couple grasping at each other as though they were desperate for the other as a life source.

Anthony paused for a moment to admire his lady’s body in the soft candlelight, letting his hands first run over the delectable curve of her hips, trailing up her sides before settling on her supple breasts.

“I’m sorry that I have spent so long torturing you, making you only imagine my hands touching you like this. I promise, my lady, I will do a much better job at attending to whatever it is you wish from me.” Anthony promised as his eyes stayed locked with hers. Her pupils were blown wide, and he realized he didn’t even know what color her irises were meant to be. He told himself he’d be a better husband to her after this, wanting to ensure her place in society as his wife. He’d fuck her full of his seed tonight, and every night after that, to make sure that Lady Whistledown could never accuse him of neglecting his wife’s desires again.

“Please, my lord, please--“ Lady Bridgerton sounded deliciously desperate, and it excited Anthony in a way that he had never experienced in his years-long affairs with Siena. It spurred him to plunge his cock deeper into his wife, his hand pushing her thigh down to her shoulder as he positioned her to angle himself deeper. She would probably think about the pressure against her cervix for the rest of her life, praying to God that she’d be able to experience this side of her husband for the rest of their lives together.

“What is it that you want, Lady Bridgerton? Tell me with words, my love, I want to hear you say it.” In this close position he could make sure she could look into his eyes to see he was genuine in this moment.

She was surprised at his stamina and determination tonight, focused more on her body than chasing his own release. A complete contrast to their wedding night, she felt like he treated the consummation as a chore. This was a much, much better experience. She had lost count of the times he had made her cum tonight, and the ways he had coaxed her orgasms from her.

“Anthony- Christ! Please don’t stop, want you to fuck me full til i’m round with your child-“ her voice was ragged and on the verge of giving out after not holding back a single sound. She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded begging for what seemed like the bare minimum from her husband.

Anthony leaned down to capture her lips in a messy kiss, reaching down to grab her hand that was tangled in the sheets beneath her. He caught any noises that escaped her, the sounds muffled against his own mouth, moving to hold her hand above her head. She clutched at his hand and whimpered his name as his hips stilled after a few sloppy thrusts, thick ropes coating her walls.

Anthony stayed put for a moment so as to not waste a drop, pulling his lips from hers before ghosting them over the hammering pulse in her neck. He gently maneuvered her pliable body into a resting position, slowly pulling himself from her and getting up from the bed.

After he had gently cleaned up the mess he had made of the woman, Anthony peppered soft kisses over her stomach as he made his way up to lay down next to her. She instantly curled into his chest and closed her eyes, taking her time in coming down from the cloud she was on. She could feel his fingers gently combing through her mussed hair, the sensation slowly bringing her back to earth.

“Are you alright, Lady Bridgerton?” Anthony spoke softly to not spook her, his arms locked safely around her keeping her pressed to his body. Her lips quirked into a smile and he took notice of the way her cheek dimpled, his thumb moving to stroke over the small impression.

“I am absolutely content, Lord Bridgerton.” She opened her eyes to look up at her husband’s face. Anthony smiled as he kissed her again, a kiss so tender that nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“I may not be the perfect husband, but I vow to do better by you. I will end things with Siena and tend to the parts of you that I’ve been neglectful of.” Anthony made a promise to her after he had pulled away. His wife reached up to grab his hand in hers, moving it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles before she spoke.

“You can use all of the sweet words that you want, you’ll still have to prove yourself with actions.” She squeezed his hand gently, “But I think this has been good start.”

[heliza24]

I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.

I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.

I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.

I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.

There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.

I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.

So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:

They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.

They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.

They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.

I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.

I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)

I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.

[ultralightpoe]

Chaos - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: terribly written but I'm clearing out my drafts

Warning: mentions of abuse

Word Count: 2340

Part One Here

Enjoy!

“What the hell happened?” Cho snaps, moving to the gurney being pushed in and surveying the amount of blood that was spilling. “Back up! I need room, someone page Stark immediately!”

The lights of the tower flicker under the storm, and Steve watches as Cho’s team wheels the gurney away quickly, his hand shaking heavily. Panic claws at his throat as the scene from earlier unfolds in his mind once more, turning slowly to the redhead beside him. 

“Steve-” She starts before he shakes his head. 

“Nat, this is not a conversation you want to have with me right now.” He sighs, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose before he realizes it’s coated in blood and pulls it back sharply. “I need to shower.”

He storms off, shoulders squared as he thinks about all the reports he is about to fill out. 

- 

“We won’t have much time, in and out as fast as we can. Everyone has their tasks?” Steve asks, making sure everyone nods back to him before making eye contact with you. “Y/n, I know this will be your first mission-”

“We should go before the storm gets any worse.” You interrupt, fixing your headset and moving to the bay of the quinjet, grabbing your bag before being the first to leave the ship and rushing to leave them behind. 

“Slow down Y/n.” You hear Bucky warn in your earpiece, and normally you would turn around to wait for him. But he wasn’t your partner on the mission today, so you didn’t turn and kept the same pace. They could catch up if they wanted. 

Bucky stops in his tracks when he sees you march off, not bothering to turn to him, his heart thundering in his chest. Normally you would slow down for him, normally he would have your back during missions. 

It was a slow realization that you would be alone. 

“Maybe we should-” He starts, feeling like a fool as Sam turns to look. 

“We gotta go, come on man.” He mumbles, watching as Nat takes lead. 

It was going to be a simple mission, in and out, Bucky reminds himself. Taking a deep breath before following the rest. 

- 

“We need a report,” Tony sighs, tracing through the footage of the mission, eyes widening at the fight. “I’ve never….”

“Tony, I’ve never seen it before. And it’s my fault.” Nat sighs, rubbing her hand across her face. “I got involved.”

“How?”

“I got in Bucky’s head a bit. I was just worried-”

“Worried about what?”  

“About Bucky and- I just remember coming out of the red room and being so attached to Clint. I had no family, no story, no morals. I was just pain. I was in pain myself and I inflicted pain onto others.”

“You went through something terrible-”

“THEY WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TERRIBLE! Bucky went through 70 years of it and the experiments they ran on Y/n….. I just wanted them to safe. I didn’t want them to get hurt.” She sighs, picking at her hair. “I love them both and I just wanted them to take a break. Maybe they would see how much they needed each other, and they would finally admit it to each other.”

“You should know by now that Barnes never thinks the way we do.”

“He thinks he is going to ruin everything he touches.”

“I know someone like that.” Clint interrupts from the door, giving Nat a small smirk. “Let’s just take a night to rest, Cho will update us if need be.”

- 

It had turned into a mess too fast, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The rain covered most of your vision as the walls of the compound seemed to be closing in quickly, the others screaming over the intercoms as they had been ambushed. 

You had been tasked to get the files from the lower levels of the compound, and you had planned to get it done quickly. You had not planned, however, to be locked in the basement as it began flooding. 

“GUYS!” You should, tears springing from your eyes as you cling to the door, the water reaching your ankles at the top of the stairs. 

“They blew up the dam-” Sams voice cuts through, half static half radio. “Steve, to your right-”

Gunshots could be heard in the background, Natasha cursing and you truly did not think they could hear you at all anymore. “Shit.” 

Instead of clinging to the door you turn to survey another way out of the room, eyes scanning over every inch of space to find your exit. The intercom in your hear rumbles with static before your name breaks through, Bucky’s voice sounding panicked. The next thing you know the intercoms have a sharp ringing through them that makes you gasp out and tear it from your ear quickly, dropping it in the water and diving in to find a way out. 

- 

Bucky curses as he tears the intercom from his ear, dodging a bullet quickly and diving behind a wall as Nat stays covered by her own, making eye contact for a second as she tears her own comns out.

First the heavy explosion that shook them down, the dam breaking and water beginning to flood, Hydra soldiers attacking them and now their comns were down. Worst of all Bucky could not find you. 

Heart thundering through his ribs as he bites at his tongue to keep from grunting in pain when he realizes he had been shot, but right now that doesn't matter. He had to find you. 

“I have to find Y/n!” He shouts, watching Nat nod before he dashes to the exit that you were supposed to use. Just as he reaches the metal door something loosens in his chest, knowing you would were near and he could find you. He would never let you go he swore to god. 

He pulls the door, desperate to get to you, only to find it sealed shut. So his metal hand takes charge, bending into the metal as he grunts out, doing his best to get it off. A shout of pain fills the air as Sam comes into view, moving to help Bucky tear the door off. 

They make eye contact for a moment, the rain beating down on them before a blast of light blows them to the side, heat covering their bodies as they ram into the wall. 

Bucky’s head slams into brick, he hears Steve shout and Sam scream out in pain before it all goes blank. 

He would never see the chaos erupt. 

- 

Steve is up the second the sun filters through the curtains, happy to finally get to leave his room and check on his friends' health. 

Nat is already waiting for him in the front hall of the med bay, a nervous look on her face as Steve walks past her to speak with Cho.”Any update?”

“He’s breathing.” She sighs. “And he was so lucky Y/n was there.”

- 

You could hear the explosion from under the water, and in a panic you swam back up, only to find that the water had flooded to the roof and your face was pressed to the ceiling to catch your breath. 

Taking a moment to breathe as you hear Sam scream in pain, there was a pain in yoru chest that you couldn’t explain. It felt like a panic attack but worse, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t stop crying. 

“PLEASE!” You scream, hands pressing to the ceiling as the water gets worse. 

“Stop crying!” A voice breaks out, and you whip your head to find your old boss, the man that had thrown you into your first cell. The man that had ruined you. 

He was standing in the center of the room, and you had to blink for a moment to realize that there was no water, and you were completely dry.

“W-what?”

“Stand up!” You listen to him immediately, just as you used to, the tears still streaming down your face as you look around the room. It was different now, when you had come in it had looked like a simple office, now it was your cell. 

Or had it always been your cell?

Who was screaming?

“I SAID STAND UP!” Doctor Cornell shouts, stomping forward to drag you up himself, a slap tearing across your face as you cry out. 

“Where’s Bucky?” You gasp, the pain in your cheek fading away quickly. “I want to find Bucky.”

“You think he wants you?” Cornell laughs bitterly. “No one wants you, I’ve made you a fucking freak.”

“I want b-” Before you can finish your sentence you remember Bucky ignoring you, avoiding you….. And then you realize why. Cornell was right, he had made you a freak. You were a monster. 

A sob racks through your chest, and the painful feeling explodes. 

You try to scream out, only for your lungs to fill with water and more panic to take place. 

- 

Steve could not believe his eyes, holding Sam's abdomen tightly in an attempt to stop the blood, watching as vines burst from the basement and travel across every surface faster then he ever thought possible. 

“Is that……” Steve starts, looking to where Nat was trying to get Bucky up.

“Y/n.”

Sam gasps out as the vines wrap around him, tightening around his wound and glowing a deep golden color as some of the blood stops, the vines traveling further and wrapping around the Hydra soldiers tightly to stop them all. 

Now that Sam's wound is being taken care of, Steve dashes to dive in the water, swimming down to try and find where you were. Only you were nowhere to be found, whatsoever. 

By the time he comes back up he is panting for air, watching as Bucky kneels by the water with blood leaking down his face and panicked eyes looking at his friend. “Where is she?”

“She’s not down there.” Steve gasps. 

“STEVE WHERE IS SHE?!” Bucky snaps, the water reaching his waist as Nat moves to snatch him back. 

“The vines are dying, Y/n can’t hold them off forever. We gotta go.” She rushes out, snatching the back of Buckys vest. 

“NOT WITHOUT Y/N-”

“Bucky. Y/n is holding them off but we have to get Sam out of here. Please.”

- 

“Any word on Y/n?” Bruce asks, coming into the surveillance room where Clint is deep diving into the footage. 

“I can’t find her.” He admits, eyes never leaving the screen. “I would love some help.”

“You got it.”

“Lock the door before Barnes comes in and bothers me again.” He sighs, watching Bruce lock it. It was a joke, but he knew that Barnes was hurting. He could understand that. 

- 

Bucky woke up in a startled panic, reaching to your side of the bed quickly, sitting up to find you when he doesn’t feel you. “Y/n?”

His voice is scratchy, a mix of all the screaming from yesterday, and he slowly realizes you aren’t there as the memories resurface.You weren’t here, you were gone. They weren’t able to find you yesterday. 

A knock sounds at the door and Bucky jumps up, excitement filling him as he rushes to answer, hoping to see your face on the other side of the door, only to find Steve on the other side. His heart plummets to his stomach as his friend looks at him softly. 

“You found your way to her apartments then?”

“I think I came here immediately yesterday.” He answers truthfully, letting Steve in before looking around the room, seeing all the dead plants. “How did her plants die in a day?”

“Buck…..” Steve starts, and Bucky tenses, fists clenched as he turns to his friend. “It’s been…. It’s been a week.”

“What?” Bucky laughs, flinching as Steve turns on the light. 

“It’s been a week. You came here the night we brought you back and you passed out, I think because of the head injury-”

“If it’s been a week then where is my doll?”

“We…. we can’t find her Buck.” Steve sighs, rubbing between his eyes. “I think it’s time you and I talked about some things-”

“Talk about things? I can’t talk I have to go find her Steve-” He moves to pass his friend but Steve shoots his hand out to catch him. 

“I think it’s time to admit you love her.”

- 

Freak freak freak freak freak. 

Your mouth was dry and your feet hurt, this was the only thing you could comprehend. 

The lady in the market was staring at you wildly, looking terrified as she reached a hand towards you, concern flashing through her eyes. “Are you okay?” 

She had a heavy accent, one that reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. What was it…..russian?

“Do you want me to call someone?” She asks, rubbing your shoulders. “What’s your name?”

“I…..I’m….” Who were you? You blinked slowly, trying to remember who you were. All you saw was a flash of someone with a metal arm before you were met with a bald man in a lab coat. “I… don’t…. Who am I?”

- 

Bucky finds himself in the med bay the next morning after a long lecture from Steve, staring at Sam as his friend runs on the treadmill. 

“I… I am so confused. Steve said you were in critical condition?” 

“He was.” Cho answers in amazement, reading the stats that Sam is sending through the tech pad in her hands. “But he is completely healed.”

“How?”

“Y/n, there were traces of her vines left in the wound. It’s completely healed now.”

“Her…. she’s never done that before.” Bucky mumbles, a tight feeling in his chest. “What do you think it means?”

“I think we need to find Y/n, as fast as we can. That was way too much energy used.” Cho answers, a grim expression on her face.

Bucky could do that, he would tear apart the world to find you.

Tag List:::

@spookyparadisesheep @minaxcarter @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @whatishappeninghere81 @vicmc624 @unaxv @elite4cekalyma @scott-loki-barnes @luciaexcorvus @zephyrmonkey @littlewhiterose @classyunknownlover @cyberficlya @m00n5t0n3 @donttalktosposts @magnificentsvn @jenniferpendragon @dexter99

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Heat - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader x Wade Wilson

A/N: Made myself blush while writing this 🤭 It’s the second longest story I’ve posted on this blog and most of it’s just filth, so I hope you all enjoy. Please let me know if I missed a warning! I know it’s a big chunk of them, but there’s a lot in this fic!

As always, don’t read if the warnings make you uncomfortable!!!

Written for this request

CW: Reader is a dog mutant; explicit sexual content; smut; humping pillows; Reader is in heat; Reader has canine characteristics; mentions of biting; Reader’s arousal is referred to as slick; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; fingering; desperation; grinding; cursing; more humping; Logan, Wade, and Reader are all dating each other; Reader is called handsome, baby, baby boy, slut, pup, puppy, mutt, dog, and honeybunches; degradation; mentions of breeding; Logan and Wade are referred to as Reader’s owners; mention of pre-established rules; oral sex (Reader receiving); overstimulation; Wade and Logan kiss; kissing; talk of blowjobs; crying; crying during sex; makeshift collar and leash; mild asphyxiation?; spanking; blowjobs; this position has a name, I just don’t know it; rough sex; mild throatfucking; PiV sex, I guess; dacryphilia?; Logan pushes his cum back inside Reader; cuddling; ‘I love you’s

2607 words

They’d left on a mission. They’d left you to go on a mission.

Well, really, you’d asked them to stay but refused to give a reason out of embarrassment, so they’d left. Promising they’d be back soon, but they’d still left.

And now here you were, rutting against Wade’s pillow like the damn dog you are.

It’s not really your fault. It’s part of your mutation. With your dog ears and tail and enhanced senses comes heats and possessiveness and biting.

Which is why you’re rutting against Wade’s pillow, as Logan’s has been turned into a pile of fabric scraps and stuffing. But it’s not really your fault. It just sorta… happened.

You growl softly and rub your aching parts harder against the pillow. It’s soaking wet, the fabric sticky with your slick. Burying Wade’s scent under yours.

Part of you likes the fact you’re marking his stuff with your scent. The other part of you just misses Wade and Logan.

The thought of your boyfriends has your dick pulsing with need. With a snarl you toss the pillow aside. It’s not enough. It’s never enough.

Getting off without them just isn’t satisfying anymore. Not when you know how Wade’s fingers feel stuffed inside you. Or how Logan’s dick feels when he’s bullying it ruthlessly into your hole.

You whine and pant, fingers snaking down to stuff themselves into your hole to relieve the aching need even just a little. It only makes it worse. You know it’s not them. Still, you fuck yourself with your hand, desperate for some relief.

You hear the front door open and you’re on your feet in an instant. You can hear Wade’s voice and you follow it like a beacon.

“Phew! It reeks of sex in here!” His mask is off. He turns around and spots you. “Hey, there, handsome—“

You pounce on him. Whining and whimpering as you rub your dick against his thigh. Hugging him tightly even as you hump his leg, tail wagging frantically behind you. Wade seems too stunned to comment for a moment.

There’s a low chuckle behind you. “Needy fucking thing. Bet he’s the reason our apartment stinks.”

You groan, hole clenching just from his voice. “Logan…!”

Wade finds his voice. “Goddamn, baby boy! Were you this needy the whole time?”

“Yes!” Your voice comes out as a whimper. “I needed you and you left!”

“Aww.” The two men coo in unison, Logan’s more mocking than Wade’s.

You bury your face against Wade’s shoulder and try your best to not tear up. Your dick is painfully achy, your hole clenching desperately around nothing. You need them so bad it makes your whole body hot.

“Please,” you whine. “Please, Wade! I need you so bad! Need your big fat cock stuffed in my hole.”

Wade groans and you can feel him thick and hard against your thigh. “Baby boy—“

Hands grip your waist, pulling you off and denying you the friction you crave. You sob at the loss.

“So needy,” Logan scoffs. “You’re like a damn pup in heat. Begging for our cocks like a slut.”

Slick gushes down your thighs. Drips onto the floor. You’re not even embarrassed about it anymore, so turned on you swear you could cum from Logan’s voice alone. You can feel your tail wagging so fast it hurts a bit.

Wade squeals with delight. “Look at him! I think he likes that!”

“Of course he does.” Logan holds you firmly against him, his hand trailing down to grip your wet thigh. “Dog’s practically begging us to breed him.”

The thought makes you moan, all breathy and desperate. You frantically wiggle and squirm, trying so hard to get his fingers just that little bit higher. You’re delirious for his touch, your whines and moans flowing freely.

“Please, please, please, please!” You beg, even as Logan slaps your thigh.

“Calm the fuck down, pup. I’m not fucking you here in the kitchen.”

You blindly turn for the bedroom. Wade laughs. “Come on, Wolvie. Look at the poor guy. He’s practically cock-dumb and we haven’t even done anything to him yet. Poor baby needs some love.”

Logan mutters something under his breath, but lets you go. You take one eager step, tail wagging, and almost topple over. Both men laugh, Wade catching you before you fall.

“Look at him,” Logan sneers. “Damn pup can’t even walk without his owners.”

Hands grip your hips again, keeping you up as he half-carries you to the bedroom.

He stops when he gets to the door. “What the hell?”

Wade pops up behind him. “Oooh, you’ve been a bad puppy, haven’t you?”

You moan again. You can’t help yourself. Not with Logan’s hands against your waist and his chest to your back. You shift to grind your ass against his front. His hold on you tightens instantly.

“On the bed,” he orders, shoving you forward. “Bad dogs don’t get rewards.”

You collapse on the bed, squirming and shifting until you’re comfortable. Then you roll onto your back and bring your knees to your chest. Exposing your dripping hole and throbbing dick to them.

Their reaction is immediate. Wade groans and Logan growls. They both move forward, gazes fixed hungrily on you.

“Look at you,” Wade coos mockingly. “I’ve never seen you this wet before.”

“… you really are in heat, aren’t you?” Logan grips your thigh, pressing your leg further into your chest to expose your hole even better. You whine and clench around nothing, the feeling almost painful at this point.

Both men groan.

Wade reaches out, as if to finally give you the love you need.

Your tail gives a few excited wags. “Please!”

He drags his fingers through your slick, teasing your hole and circling your dick. You sob at the feeling, bucking up frantically at the touch.

Logan growls and pins your hips down, forcing you to take what Wade gives you. “This ain’t a reward, handsome. You take what we give and you behave. You’ve already ruined our damn pillows. You don’t get to dictate how this goes.”

Tears leak from your eyes as you nod.

Wade chuckles softly. “So mean, Wolvie. You gonna be mean enough to let me fuck him today, or—“

“Fuck off,” Logan growls, pushing Wade’s head towards you. “Shut up and eat him out. You know the damn rules, idiot.”

Wade just laughs and kneels at the edge of the bed. He pulls you to him effortlessly, smearing more slick across the sheets. You’re positively drenched by the time his mouth meets your body.

He laps at your dick, swirling his tongue around it and sucking on it. Making you cry out and squirm against Logan’s hold on you. He’s still pinning you down, and it’s agony to not be able to chase your pleasure.

Wade grins against you, lowering his head a little to lap at your hole. Slurping up your slick like it’s his meal. Tonguing at your hole in a way that makes you sob.

You’re really crying now. Logan just smirks at you. “Look at you. Crying when you’re getting what you wanted. You’re a pathetic little slut.”

All that comes out of your mouth is a broken moan. Both men chuckle. Wade starts fucking your hole with his tongue, practically rubbing his nose against your dick. Your body arches with pleasure, your orgasm slamming into you out of nowhere.

Wade doesn’t let up, not until you’re pleading and sobbing and begging from the overstimulation. Then he finally pulls back, his face covered in your slick. Logan pulls him in for a kiss.

You pant for breath on the bed, dick aching with overstimulation. But you clench around nothing at the sight of your boyfriends kissing. You groan at the feeling of emptiness, whimpering softly.

They turn to you again. “Damn dog,” Logan mutters. “Can’t even let us have a kiss in peace.”

His hand moves to his belt and your tail thumps a few times on the bed. He smirks. “So eager. Bet you’d suck me right off if I asked.”

The thought has your mouth watering. Just the mental image of his thick cock thrusting in and out of your mouth has you moaning.

Wade grins. “Oh, he likes that idea.”

“You want that, mutt?” Logan starts to undo his belt, tugging it out from his belt loops. “Bet you’d slobber all over it. Make me cum down that hot throat of yours.”

You whine as your body again clenches around nothing. It hurts, the feeling of emptiness growing.

Logan gestures for you to sit up and you obey. You wipe the salty remnants of tears from your eyes, giving him a pathetic look.

Logan grins viciously and loops the belt around your neck. Sliding it through the buckle and notching it just the barest bit too tight around your throat. He gives it a tug, chuckling at the way you groan.

“Back on the bed,” he orders. “You’re gonna suck Wade off, nice and slow while I fuck your greedy little hole. Alright?”

You nod and he tugs harder on the makeshift leash. “Alright?”

“Yes!” It’s just a bit difficult to breathe, but you obey anyway. Scrambling to get on your hands and knees as Wade clambers onto the bed, stripped naked. You settle yourself between his legs, ass up in the air.

You barely have time to prepare yourself before Logan’s hand comes down on your ass. You yelp, tears springing to your eyes at the sting. Wade tilts your head up, one hand stroking his cock.

“You ready, baby boy?” He coos. Your eyes fixate on a bead of precum pooling at the tip of his cock.

You nod and Logan smacks your ass again. “Words, mutt. Or bark if you’re too dumb for that.”

The degradation makes you whine, heat creeping up your cheeks. You swallow past the saliva in your mouth. “Yes, sir.”

Wade smirks. “Good boy.”

He guides your head to his cock, letting you take the lead from there. You suckle the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head and tasting the precum. You can only lower your head so much; thanks to the makeshift collar and leash around your throat.

But you make due with what you can, arching your back as Logan runs his hands along your thighs.

“You’re a mess,” he says, letting his thumb brush against your hole. You clench automatically, a whine spilling out your throat. Wade groans at the feeling, thrusting up into your mouth.

You gag on his cock at the same time Logan slaps his cock against your hole. Nudging the tip against your dick. A moan is forced out of you, easing Wade’s cock further into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby boy,” Wade gasps. “Gonna make me blow too soon if you keep that up.”

You pull back, letting out a whine. Logan notches the tip of his dick against your hole, putting a little bit of pressure behind it. “Don’t you fucking stop, mutt.”

You take Wade’s dick back into your mouth, moaning around his thick length. He groans and thrusts into your mouth, right as Logan pushes his cock into your hole. Burying himself all the way in one go.

You choke, tears springing to your eyes at the sudden, delicious feeling of fullness. At the drag of Logan’s cock as he thrusts in and out of your hole. At the way his tip bruises against that one spot inside you.

“Fuck, your hole’s so tight,” he grunts. Gripping your hips to start up a bruising pace. You suck Wade’s cock as best you can, moaning and whining around it.

Wade moans with you, thrusting into your mouth and inching deeper and deeper until you’ve taken as much of him as your makeshift collar will allow you too.

It’s tight around your throat, Logan’s grip on the end of it unyielding. You arch your back a bit to get more leeway. The new angle makes you cry out, the vibrations of your throat sending Wade hurdling over the edge.

He cums down your throat, thick seed spilling on the back of your tongue. You swallow it all, tears streaming down your face. He pulls you off, leaning down for a kiss, only to lick the tears from your cheeks.

“Such a pretty boy,” he coos. “Such a pretty pup.”

You’d wag your tail, if the feeling of Logan thrusting hard into you didn’t suddenly make your toes curl and your back arch hard. You cry out, tension building hard in your body.

“I’m close, I’m close, I’m close!” You pant out, gripping Wade’s thighs for support. Logan only picks up the pace with a growl, muttering filthy things under his breath.

“Come on, you dumb mutt. Cum for your owners like a good boy.”

With a howl, you cum hard enough to see stars. Your ears ring and your head feels woozy. Warmth floods your lower body and you moan at the feeling.

It takes a moment for your hearing and vision to come back. Wade’s petting your head, fondling your soft ears. Logan’s still buried inside you, head pressed to your lower back.

You groan and shift a bit. Logan lifts his head. “You alright, pup?”

“Mhmm.” You’re a little too woozy to form words.

Wade unbuckles the belt around your throat and you gasp at the sudden full intake of air. You rest your head against his thigh, letting him rub his fingertips against the red marks on your throat.

Logan pulls out, making you whine from the sudden loss. He chuckles softly, scooping up the cum that spills out of you and stuffing it back into your hole. You squirm a bit, but don’t protest.

Wade pats the bed and Logan clambers on, making the mattress dip below his weight. You roll onto his chest, nuzzling your cheek against him. He pets your head, tracing a finger along your neck.

“It wasn’t too much, was it, pup?” He asks.

You shake your head. “It was perfect.”

Wade joins the cuddling, snuggling into Logan’s side. “You know, baby boy, you can always tell us when you’re in heat.” He kissed your cheek. “We love to help.”

Your face heats up and you hide against Logan’s chest. “Okay… Next time, I’ll tell you.”

“That’s a good boy.” Logan kisses the top of your head.

You preen at the praise, tail wagging behind you. For a few moments, the three of you just lie quietly.

Then Wade speaks up. “Guess we’re buying new pillows tomorrow.”

Your face warms with embarrassment. “Err… you might wanna wait for that.”

Both men look at you. “Why’s that?”

You scratch behind one of your ears. “I’m in heat. It’s not just a one day thing… At best, it’ll be all week long. And if you two have to go anywhere…”

Wade just stares at you. “All week long…” He sits up. “Baby boy, consider our schedule freed!”

You blink at him. “What?”

He grins at you. “A whole week of nothing but sex and cuddles? Honeybunches, I wouldn’t trade that opportunity for all the jobs in the world!”

Logan chuckles underneath you. “We’re prepared to help you out all you need, is what he means.”

You stare at them both, trying to fight back the slight prickle behind your eyes. “You guys… would do that for me?”

“Hell yes!”

“Damn right.”

You give each of them a long, firm kiss on the mouth. “I love you two.”

Logan grins up at you as Wade wraps his arms around you. “We love you too, pup.”

[katzske]

Thoughts on Earthspark Season 2 (first half)

Spoiler Free:

I must admit I’m dissatisfied.

The animation and rendering definitely looks cheaper. Sometimes it feels like frames are missing, animations not polished, scenes not fully rendered. 2d and 3d poorly blends. It’s quite noticeable unfortunately. Characters also do the TFP Megatron stare now.

That being said, time was taken to revisit old models of characters and give them a new appearance. (4 i’ve noticed) It makes sense given a lot has changed during one year time skip.

The writing often feels either like exposition dumping or naruto filler episodes. I was never at the edge of my seat even during the climax. I ended up skipping through episodes due to the lack of relevant plot information.

Something ES managed to maintain were carefully composed shots that make great still images. While that’s nice for screenshots and redraws, I also feel like it’s the only unique aspect of ES’ animation style that remained. The rest, as previously mentioned, has lost quality.

Character Details I’ve noticed and want to talk about (spoilers ahead)

half of season 2 part 1 is filler. optimus trailer episode, great america with cosmos, a pachycephalosaurus-truck fighting mushrooms, hashtag taking ten years to dispose of hard drives…. each episode did have a few minutes of either cute or important moments. but the majority is a waste of time.

I was hoping that we would learn more about the decepticons. now that they’re free, what are they up to? how are their dynamics? how did season 1 finale change their perception on things? would they try to convince the terrans THEY are the good guys? nothing like that though.

There is no satisfying character development for starscream. ES Starscream was perfect to explore a more neutral version of him, who does not do bad things out of pleasure, but due to necessity; following his desire to be free. In the show he mentions he wanted to get rid of his oppressors (in his eyes autobots and humans), but a real “bruh” moment was when he told Hashtag the only reason he opened up to her last time was to tell her “take care of yourself first”. It completely disregards the fact he came to help in the season 1 finale after reflecting on Hashtags words. It also aggravates me that the writing could have been a very easy fix. “hey i’m not being selfish by destroying this town. im doing this for the decepticons, we have lived under the control of the autobots and then of humans. this needs to stop, we deserve freedom and i will do anything it takes.”

the show managed to establish some friction between starscream and shockwave but for deception standards it was very tame. overall i think it was written okay; he purposely let the Terrans escape with the fragments, and he bailed on Starscream once he went bonkers. I hope that he gets to be a Decepticon leader in the second half; i don’t think we have seen that in any TF TV show before. i also like that his antennae and eye color give away his emotions now.

i feel like the autobots are treated even worse than the decepticons this season ngl. they merely exist; and when they do have the spotlight it’s often for comedy.

why the fuck did shockwave not wait for hashtag to just dump the hard drives and leave. if someone walked up to me yelling “give me your trashbag” as i’m trying to dispose of it i’d be weirded out too lol.

i hope the chaos terrans don’t return. aftermath imo was, plot wise, redundant. spitfire at least was interesting and had an impact.

i wish there were more interesting fights like in season 1 instead of, oh no they’re hitting the trailer with sticks, oh no we are an abomination of dinosaur and vehicle for what feels like 15mins straight. i miss seeing soundwave slay.

[beforeimdeceased]

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT4

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: the song was one thing, but calling you up on stage?

a/n: none!

better keep your head down + give me a call if you ever get lonely

masterlist.

the paparazzi are everywhere, all snapping shots of you as you rush into the band’s car. ellie stops to talk with them, ignoring jesse and dina’s pleads for her to get in. the sounds of the excited fans and the paps priding questions ring in your ears.

“so that’s the girl that fucked up your face?”

“i wouldn’t say it’s fucked up. it’d take a lot to fuck this face up. i think i look pretty hot with a bloody nose anyway.”

“and the song you performed earlier today is about her? crybaby?”

“yes—“

“ellie, get in the fucking car.”

“—yes and i’m looking into getting it released soon.”

jesse hops out of the car, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her in. “shit, gotta go guys. it was amazing to see you all—“ is cut off by the door slamming. dina let’s out a heavy sigh and throws her head back.

“i should punch you too.” dina starts. it makes ellie chuckle and she looks over at you. “it’s enough for you to write the song and perform it, but to call her out and bring her up on stage afterwards? ellie, seriously, you’re fucking horrible.”

jesse interjects. “not to mention you doing that during one of our most important songs. you ruined the set i’ve been perfectly curating for months. for what? for fun?”

ellie doesn’t respond. she just stares at you. puffy eyes and pouty lips while you sniffle down your remains of sadness. it felt like this night couldn’t get any worse, and yet you knew when you got back to the hotel she’d somehow find a way to prove you wrong.

“if you wanna sleep in our room tonight it’s fine. i completely understand.” jesse whispers to you as he opens the trunk to grab the bags. you think about it for a moment before shaking your head. you don’t want dina and jesse to feel like they always have to babysit you around ellie. you can handle yourself. you proved that today when you socked her in the face.

“alright kiddo. let me know if you need anything, okay?” he smiles, leading everyone to the rooms.

when you and ellie make it to your room, you both say nothing to each other. you’re sure she’ll break the silence, though. she always does. maybe the silence is uncomfortable for her? or maybe she just likes to hear herself talk.

“you gonna eat something?” ellie chimes up as she sees you walking towards the bathroom. you just ignore her and wash yourself up. you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from your bruised knuckles, or the lingering drowsy feeling after you’d been crying. all you want to do is collapse into the couch and sleep.

when you’re all done, you grab a blanket from your bag and settle yourself onto the couch. then ellie comes over, sitting on your blanket.

“remember when i went to jail?”

you sigh. “get off my blanket. i’m tired i want to go to sleep.” you tug at it but she refuses to move. continuing what she’d previously been saying.

“jesse and dina were on a trip and i called you. you bailed me out.”

it was 4am when you got the call. eyes barely able to open wide enough to see your screen. when you answered your heart dropped. “jail? ellie what the fuck?” you frown. she laughs. “i know right. gotta put this in our next song.” even with her sarcasm and smart ass mouth you could hear how scared she was. and you couldn’t say no. why couldn’t you say no?

you shrug. “so? what does that have to do with anything?”

“remember when you said you never hated me?”

you nod but you were rethinking it all now. flexing your sore hand. looking down at your blanket that she’d decided to hold hostage. confusion written all over your face. you said you never hated her, but not that you’d never hate her.

“i didn’t write that song to be mean—“

you interrupt her with a chuckle. “then what the fuck was it for?”

she angrily gets up and rushes away. “fucking forget it.”

you stand up, throwing a couch pillow at her. “why are you such an asshole, williams? seriously. were you dropped on your head as a baby or something? why do you walk through life as if everybody has done something wrong to you? you’re the tragedy of the story? that’s just not the case.”

she grabs the pillow and rushes at you, hitting you over the head. “why don’t you hate me then, huh? if i’m so terrible why don’t you hate my fucking guts?”

an uncomfortable silence falls between you two. you, bewildered at her question, still finding it hard to believe she cares. failing to understand why it’s your opinion she cares so much about. her, anticipating your answer. on edge. wanting things to make sense. both of you staring at each other. breathing heavy. twisted faces.

you see the scared look in her eyes and you almost want to hold her. want to see her for what she truly is: scared. that’s why she’s always angry. because she’s scared. because she’s alone. because she didn’t mean to, but she’s run everyone away.

but her lip curls into an all knowing smirk. the kind that could only come from predicting your thoughts through your eyes. piercing into your soul to ping at the bit of empathy you had left in you. for her. for the girl who’s angry and scared and alone. the girl who called you onstage in front of a crowd of people to humiliate you.

the girl who embarrassed you at karaoke. turned a video of you drunk falling into a meme. pushes you off to the side so she can be in the middle of dina and jesse on the sidewalk. trips you if you aren’t paying attention. lies. fights. and fucks you over.

your face changes completely, and hers falls when she realizes.

“you’re pathetic. you’re sad and you’re sick. i can’t believe i trusted you. i can’t believe i had sex with you. fuck you.” you yell before storming off. leaving her there. all alone.

“so you’re starting a band?” you ask dina. she nods, smiling. “with jesse and a friend of ours. i can’t wait for you to see us perform. maybe you could come to one of our practices this weekend?”

“yeah, i’d love to meet your friend!”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hiii <3 can i get something with Tara? i miss her. she and reader have a sleepover and they break friendship rules. smut if you can pls

I have not written girl smut a long time, but with the release of the new Mean Girls in theaters...the words come easily (did I say that? no I didn't)

Warnings: 18+, spoilers for scream 5, nipple play, clit play, fingering

—

You and Tara have been having sleepovers at her house since you were ten. Unfortunately, they had to be paused during Tara’s recovery as she was taking a lot of medication that made her sleepy and, with her broken leg, her cast was taking most of her small bed. Not ideal for sleepovers.

Two months went by, and now her leg was fully healed…which meant sleepovers could start again. 

Like we used to.

‘’I got popcorn and M&Ms this afternoon for the movies,’’ Tara informed as you walked in with your backpack on your shoulder.  

The air felt different as you stepped into Tara's house. Although you hadn’t been there when she got attacked, you couldn’t help but imagine the scene every time you were in her doorway or kitchen. How scared Tara must have been when she opened the door and got greeted with a knife in her stomach. 

You nodded as you took off your shoes and jacket. ‘’Have you picked a movie yet?’’ 

‘’No. You can pick something you like. It was your turn, right?’’ 

Although you didn’t have sleepovers, you’ve been in Tara’s bedroom many times during her recovery. She was sleeping a lot of the time, but you stayed by her side. You even set up fairy lights for her because she didn't feel comfortable alone in the dark. Being brutally attacked leaves trauma behind. 

‘’Have you picked yet?’’ Tara asked, walking in with a huge bowl of popcorn. 

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts and snapped your head toward the bedroom door. ‘’Eh, no. I have not. Do you want horror or a rom-com?’’ 

‘’We can do horror.’’ She climbed on the bed with the popcorn and got under the blankets, her soft leg brushing yours as she settled in comfortably. 

‘’Are you sure?’’

Tara nodded. ‘’No slashers, though,’’ she warned. 

The movie turned out to be a complete mess. You should have read letterboxd reviews before starting it. Between the bad acting, the cheap jumpscares and the storyline that had so many loopholes, you couldn’t tell which was worse. 

Sam came home from work just as you were starting the second movie, stealing some of your leftover M&Ms before going for a shower. Tara complained and threw popcorn at her, making you laugh. 

You let Tara pick the second movie. It was better than the first one, but it had a lot of sex scenes in it. Usually, you didn’t mind sex scenes. They were part of a lot of horror movies nowadays. What made it uncomfortable was how close to Tara you were while watching them. You tried shifting your eyes from the screen, but the brunette with small tits reminded you of your best friend…which you were dying to make a move on.

When the movie ended, Tara turned off the tv and you laid down on your side, pulling the covers higher. It wasn’t cold, just a habit. 

‘’Did you not like the movie?’’ Tara asked in the semi-obscurity, her face close to yours on the pillows. 

‘’It was good,’’ you lied.  

‘’Then why were your eyes off the screen most of the time? You can tell me if you didn’t like it. I’m not gonna get mad and give a whole speech about how great it was like Mindy does.’’

A small laugh left your lips. Mindy had very loud cinephile opinions. You can’t just casually watch a movie with her. It was entertaining to watch her and Amber debate on movie nights. They had different preferences and often contradicted each other’s opinions. 

But that won’t be happening anymore. 

‘’You’re my favorite person,’’ you quietly confessed, the words getting out before you could stop them. 

‘’You’re mine too,’’ Tara responded, her voice small and quiet. She inched closer, her brown eyes looking right at yours. ‘’I missed this — us,’’ she added. ‘’I’ve probably said it already, but thanks for being there. I don’t think I would have gotten through all of this without someone to anchor myself to.’’

Amber’s betrayal had been hard on Tara. Unlike body pains, they couldn’t be appeased by painkillers. 

You reached out and gently grabbed Tara's hand, your thumb brushing over the raised scar. ‘’I’m always gonna be there for you.’’

‘’Promise?’’ She inched closer again; her breath ghosting your lips. 

You nodded. ‘’Promise,’’ you repeated, praying you hadn't read her actions wrong as you closed the remaining distance between you, your lips brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss. 

It was over too quickly, your anxiety telling you she wasn't into you and making you pull away. Congratulations, you just ruined your friendship! But Tara quieted that voice, pressing her mouth back on yours again. 

The covers rustled quietly, Tara's hand finding its way to the side of your face, fingers delicately tracing the outline of your jaw. You kissed her back with a fever that made her gasp, a sound that went straight to your core. 

It was difficult to control your impulses. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. 

‘’Tara—’’ 

She shook her head, stopping you. ‘’Kiss me.’’ 

So you did. Again.

You didn’t know where this was going, but you knew you didn’t want to stop it. 

You kept your hand on Tara’s waist, not wanting to rush into things, but Tara was whining and rubbing against you, making it harder for you to not straddle her and get your hands and mouth all over her. Or maybe it was what she wanted? 

Fuck it, you said to yourself, giving in and letting your hands wander under her shirt. If you went too far, she would tell you, right? You slowly kneaded her breasts, alternating. Your fingers traced her nipples which made her let out a very faint moan so you flicked her nipple again. She was so responsive and cute.

Starting to feel hot, Tara pulled off her sleep shirt, exposing her small tits. You had seen them before in the P.E. changing rooms, but now it was different. You didn’t feel wrong for looking — well, staring. 

She noticed your eyes on her and her cheeks got hot. ‘’It’s not much, I know,’’ Tara apologized, embarrassed by her small tits. 

Shaking your head, you shut down her insecurity by laying her back on the bed and taking a nipple into your mouth and sucking on it. 

The sensation made her bite her bottom lip as her eyes fluttered shut. ‘’That feels good.’’ 

As you were doing so, you tentatively reached a hand down to Tara’s pajama shorts and teased her over the cotton, which was quickly soaked through. 

She pushed her hips against your hand. ‘’Please.’’ She paused, her breath uneven. ‘’Touch me.’’

You could feel your own arousal soaking through your panties from her words, her small noises making your cunt tingle.  

Ignoring your own needs, you slipped your hand under her shorts and panties. Tara's back arched as your fingers brushed her wet folds, massaged her cunt softly without adding too much pressure. You didn't want to make her moan too loud, Sam's bedroom was right across from hers. 

You gave attention to her sensitive pink clit, continuously massaging your thumb over it and causing Tara to clutch her pillow as jolts of pleasure filled her. ‘’That feels good— ah,’’ she sighed softly, reaching down to tug on her nipples. 

She was so beautiful like this, laying on her back and her body writhing from your touch. You brought your mouths together again, kissing as your hand that wasn't in Tara's shorts traveled down your body to shove your bottoms down your thighs and play with your clit. You whimpered into Tara's mouth.

You continued your motions until you could feel her climax getting close, waves of pleasure rolling through her body with a last buck of her hips, clenching around your fingers with a death grip as her entire body twitched with the aftershocks.

Withdrawing your hand from her panties, you fell back against the pillows and finished yourself, parting your knees and rubbing your clit so fast it made your eyes roll back. Beside you, an out of breath Tara watched with awe as your arousal dripped on her bedsheets, creating a dark patch. It wasn’t long until your climax crashed over you, joining your best friend in her post-climax haze.  

‘’Well, that was one hell of a sleepover,’’ Tara said, a small giggle coming out of her.

—

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[blocksgame]

Tips on character voices when writing fic

This is written in mind for people writing fic in MCYT/QSMP/DSMP/Life series/etc kind of fandoms. But if anyone finds it useful for anything else, well then, hell yeah.

Character voice is big in all, uh, fiction, and mimicking it in any fanwork is big. But I think it’s especially big in these fandoms where the voices are so distinct – it’s usually how a Real Person Somewhere (the streamer) talks, versus something very scripted that you’d see in a TV show or novel. And it can be a big difference in your character sounding generic versus really feeling true to the original.

Listen to a bunch of your subject talking. If you want to write a character well, watch vods from their point of view, or episodes where they show up a bunch. Take note of what they say and how.

2. If you don’t know how to start doing that: try literally writing down what they say. Transcribe an actual exchange in fic-format. You probably won’t want to publish a literal exchange from canon, but it will give you a sense of how to physically write what they say.

3. If you do this (or just pay attention to how they talk), you will get a lot of: Stumbling, pauses, repeating words, filler words, weird sentence constructions, fragments, etc. I love em! Here’s something that comes through in improv much more than in novels or movies: Most people, even very charismatic people, are not very eloquent when they speak. Writing out conversations or sentences will give you a sense of the unique and delightful way in which your subject is not eloquent. vvvvv way more under cut vvvvv

(People use a LOT of filler/etc when they speak. It’s reasonable to cut back on this if it’s interfering with a nice-looking or readable result. I believe this is the eternal struggle of people who write transcripts – you want the transcript to be accurate, but there are also a lot of things you can obviously simplify and not lose the meaning. So you’ll end up falling somewhere on this spectrum either way. But I do think a lot of mediocre/generic fic dialogue is very stylized – it doesn’t sound like your guy because your guy literally wouldn’t say that. They would say it worse and more confusingly.)

(I’m serious, if you’ve never sat down with a short non-completely-scripted clip or real conversation or whatever and just written out exactly what was said, do it. It will make you better at writing.)

4. Wonda-cat made a really incredible list [link] of characterizing speech patterns for the Dream SMP members. But you can also do your own reconnaissance and come up with your own patterns, common phrases, etc.

5. You do not have to get EVERYTHING right. You’re not going to, like, get so deep into the speaker’s brain that you can produce “exactly what they would have said if they were somehow in your fic.” That is impossible. You’re just trying to evoke a character, and if you get a few turns of phrase to ring true, you’re doing great.

6. A lot of these people are popular because they are hilarious. Include jokes. Yes, even if your thing is angsty or serious. A lot of the most serious lore I can think of from, e.g., the Dream SMP or 3rd Life or the QSMP - the really story-defining, life-and-death moments - were absolutely hysterical. If you’re writing characters who are usually funny, then add some humor. It can heighten angst via contrast and a sense of realism. Ask yourself what a funny streamer would make jokes about if they were possessing a character in this situation.

7. Some people have the mystical ability to “hear” character voices in their head, and read things in their voice. If you can, do this with all of your dialogue during the editing process. This won’t always get you there, but sometimes it can catch things that sound wrong by invoking "that's really hard to imagine them saying". If you don’t have this power, try recruiting a friend who does.

8. So there’s dialogue and then there’s narration that’s still from a character’s point of view. I’ve mostly given you tips about dialogue, but a lot of this is also true for narration. IMO, narration is less about phrasing things the way the subject would, and more about recreating the way they think. I don’t have concrete rules on how to do this, but here is my wisdom:

You can get eloquent again - narration is more of an abstract and artistic process than dialogue.

Spend time with your subject’s source material.

Pay attention to what they notice and care about. How do you think they think?

Don’t be afraid to get weird with it.

That last one also applies to all art ever.

9. MCYT tends to give you a great boon you don’t see in other media: what the speaker says to their chat/audience when nobody else is listening. This can be incredibly characterizing even if you’re writing a story where people don’t have chats. It’s your person talking about their thought processes and feelings! Mine that shit.

10. Some questions that might help guide both characterizing narration and dialogue (that you’d get from dialogue):

How open are they about their feelings?

How often do they lie? What do they lie about?

What kind of metaphors do they use, if any?

How quickly does their mood change?

How can you tell when they’re in different moods?

What kind of things do they pay attention to?

How formal is their speech?

11. Finally, this is a little odd, but I find it’s much, much easier to write a character that sounds good if I, the author, like them and am rooting for them at least a little bit. If a character needs to be there who you don’t love, try to love them. Or at least get a sense of what other people love about them. It just makes everything else easier. I swear to god.

Happy writing out there!

[dailyadventureprompts]

DM Tip: Creating a Campaign Skeleton

Learning to be a better dungeonmaster was a protracted process. A younger me was often so stressed out by the desire to be a better artist that I'd have legitimately mauled a person if it would've revealed to me the wisdom I sought (with my hands or even an actual maul given the chance).

One of my biggest hurdles was the idea of a universal framework for d&d adventures, a guideline that would tell me if the things I was creating were on the right track. It was sorely needed, I loved the process of being creative but without an understanding of how my creative energy was best used I ended up sinking days, weeks, or even months worth of energy into projects that went nowhere. Worse yet, when I DID get a chance to put my ideas into practice at the table they'd frequently spiral out of control and crash, resulting in even more stress.

Over time I learned from these mistakes, I got better, and then I got good. I moved from conscious incompetence to competence, and I ended up having a run of absolutely stellar campaigns that were everything my younger self could have dreamed of: stable, enjoyable, meaningful, and most importantly an absolute delight to my players. Routinely I'd have people, including folks that'd only played with me a few times, mention that getting together to roll dice and listen to me babel on in silly voices was a highlight of their week.

It was as one of these campaigns began to wind down (three years! a satisfying conclusion on the horizon!) and I started looking for a followup scenario that I decided to study all my really successful campaigns and figure out what connected them. The end result was something I'd been looking for for nearly a decade, a reliable format that I could build campaigns around.

I want to preface this section with the understanding that while this information is laid out in a vaguely chronological fashion there's no guarantee that these ideas will occur to you in any particular order. Inspiration is a funny thing, and each idea flows into the others to make a cohesive whole. Due to foreshadowing and setup reasons you're also going to need a pretty solid idea about all of these when starting a campaign, though exact details will likely change/ can be vague up until the moment they're needed.

The Reason: Who are we and what are we doing?

Gives your players a solid background to build their characters around and give them a reason to travel together, rather than having to ad lib one on the spot. Likewise sets expectations of what the campaign is "about" that you can build on or subvert in time. The reason doesn't need to hold true for the entire game, just long enough to serve as a framing device. EG: The Witcher starts out as a "monster of the week" setup and then uses that framework to pivot into politics and prophecy once we've seen the premise play out.

The Pilot/Crashtest Adventure: What's first?

I’ve already written about these, but the general concept is to give your party a mostly contained first outing that doesn’t have any larger bearing on the plot so they can focus on learning how their characters play/building the party dynamic.  By the time the party's finished this first adventure they'll have already started putting down roots in the world: they'll have in jokes, npcs they've started to care about, an understanding of what's on the horizon, and an idea of where they want to go next.

The Central Gameplay Pillar: How does this all work?

It's important to have an idea what your campaign is going to be about in a mechanical sense in addition to its plot and themes. There is a difference between an adventure that has the party delve a dungeon, and a dungeoncrawling focused campaign. I like to lead with these outright during the campaign pitch so that players can know what they're getting into. Your playgroup will likely have strong opinions about what they like and dislike, even if they don't have the words to describe it, so you might need to explain the ideas for them.

The Hub: Where are we?

I think every good campaign has a hub, some kind of settlement that the party returns to between adventures to offload loot, pick up supplies, and sift through the latest gossip to look for the next questhook. Letting the party return to the same place lets them build up a relationship with it, clarifying the picture in their mind as new details are added and they grow more and more attached. It's possible to have multiple hubs over the course of a campaign, but I'd advise really only having one per arc to best concentrate your efforts. Fill up your hub with distractions and side adventures, shorter stories that the party can get tangled up in while the larger adventure slowly reveals itself. Returning to the same hub also means returning to a familiar and expanding cast of NPCs, which helps your party become more and more invested in the setting

The Main Event: What's going to happen?

Here we get to the meat of the issue, the big story you want to be telling using this campaign. To pull off the sick narrative kickflip you wish to perform, you're going to need to lay a lot of groundwork, seeding in details left and right as well as giving the party a chance to stumble across evidence of your schemes without ever realizing the whole thing. To do this, you're going to work in the building blocks of your big reveal/twist/pending disaster into the setting along with those side adventures from the hub. This will give your party an idea that something is going on, but with more pressing matters to take care of they're going to be distracted up until the moment you decide to pull the trigger.

The Setting: What's over there?

While things like genre and tone are definitely things you should have a handle on from the outset, I personally feel like the details of a setting are best constructed on an ad hoc basis, either in a direct response to something required by part of the narrative (be it side story or main event), or pencilled in at the margins as the party explores the world.. That said, creation of the hub and setting often go hand in hand because it's important to match the settlement to the environment and then shape the environment to the quests inside the settlement. As for what's beyond your hub, I happen to have just written something about building out settings.

Now, this next option is one that I recommend you start thinking about only once your campaign is fully underway, so it doesn't clog up your creative process by focusing on something that you might not even get to

The Change: What the fuck?

A little while after the main event has kicked off and your party is off on the quest that will turn them from mere adventurers into heroes, they start to hear rumours of strange happenings. It's certainly not related to the present scenario, it may even be an unexpected windfall, but it's not something they have time to look into. Time ticks on, the land is saved, and the party is able to enjoy their victory lap as well as some dearly needed time off. Before they can get comfortable however they're slammed by some strange occurrence that they could have never predicted that changes the state of the world. A neighbouring kingdom invades, an important ally is murdered and they're blamed for it, a dragon starts rampaging through the realm. Its important that this event is outside the party's skillset, not necessarily diametrically opposed, but counter to what they were planning

artsource

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 12 - Somnophilia

Soap x Reader - 5.5k (on ao3)

summary: Your doctor offers to help you get home after your lasik eye surgery. (Reader POV & Johnny POV)

cw: noncon sex, drugging, kidnapping, briefly mentioned lasik eye surgery (no description past one mention of a scalpel)

note: tysm to ceil for giving me this idea <3 i did a few google searches on lasik eye surgery and tried to mention the actual feelings as little as possible, and also the drug johnny uses is probably literally impossible but its fic so who cares lol

“And… how long did you say I have to wear these?” You ask, tentatively touching the glasses resting over your eyes.

“Och, not long at all. Just until tonight, then you come in for a check-up tomorrow afternoon and I’ll let you know what other care you’ll need.” Dr. MacTavish replies, big hands adjusting the frames and pushing them up your nose.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are they usually painted like this?” You’d hardly been able to see post lasik-surgery - mostly just big swaths of color - but you feel far more vulnerable with the sunglasses on, their blacked out lenses leaving you entirely in the dark except for the blurry light around the rims. 

Your doctor’s laugh is low and comforting, his hand patting you on the shoulder before you hear him moving away. “Of course. Not all optometrists use them, but I’ve found for patients like you they have the best results.”

“Like me?”

“Yes,” another chuckle, and the sounds of what you assume are tools being put away. “Patients who struggle to be good and sit still during their surgery.”

“Ah.” You feel your cheeks go hot in embarrassment. “I really am sorry about that…”

“No need,” he reassures, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You can’t help but jerk a little, the glasses slipping down your nose. “Oops, don’t be losin’ those, bonnie.”

Your cheeks go hot and you have to fight the urge not to reach up and fix them yourself since his hand gets their first. He rights them quickly, then taps the tip of your nose with a finger. “There you go. Let’s keep those where they should be, hm?” He gives the nape of your neck a squeeze, his palm warm and rough, and you do your best to nod without awkwardly dislodging him.

“Now, do you have a ride home?”

You suck your teeth a little at that. You hadn’t known you’d be wearing the dark glasses after - the care plan you and Dr. MacTavish had discussed beforehand had made it seem like you’d be able to ride the bus home, but you’re not comfortable doing that in your blinded state.

“Ah, not right now,” you start, tangling your fingers together in your lap to avoid rubbing at your itchy eyes. “But I can probably call a friend-”

“Nonsense,” Dr. MacTavish dismisses, moving away from you and back to whatever he’d been moving before. “You’re my last patient of the day, how about I give you a ride home?”

“Oh,” you start, startled at his offer. “Oh, that’s… no, that’s alright, Doctor. I’m sure one of my friends could-”

He interrupts you with a tsk, and suddenly there’s a hand at your elbows guiding you up, then just one as he walks you out of the office. “No, that won’t do. We need to get you home and in bed as soon as possible - it’s not good for you to be keeping your eyes open so much after surgery, you know.”

“Oh, really?” You gasp a little, letting him guide you. “Should I be keeping them closed? I don’t want to make anything worse…”

“You’re doing just fine, bonnie, no worries.” The hand on your elbow squeezes as you come to a stop, and you hear the sound of something being written on. “I’ll take good care of you now. C’mon.” What must be a pen is dropped onto what you can only assume is the front counter, and you’re guided forward again. “We’ll have you safe at home in no time.”

Dr. MacTavish’s car is nice - the seats aren’t cracking at all, the air conditioning works to cool the interior quickly, there’s a faint minty smell - but it disconcerts you more than you might’ve expected to be left completely blind in an unfamiliar environment, and with someone you don’t know past a professional relationship.

You give him your address after he buckles you in (you swear his hand brushes your chest, but it doesn’t linger and you don’t want to accuse him of something unfounded just because of a slight touch) and he doesn’t bother to input it into the GPS, tells you he already knows where the neighborhood is.

You haven’t felt so vulnerable in a long time. Even around the edge of the glasses, all you can see are blurs of color, and you feel oddly exposed without the ability to see. Your eyes itch and sting, and it takes conscious effort not to rub the feeling away. 

You lift a hand to rub them without even thinking but before it’s even halfway to your face Dr. MacTavish grabs it, pinning it to your thigh and making a low noise of dissent. “No rubbing now, lass, you know the rules.”

The heat creeping up your neck is entirely involuntary, and you tuck your free hand beneath your leg to resist the urge to squirm. “Right, of course, I’m sorry Dr. MacTavish.”

“Johnny, lass, no need for titles off the clock.”

You try to make a vague noise of understanding but end up sounding a bit like a bird, your hand clammy beneath his. He gives you a squeeze, but doesn’t let go. You’d ask him to move but… well, you don’t want to make things awkward when he’s your only way home at the moment and you figure he’s just helping. So you try to relax your fingers, and zone out to the sound of him humming along to the radio.

“Here we are,” he announces eventually, the car slowing to a stop before he turns into your driveway. “Nice neighborhood, hen. Very safe.”

You try to laugh casually and cringe when it just comes off as awkward - you’re unsure how to naviagte small-talk when all you really want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. “I just moved here recently, but it seems to be a pleasant area. I certainly don’t have any complaints.”

Dr. MacTavish - Johnny - hums in response, turning the car off and getting out to come to your side. He unbuckles you quickly and again there’s a little voice in the back of your head that says his hand lingered by your waist for just a few beats too long. But his fingers don’t venture anywhere appropriate, and you tell yourself that you’re seeing something that isn’t really there.

He keeps a hold of your elbow as he guides you up the stairs and into your building. He pauses and then a moment later you hear a ding, and the clear familiar sound of an elevator opening.

“Oh,” you say, shocked as he tugs you forward. “I had no idea the elevator was fixed - it’s been out of order since I moved in.”

“Really?” You hear press a button.

You stand there in silence for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before you feel the elevator start to move.

“Um, Dr Ma- Johnny, what floor did you pick?”

There’s a pause before he answers, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Och, silly me,” Johnny laughs, the sound echoing in the metal walls. “Force of habit, bonnie, I picked my floor in my building. What’s yours?”

You try to laugh it off, but the way his fingers tighten almost imperceptiably against the crook of your elbow has you sounding a bit too stiff. “Four, please.”

“Four,” he hums, and you hear him press another button.

The ride up is a bit awkward, at least from your perspective. Johnny makes no attempt at conversation past the occasional hum along to the music, and you’re a little too on edge to worry about small-talk right now.

Calm down, you insist to yourself. He’s just being polite. Making sure you get home safe. You’ve got to stop seeing the worst in people.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to relax.

There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence when the door opens for the first time, both you and Johnny just waiting for it to close and take you to the proper floor. 

The doors are much quicker to open the third time, and you figure Johnny must live on the third or fifth floor in his own building for you to have gotten to your floor so quickly.

“What’s your apartment number, lass?”

You tell him, and his hold loosens slightly against your arm. There’s a part of you - the part still a little cautious for reasons you can’t quite name - that relaxes when the path he takes is familiar. Only a few steps, apartment on the right side of the hall.

“Let me get my keys,” you mumble, tugging your arm away from his and pulling your keychain out of your pocket. You’d opted not to bring a purse to your surgery, thinking you’d be riding the bus home mostly blind, so you’ve got virtually nothing to dig through before offering your keyring up. 

They’re taken, you hear the familiar jungling soun, and then you’re being guided into your apartment by a firm hand placed at the small of your back. You can’t help but sigh deeply in relief, the familiarity of your home a comfort when you still feel so unachored without your sight.

“Very cute place you’ve got,” Johnny compliments, a smile audible in his voice.

“Thank you.” You hesitate just a moment before going on, unsure of how to phrase your next sentence. “And thank you for all the help getting home, Doctor, I really do appreciate it.”

A.k.a., I’m safe, you can leave.

“Aye, of course!” Johnny says, sounding almost offended like you were implying he wouldn’t usually take his patients home. Another part of you relaxes - he probably does this for every patient he sees at the end of a workday, you’re certainly nothing special. “Now, let’s get you settled nice and snug in bed, and then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense!” You’re cut off as he drops a heavy hand onto the nape of your neck, ignoring your slightly dramatic flinch and guiding you forward. “I’ve gotten you this far, would be a shame if I left you now and you took a tumble, hm?”

“I think I can get around my own apartment well enough, “ you try to protest, a little huff of offense escaping without your permission.

“Well, now we won’t have to test that theory.”

He moves quickly and just seconds later you’re sort of shoved onto your bed - almost oddly high off the ground, but you chalk it up to the way you stumble onto it. 

Johnny scoops your feet up, laughs a little at your yelp and lays you out on the bed. You blink up into the dark glasses, a little gobsmacked at the sudden shift and odd amount of manhandling from the doctor.

“Do you have any pain meds, love? We wouldn’t want you wakin’ up in the middle of the night, all uncomfortable and hurt. Something light, like Advil or Tylenol?”

“Um, yes,” you stutter a bit, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and glancing up at where you hear his voice. “In my bathroom, on the counter. But Dr. MacTav-”

A hand presses into the center of your chest, forcing you back to the bed with a little oof before your hear him walk away. “Johnny, lass! What’ll I have to do to get you to call me the proper name, hm?”

His voice is almost jovial, and you hear him muttering to himself a bit through the open door of your bathroom before he returns. You hear water running for a moment, and then his shoes on the carpet of your bedroom as he comes back.

“Here,” he says as he grasps your hand, holding it palm open and dropping two pills into it. “And you had a spare cup in the bathroom, so you won’t have to swallow dry.”

“Thank… thank you, Doc- Johnny, truly, I appreciate it.” 

You swallow dryly, suddenly thankful for the glass of water. The pills are small in your palm, familiar but there’s something in the back of your head screaming at you. You run your fingers over them absentmindidly, the stinging itch in your eyes growing.

Johnny scoops an arm around your shoulders, helping you sit up a bit and guiding the glass to your lips. “Here you are, lass, quick sip.”

You listen, then pop the pills into your mouth and swallow them with the water.

“Good girl,” Johnny hums, his voice vibrating through your side. His hand squeezes the shoulder in his grasp, and you shudder out a breath at the odd… intimacy? That doesn’t quite feel like the right word, but affection feels too distant for how close he holds himself.

You’re guided back down, head resting on a somewhat-flat pillow, and Johnny moves down to the end of the bed to take off your shoes.

Now that you’re resting in bed, it hits you how exhausted you are. The past few days of worrying over your procedure, the actual stress of the surgery itself, and the odd tension you’ve carried since all leave you feeling drained entirely once your head hits the pillow.

“We’ll get these shoes off so you’re nice and comfortable,” you hear Johnny say, his voice a little muffled now that you’re nearly half-asleep already. “Tired, lass?”

You only hum a bit, curling onto your side once both of your shoes are off, the sound of them thudding on the carpet almost silent. Your nose scrunches a bit as you get your first scent of the pillow. It doesn’t quite smell right, the lingering air of shampoo is definitely not one you’re familiar with.

There’s a shift of weight against your back, then a hand stroking over your head.

“Just sleep, bonnie. I’ll watch out for you.”

There’s a part of you, still awake enough, that thinks that isn’t right. But the more major part of you is already asleep. 

———————————————————————

Johnny can’t help but smile as he watches you sleep. The little trail of drool dripping from your lips onto his pillow, the soft sounds of your breathing, the twitches to your expression as you dream.

You’re truly adorable. He’d known it as soon as you came for a consultation about the surgery, and every moment spent after has only cemented that in his head. Even the way you tensed and squirmed in his chair while he was working was cute, your desperation to be good and listen overpowering your fear of what he was doing.

He reflects on the day as he gets undressed, folding his clothes on your dresser. You’d been very nervous, and even his most soothing tone and friendly conversation topics hadn’t done much to help. It’s natural - nobody’s ever at ease with a scalpel held over their eye - but he’d still felt a little dissapointed that his presense wasn’t of much help calming you down.

But it’s alright. You’ll learn very soon that you can trust him.

It was easier than he’d expected to get you back to his home. You’re far too trusting, apparently - another reason it’s for the best if he keeps an eye on you - and past some clear tension in your stance, you hadn’t fought him once or even tried to make sure he had taken you to the right place.

Johnny’s certainly not going to complain, though. His plan had been half-baked at best. Honestly if you’d even put up a slight bit of resistance, he probably would have taken you back home - your home - and gone back to the drawing board.

He can’t help but smile a bit. The fact that you hadn’t fought at all is just more proof that this was meant to be.

He climbs over your body, his naked skin brushing against your clothes. You don’t shift at all as he rolls you to your back, your face still relaxed in sleep. His smile grows.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing a hand over your face. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

It’s easy to push your shirt up your stomach. He doesn’t take it off, not quite willing to risk that much movement while the drugs could still be settling in.

God, the way you’d just taken his pills with no hesitation, with just complete and total trust in him to do right by you. It makes his cock stifen against your stomach, the way you’d just listened and trusted him.

He moans as he finally pushes your shirt up to your collarbones, the sight of your tits bringing him to full hardness almost immediately. You’d dressed up for him, soft white lace wrapped around your beautiful chest. 

He ducks down to suck a peak into his mouth, tonguing at a nipple through the fabric. He groans a bit at the taste of your skin, muted as it is, and quickly tugs down the cup of the bra to get a real bite of you.

He could lay there at your tits for hours, he just knows it. He kisses his way across your chest, gives your other nipple some love and thumbing at the first with a free hand. He forces his movements to stay soft and slow, resists the urge to bite and leave a ring of teeth marks around your areola.

“Taste so good, baby,” he whispers as he pushes himself up, admiring the shiny spit across your skin. He rubs it in a little, spreading himself across any place his lips hadn’t touched. “Gonna let me get a taste of your pussy too?”

Obviously you don’t respond. Still, Johnny smiles down at you and moves to pet your stomach.

“Yeah, I know you will. Just wanna be a good girl for me, hm?”

Of course you do, he already knows you’ll be good to him - be good for him. 

It’s easy to wrap his hands around your waist and flip you gently to your stomach. He guides your head to the side and pulls your hair away to make sure he can get a good view of your pretty face, leans down to give you a soft kiss on the cheek and breathes in the scent of your bodywash and shampoo. 

Your pants are easy enough to get off, and he forces himself to tug them all the way off both legs before even looking at your sweet little ass. He’d been staring at any chance he could all day, had kept his eyes glued to your backside for the entire elevator ride up to his apartment when he was sure you couldn’t see his leering. 

Now he can’t help but groan aloud when he kneels over your thighs, the sight of you vulnerable and limp beneath him almost too much to handle.

“C’mon, spread your knees for me, lass,” he mutters, slowly moving your legs to the side and moving between them. He’s careful as he props you up onto your knees, folding them beneath you and making sure to balance you with one hand on your hip so you don’t fall to the side.

He’s nearly drooling as he gets his first sight of your core - lips just slightly spread, pretty pink pussy peeking out at him. It’s almost too much, he has to give himself a few quick jerks just to lessen the ache building in his cock.

“Look at you,” he says on a sigh, dipping his head low enough to breathe in your scent. He hikes your hips up a little higher to keep you at the right angle, quickly shushes your little noise of discontent at the shift.

“It’s alright, you’re ok,” he reassures, petting over your hip a few times to calm your unconscious mind. “Just wanna make you feel good, pretty thing. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

He licks you, from clit to ass, to help you calm down a bit more. It works - your body goes a little more limp in his hold, your back arching more easily into the position he wants. He licks you several more times, groaning as he tries to cover every inch of your cunt, tasting every piece of skin he can. He lays his tongue flat at first, then uses the tip to make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

“So good,” he moans, burying his face into your center and just breathing there for a moment. There’s a little bit of slick beginning to drip from your hole, but not much. He licks it up anyway, savoring the taste and promising to feast later. 

He stays glued to your clit for a bit, taking the little bud between his lips and running the tip of his tongue over it again and again until he finds the exact spot that makes your thighs twitch, the pattern that has you whining every other breath.

Johnny moves back up, laps at the sweet nectar dripping steadily from you now. Every little flick of his tongue arouses you more, and no matter how long he keeps his mouth on you he knows he’d never run out of your taste.

It’s with only a bit of reluctance that he pulls away. He spreads both of your cheeks with his palms, admiring your two tight little holes and the sheen covering your most sensitive spots. He’d like to give your ass a few smacks, paint it red and watch you squirm, but he’s not sure how much sensation he can give you without pulling you from the drugs’ hold.

Which is also why he tucks a few fingers into your cunt, just to stretch you out. He’d like to fuck into you without any prep at all, watch your pretty face scrunch up as you’re spread on the thickest cock you’d ever taken (and he knows he’s the biggest you’ve had). Maybe you would even cry a little, blink teary eyes up at him and ask him to slow down.

He groans at the image, scissoring his fingers inside of you to prepare you as quickly as he can. 

It’s easy to ease himself forward and line his cockhead up with your little hole. He knows another finger would’ve been a kindness, but with how his cock throbs between his legs he’s not sure he’ll make it very long once he’s finally inside of you. 

So he taps the tip against your leaking hole, snorts quietly when the thought pops into his head that he’s almost knocking on a door, then slowly lets himself sink inside of your heat. He’s stares transfixed at the way your body opens for him so easily, a smooth coming together that he wishes he never had to look away from.

He keeps a secure grip on your hips, letting gravity do most of the work as his hips push forward steadily. His head rolls back on his neck, mouth hanging open and grunts spilling from his lips as your tight heat envelops him further and further.

He pauses halfway in to take a breather, just so he doesn’t come before his balls even meet your clit. Your body’s grip on him is unlike anything he’s ever felt, and he knos he made the right choice in bringing you home with him.

It’s hard, but Johnny manages to control himself and keep from fucking you too roughly. His thrusts are long and slow if a little extra harsh, and he stares down at your scrunched up little face and imagines all the filthy ways he’ll have you in the coming weeks.

You shift on your knees when he hits a particularly nice spot, little whines pouring from your throat on exhales. His thrusts nearly punch the air from your body, and he finds himself breathing in sync with you as he loses himself more and more to the pleasure.

He slips a hand from your waist to your clit as he gets closer. It would be awfully selfish of him to leave you needy after getting himself off, and he’s not about to deny himself the tight clench of your body as he brings you to climax.

It takes a little bit of trial and error to figure out what feels good for you - he can’t quite discern the difference between a nose scrunch of frustration and one of pleasure - but the steady pumps of his hips and the constant motions against your clit quickly bring you to the edge.

Your cunt tightens deliciously around him as you finally come, but the true beauty is in the way you go absolutely boneless beneath him. He has to firm up his grip on your waist just to keep you from sinking flat on the bed, huffing a laugh as he thrusts just a bit faster, just enough to get himself there too.

He lets his head fall beside yours as the two of you ride out your climaxes together, staring wide-eyed at the way your face relaxes into the pleasure. He leans forward enough to mesh your lips together, messily forcing your mouth open and licking at your tongue.

It’s not the best kiss - he has to do all the work, and he ends up soaking both of your chins in spit - but he relishes in it anyway. Your first kiss together is something he knows he’ll want to remember for years to come.

He hardly notices as he slips from your body, tingles shooting through every nerve leaving him mostly unaware of his body’s functions. He hardly has the energy to make sure he doesn’t crush you beneath him, instead laying beside you and tucking you into his chest.

“Thank you, bonnie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was fantastic. Can’t wait to do it again, maybe you’ll do a bit more next time, yeah?” He laughs a little at his own joke, snuggling you close to him and letting his eyes shut slowly.

———————————————————————

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you wake up next, but you can tell immediately that something isn’t right. 

First of all, you’re half naked. And you can tell you’re half naked because your legs are being cradled by someone else’s naked legs. And you know for a fact that you didn’t bring anyone home with you.

Except… it occurs to you slowly as you finally blink stinging eyes open, except you did. Dr. MacTavish brought you home.

And you let him into your apartment. You just handed your keys over to a man you hardly knew, let him guide you right to bed without any sort of fight.

Your head pounds with a vengeance, right behind your already hurting eyes.

You let him give you pills, too. You remember that, though it’s the last thing you remember. He asked where your pain meds were and you didn’t even bother to check that he’d given you what you expected. You just swallowed them with water, like this was a man you could trust.

The slight soreness between your thighs tells you that you couldn’t.

The tears that begin to gather in your eyes hurt, which makes you want to cry even more. You can’t hold back a sniffle, then a hiccup, then what sounds more like sobs than anything else.

You bring your hands up to cover your mouth, briefly recoil and the weight over your torso.

You can’t bring yourself to look, but you know who’s in bed with you.

Johnny wakes up just minutes later, shifting and making a soft sound of confusion. It must not take him long to put the pieces together because it only takes him a few seconds to start cooing, his rough palm cupping your face over your own hands.

“Lass?” He hums, and from your peripheral you see his brows furrow. It’s only a slight comfort that you even can see. “What’s wrong?”

That almost gets a laugh out of you. You nearly choke on the sound, spit catching in your throat. “What’s- what’s wrong?”

He sighs, like he already knows. Of course he knows. He has to know.

“Don’t be upset.” He leans a little closer, and to your horror you feel him press his lips against your forehead. “You can be awake next time, yeah? Then you won’t feel so left out.”

“Left out,” you echo, a strain of horror making its way into your voice.

“But only if you can be good,” he clarifies. “No fighting me now. Just keep being good for me and you can stay awake, alright?”

“Good…” You feel like a robot, but the combination of your headache and the absurdity of your situation leaves you unable to process what’s happening.

It processes much faster when you feel one of his hands slide up the shirt you’re - by some miracle - still wearing. It’s instinctual to jerk up the bed and away when he goes straight for one of your breasts.

“Get- get off me!” Your voice is nearly a shriek, the pitch sending a shock of pain up your skull.

You don’t make it very far in your tiny escape attempt, Johnny quickly hefting himself above you and pinning you down with his weight.

“Now, lass,” he scolds, face set in a frown that you can’t tell is sarcastic or serious. “What did I just say?”

You can’t make yourself speak, fingers trembling beside your head as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“C’mon,” he goads, dropping his weight a little lower. “Just gotta do one thing for me to stay awake, tell me what it was.”

“I’m not-” you gasp a big breath, blinking up at the man above you. “I’m not fucking calming down! Get off of me, you freak, how dare you-”

“Alright!” He nearly shouts, drowning you out. “That’s enough of that. Back to sleep with you, I think. We’ll see if you can handle participating next time.”

He’s leaned to the side before you can really register what he’s said, scooping two little white pills into his palm and coming back over you.

“Open wide,” he taunts, lips curled into a small smirk as he holds his closed fist above your mouth.

Every instinct in you says to scream and shout, to fight back. But he’s got you pinned with your arms stuck between the two of you, unable to lift your hands and cover your mouth, so you clamp your lips as tightly shut as you can to keep him out.

Johnny only sighs, like you’re making his drugging terribly inconvenient. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out his face, praying that you’ll open them and this will all just be a terrible nightmare.

“Really, lass?” He complains, his free hand reaching up to pinch your nose. Without anything to hold him up, you’re nearly crushed beneath his body weight. “Very mature. I can pinch far longer than you can hold your breath, y’know. You’re making this difficult for no good reason.”

Your eyes fly open at that, glaring up at him with what you hope is a scathing look.

He only laughs.

“Very cute,” he hums, rubbing his nose against your cheek. Your chest burns from the lack of air. “I think you’ll be just perfect to keep around the house. You’ll brighten this place in all the right ways, won’t you?”

Your eyes well with tears as black stars begin to dance across your vision. Completely against your own will, your lips part and you suck in a deep breath.

Johnny doesn’t waste any time - you nearly choke on the pills as they fly down your throat with the air you desperately inhale. You nearly choke, hacking with tears streaming from your eyes, but Johnny just holds a hand over your mouth and brings you both up enough to harshly pat your back.

“There you go, you’re ok,” he mumbles in your ear, rubbing the place he’d slapped as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. The pills leave an uncomfortable lump in your throat, and you reach up to rub at it as if that will make it any better.

He stays like that, holding you close, for several long heartbeats.

“Good girl,” he hums, lips pressing to your temple and the sound rumbling through the contact. “I hope you won’t make me do that next time, I’d much rather you be awake for this next part.”

He lays you back slowly, and you distantly wonder what on Earth he’s given you to knock you out so quickly. Already your eyes feel heavier and you’ve hardly swallowed. You try to keep your eyes open as long as possible, which leaves you staring up at Johnny as he hovers above you.

“It’s not the worst thing, though,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek and thumb passing your undereye. “I don’t mind having you like this, soft and sweet for me.”

Your eyes finally flutter shut just as you feel your legs being nudged apart.

[taeyongdoyoung]

end of beginning

summary: your perfectionist self can't settle and wants to improve your grades. no matter the cost... pairing: johnny x reader genre: smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), dubcon, power play, neck-kissing, biting, spanking, fingering, slight dumbification, size kink (duh), unprotected sex, creampie, forbidden relationship, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart) word count: 1.5k

You have never felt so foolish as you do now, standing outside of your professor’s cabinet, waiting for his office hours to start. This isn’t like you at all. You are usually at the top of each class, amazing students and teachers alike with your well-written assignments and outstanding participation in the discussions. You are usually the one that professors praise.

To say you feel embarrassed would be an understatement. You are not used to this, asking for help, admitting that you are falling behind, that your grades have never been worse. But if you want to graduate successfully, you have to swallow your pride and face the problem head on.

You don’t know what it is about Professor Suh’s lectures but you just can’t seem to focus. You try to take detailed notes as you do in your other classes, but you end up getting so lost in his beautiful voice, staring at his pretty face and thinking about his big hands as they flick through the pages that your notes end up being messy, incoherent and awfully inaccurate.

You have tried different strategies such as asking other students for their notes but nothing seems to work. So, in your desperation, you end up here, waiting for Professor Suh to put you out of your misery. You hope that no one else shows up during office hours ‘cause it would be too mortifying if other students find out and start making fun of you for being so behind on the material.

“Oh, Y/N!” Professor Suh exclaims in surprise as he unlocks the door to his cabinet, letting you in. “How long have you been waiting? Usually no one comes to these office hours so I’m a bit late. You should have emailed me.”

You stand nervously, your fingers digging into the tender skin of your already sweaty palms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” you start to explain.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, it’s just unusual. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” he tries to reassure you in his calming voice.

You take off your bag, putting it on the ground and sit in the chair against his. God, you feel so stupid…

“So, what brings you here?” Professor Suh asks.

“You’ve probably noticed but my grades have been plummeting,” you murmur awkwardly.

“Well, if that’s what you call a couple of B’s, then sure, I guess,” he laughs softly.

“You don’t understand…I know other students may be happy with such grades but this is unusual for me.”

Professor Suh looks at you over his glasses in disbelief.

“You do realize that in real life nobody cares about grades, yes?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,” you reach to grab your bag but he stops you.

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help you.”

You exhale in relief.

“What is troubling you the most? Is it the material?”

“I don’t know…It doesn’t make sense because I love literature, it’s always come easy to me. I just have a hard time focusing during your lectures, for some reason.”

“Must be my fault, then,” Professor Suh smiles knowingly. “My teaching method isn’t engaging enough.”

“N-no, that’s not what I m-meant,” you stammer nervously. “I’m just…easily distracted, I guess.”

“Oh? Are you like that in your other classes, as well?”

“Not really, no,” you admit, feeling even more embarrassed.

“See? Then I guess I need to improve. Find a way to help you focus,” Professor Suh insists.

“Please help me. I really don’t want to fail your class, it’s very important to me.”

“Is it important to you because you care about your grades or because you don’t want to let me down?” Professor Suh asks staring into your eyes.

The question is so direct that it takes you off guard. You want to look away but you are so captivated you don’t dare to blink.

“I…don’t want to disappoint you, Professor Suh,” you confess. “Your lectures are very engaging and I enjoy listening to them.”

“Do you enjoy the content or the sound of my voice?”

“Professor…” you break eye contact and you are far too gone to think clearly. What is this man doing to you?

Suddenly, he stands up in all his glory, walks to your chair and lifts your chin up with his finger.

“Answer the question.”

“What…what was the question again?” you ask dumbly.

He shakes his head in disapproval.

“Just as I feared. Helping you focus would be quite difficult.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’ll try harder.”

“You better.”

Grabbing a book from his desk, he opens it and puts it in front of you.

“Read. Out loud. Don’t stop unless I tell you to, understood?”

You nod eagerly and start reading.

“We like to think of the old-fashioned American classics as children’s books. Just childishness, on our part.”

Professor Suh starts playing with your hair gently, surprising you but you don’t dare to stop and continue reading to the best of your abilities.

“The world fears the new experience more than it fears anything.”

He is kissing your neck, biting even, eliciting soft moans out of you. How is that going to help you focus?! You feel like your brain is no longer working.

“Keep reading,” he reminds you.

“Cutting away the old emotions and consciousness. Don’t ask what is left.”

Professor Suh makes you stand up and then pushes you down abruptly so that your breasts and tummy are lying on the desk and your ass is up in the air.

“And you can please yourself, when you read the Scarlet Letter, whether you accept what that sugary, blue-eyed little darling of a Hawthorne has to say for himself-” you continue to read, voice shaky and lacking any confidence.

He lifts your skirt up, touching you in all the right places in all the wrong ways. You are so terrified of what is happening but you are even more terrified of stopping to read.

Professor Suh spanks your ass harshly the second you pause briefly.

“N-no, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“Read,” he orders you and you have no choice but to obey.

“They didn’t come for freedom. Or if they did, they sadly went back on themselves.”

Professor Suh takes your panties off and slides his fingers inside your pussy easily, as you are embarrassingly wet. He assaults you vigorously, expecting you to keep reading.

“They came largerly to get away. In the long run, away from themselves.”

“You skipped a few sentences.”

Damnit, how did he catch that?

You go back to the parts you missed but your reading continues to be full of mistakes. Eventually, Professor Suh grows tired of that and takes the book away from you.

“I’m not sure this method is helpful,” he sighs and starts unbuckling his belt. “Might have to find another way for you to acquire knowledge.”

“S-sir?” your voice trembles, though you already anticipate what is coming.

“Stuff you full of it,” he explains calmly and enters you from behind.

You want to scream but you are so afraid of someone hearing that you bite your hand.

Professor Suh seems to notice your concerns, moves your hand away and presses his own against your mouth.

“Shhh, it’s okay, angel, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers gently while doing the opposite of what he’s saying.

He is so big that you feel as if he’s splitting you in half. Miraculously, you are still alive.

“You’re not good at focusing in my lectures anyway so I might as well give you something to remember during them,” he laughs. Oh, he’s so mean. You deserve it, though. For being so greedy. Not satisfied with a B. Stupid girl.

He removes his hand from your lips, trusting you not to make any loud noises.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Why ask now? He’s already gone this far…

“N-no, p-please,” you whimper helplessly.

“No as in stop or no as in keep going?”

You genuinely don’t know what the right answer is. If this is a test, then you’re surely failing.

Apparently, Professor Suh does not care what you have to say. Perhaps it’s your fault for being so slow…He keeps fucking you, going deeper inside of you than any man has ever been. Soon enough, he paints your walls white as if he’s an artist and not a literature professor.

You feel so dizzy, so brainless, so silly.

“Are you alive?” he asks, scooping you up into his big arms.

“N-no?” your response comes out with a questioning tone.

“Take all the time you need to recover,” he tells you thoughtfully.

“Can I ask you something, Professor Suh?”

“You should call me Johnny when we’re alone.”

“Oh, um…Johnny, what if someone had walked in?” you ask fearfully.

“Relax, sweetheart, I locked the door,” he laughs gently.

“Ah, that’s good.”

“Anything else you’re worried about?” Johnny plays with your breasts lazily as you sit in his lap.

“Um, yeah…”

“I’ll write you all A’s from now on if that’s what…”

“I don’t care about that anymore,” you confess teary-eyed. “Was this a one time thing for you, Johnny? Will I have to pretend nothing happened during your lectures?”

He caresses your hair just like how he did when this all started. For some reason, it doesn’t feel like the end.

“Oh, baby, this is just the beginning.”

The End

[wosoragebaiter69]

you’re ok, you’re enough

lena oberdorf x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: all feedback on my writing is appreciated, and hope you enjoy :) [even tho imo this is one of the worse fics i’ve written]

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

I’m not a footballer by any means, but I do know the difference whether someone is just physically exhausted from training and games. And, when they’re also exhausted in other senses.

I can immediately feel the tension when Lena walks in, her muscles are tense and her lips are quipped tightly.

“Lena?” She stops her movements and looks at me inquisitively. “I’m ordering in, anything in mind?” She shrugs walking off, not saying a word. I need to get something out of her. Get her to talk to me. We can’t continue like this.

I end up ordering our shared favourite food and she comes back in from her shower. I look up and it looks like she’s been crying. I furrow my eyebrows in concern but she just shakes her head dismissing it.

The food arrives and I plate it before giving it to my girlfriend who’s sitting on the couch, lost in thought. She looks up and smiles slightly, taking the plate of food, starting to eat. That’s one good sign at least.

During the meal, I make sure to keep an eye on her. She can probably tell, I don’t care though. She needs to know she’s not alone. No matter how stubborn she can be.

Dinner is done, I put the plates in the dishwasher.

No matter what, I am going to make sure she tells me what’s going on. I can’t sit by and watch as she shuts down completely.

“Lena.” I say softly sitting next to her, placing my hand on her thigh. She stares at me with an unreadable expression.

“I’m not sure exactly what you’re going through right now, but please. Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t sit back and watch as you tear yourself up. I won’t do allow you to do this to yourself.” I see she has tears in her eyes. She bites her lip looking away shaking her head.

“Baby, you and I both know how this ends. I won’t watch you shut everyone out. I know you’re scared, I know you’re collapsing. But I will try my best ok?” I watch as her body starts to shake, a sign she’s going to breakdown. Immediately, I pull her into my chest and allow her to sob into my shirt. I whisper words of affirmation hoping that she believes me, or even hears me.

You’re enough.

You’re ok.

I’ve got you.

I love you.

I’m here for you.

You’ll be ok.

After around 15 minutes of her crying, while I try my best to comfort her in anyway I can, her breathing starts to even out as the crying slows down. Soon enough she pulls herself up and looks into my eyes. I wipe the remaining tears off of her face and wait for her to say something.

“I…” She starts to speak but stops. I don’t say anything, just waiting to see what will be said.

“The pressure.” She begins. “Usually, I’m ok with everything, I’m ok with different titles but recently things have gotten harder and harder and I just… I don’t know how long I can keep going. People keep saying I’m the next best but I don’t feel like it and I don’t want it. I just want to play football without all of this. It’s so tiring.” She says with a shaky breath as I give her a small smile.

“Lena, I can’t tell you I understand because I don’t. You have so many people here, so many friends. You may not feel like you’re one of the best and you don’t need to be. Just be you, forget about everyone else’s expectations. Ignore what they have to say as hard as it may seem. Talk to people who might understand, maybe they can help take the burden. Make it easier for you. I know everything is wearing you out. Take a break, no matter how small. Do something you love. Hang out with Jule, hang out with me I don’t mind. Just try, not to let yourself get this low again. Please.” I say tilting my head.

She nods, allowing the words to sink in fully.

“Now, how about we get you to bed? I can imagine you’re tired.” Lena nods and we walk into the bedroom, only heading for the bed.

Once we’re laid down and her head is on my chest I whisper.

“You know how much I love you, right?” I can feel her smile.

“Ich liebe dich auch.” Then we both succumb to the sleep that awaits us after such an exhausting day.

[rubyuji]

The Reason for My Smile (Kim Mingyu) 🪡

“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” ✮⋆˙

Genre: Angst, Fluff

AU: University!au, Nonidol!au

Pairing: Ex!Chan x Fem!Reader, Brother’s Best Friend!Mingyu x Fem!Reader (Literally Seungcheol’s younger sister)

Warnings: A bit of cursing, a break up over text but that’s about it.

Synopsis: Diving into a long-term relationship is scary for anyone for that matter, except the breakup from yours had left you traumatized because it happened over text. From then on you vowed to never wear your heart on your sleeve ever again, but your brother’s own best friend promised to change your perspective.

Note: My first ever Seventeen fic on this account, so it’s still a work in progress, but it’s definitely something! (Esp since I haven’t written in awhile). It used to be an Enhypen fic originally, but it took a lot of editing and proofreading, along with a lot of changes. Happy reading! Don’t forget to like + reblog! It would mean the world.

Word Count: 7.7k words (I’ve never written so much)

Your relationship with Chan wasn’t precisely the dreamy or ideal relationship you had hoped for but as someone who had almost no experience, put that and being a people pleaser together, and you have whatever is left of your so-called relationship.

It’s not like Chan was a bad person or anything, the boy was quite the softie, so he’s probably just as overwhelmed as you were when it came to dating.

The latter part of the relationship consisted of you trying to understand him as best as you could, that was until inconsistencies started popping up a lot more.

Chan felt distant, he was more busy, despite the two of you being in the same major. That was the whole basis of your relationship after all. At the beginning of your relationship, it was sweet and full of the first times. Chan used to hold your hand, his other one holding your bag, as you would walk to the diner across campus and stay there for hours just talking about your day.

The soft gazes he’d give you whenever your eyes met, the flowers he’d give you on a random day, and the late-night calls wherein one of you ended up asleep. It was like a broken record that rewind itself during the late hours when you would start to question his love for you.

Those moments seem like old memories to you now as you see another apologetic text from your boyfriend. Another text where he promised to make it up to you and that he’d do better next time, it was starting to become a routine where you got stood up by him.

You wondered what on earth would keep your boyfriend so busy, especially when you both had ended up together because you took the same classes. You weren’t a slacker and always got your work done on time, so things weren’t adding up, especially when you both always tried to help one another.

The week after your midterms, you decided to visit your family and stay at home for a little bit.

Your family lived thirty minutes away from campus and you honestly couldn’t bother to make a drive that long every day, so you opted to stay in the dorms to save time, but on occasion, you would suck it up for a few days whenever your living space felt too tight.

Today was one of those days, but it felt a lot worse than you’d like to admit.

“Hey, I’m gonna go stay at my family’s for the weekend, and on Monday, just try not to make a mess here or anything.” You say to your roommate, Bora, who nods without looking at you.

Your roommate had an annoying habit of not looking at people whenever she was focused on her work, but you grew quite used to it and just shrugged it off after a few months.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I only ever have Chaeyoung or Hyewon over so no mess and no broken belongings. Have fun and say hi to Seungcheol for me if you see him, will you? Drive safe Y/n,” Bora finally turns to you from her bed and you laugh.

Seungcheol was a good brother and had a heart of gold, but you couldn’t handle your friends gushing over him in front of your face, it just felt weird when you grew up right beside him, the image of a younger Cheol picking his nose suddenly registering itself into your brain as you cringed.

You couldn’t care less about who he’d date though, it was none of your business, even as his little sister. As long as he didn’t end up hurt or hurting anyone, your brother was free to be with who he liked.

“Sure, I’ll leave a word when I see him. Tell me if anything comes up, and now I’ll get going! Bye, Bora!” You picked up your backpack and made the short walk to your car, ready to go home and lay on your childhood bed, which was admittedly more comfortable than the one you had in the dorm.

You text Chan about going to your family’s place, and the boy follows up with a thumbs-up emoji and an ‘I love you, stay safe’ text.

Your boyfriend didn’t have much to say anyway, and you were starting to grow bored with the way things were going. He probably felt the same way and you couldn’t blame him when you couldn’t keep your mouth shut either, since you seemed to be the only one exerting effort at this point.

He might even find you annoying now but didn’t have the heart to tell you because he was just that nice.

“Breaking up is honestly super tempting right now and I honestly can’t stand it anymore! It’s driving me mad, Cheol!” You whine as you stop at the intersection that leads into your neighborhood.

You didn’t mean to rub it in or anything, but you did live in a wealthier part of town, which explained the long drive home, and you were so glad to see the familiar area after a stressful trip.

It just so happened that halfway through the drive, your poor brother had to endure fifteen minutes of your rambling like some counselor even though he simply just wanted to check up on you.

“Y/n, just break up with him then, simple. It’s been months since you started telling me about how bad it’s getting, and honestly, I’m horrified to hear about what else is to come once you get here. I love you so much, really I do, but this boy is full of empty promises and lies,” Seungcheol sighs deeply.

The light turns green and you finally drive into your street, completely forgetting you were on the phone.

“Fuck don’t ignore me like that, I know how much you both liked your sweet puppy love phase, but get a grip Y/n. Chan is draining you, and he’s probably just as tired as you are. It’s time to stop hanging onto that year you both had,” You pull into your driveway and click your tongue.

Your brother was right, but it also killed you knowing you’d hate the thought of not having Chan around anymore. It was all easier said than done, especially when you felt incomplete without him.

“I see your ass in the driveway, Mom and Dad went out to get food so you have a fuck ton of explaining to do.” You see Seungcheol in the window and laugh before honking at him, scaring the living daylights out of him in the process.

“I’ll be in, like five. Let me get my bag ok? And tell Kkuma I’m here, I missed her.” You turn the engine off and grab your bag from the back, a wave of comfort and warmth washing over your form as you look at the house.

“Anyways, I’ve been contemplating on wanting to break up with him because I think he’s tired of me and maybe I did become quite annoying. Unless I’m invalidating my feelings and gaslighting myself into thinking I’m the problem,” You go on.

At this point, it was past dinner time and you and Seungcheol were in your room, dressed for bed and still talking about your problems. Poor Kkuma looked ready to curl up beside you and sleep but was forced to stay awake because of how miserable you were over some boy.

Seungcheol grimaced and set down a makeshift bed for the poor dog to lie on before turning to look at you with a concerned expression. “I think the latter, but you can be the judge of that. Now-” Cheol was cut off by your phone chiming and you turned to look at who on earth was texting you at one in the morning.

Your face turns pale as you look at the screen, and this automatically worries your brother, but his expression immediately hardens as he knows who it could be from.

“It’s from him isn’t it?” You nod slowly, the tears starting to fall from your eyes, dripping down your cheeks and onto the comforter you were on. Every word hit you like a ton of bricks, you felt helpless.

From: Chanie ^^

I think we need to break up. This relationship is holding me back and it’s starting to feel like a chore, I’m sorry I couldn’t do enough for you Y/n. I started to grow bored and you irritated me to no end, I don’t even think we would work even if we tried. This is my last goodbye to you, I’m sorry again that it had to end this way but I’m still young and feel like I’m not ready for something as serious as this.

You showed Seungcheol the message, only then realizing that your number was also blocked, preventing you from saying anything more. You were appalled, to say the least, your mouth hanging wide open as choked sobs started to come out slowly.

A year, a year went to waste with the person you thought would understand you best, the person you thought would hold your heart close to his, only for him to break it. The person who did the most and still managed to disappoint you.

Seungcheol held you close and you cried into his chest, Kkuma was suddenly on the bed licking your face and the world fell still at that exact moment. The moment you vowed to never trust anyone with your heart ever again.

You were a mess the rest of the semester following the text, crying on the couch the entire weekend as Seungcheol tried to console you, along with your oldest brother, but nothing worked.

You did go to class as normal, but you completely shut everyone out and limited socializing to only your family and friends until after finals.

Your break was coming up, and you were honestly relieved, to say the least. Bora was on the other side of the room getting ready to go home to see her family as well, packing up everything on her side in the process, but then you heard her huff as a pillow hit your head, interrupting the silence that was shared.

“What the fuck Kim?” You whined, taking the pillow and hugging it. Bora plants herself on the spot next to you, you look at her with a frown as she laughs.

“I’m gonna miss you roomie, but I’ll visit you often either way since you’re technically my best friend now. Now stop frowning, Chan was an idiot for breaking up with you. How you managed to get through the rest of the semester, I will never know, but you should go put yourself out there again! There’s bound to be another guy ready to treat you better, so stop moping ok? I know it’ll be hard, but I promise it’s not that bad. Have a bit of fun with it,” You pout at Bora’s words.

She was right, but the breakup over a text fiasco left you traumatized. Chan wasn’t the best boyfriend, and you both had your moments, but you weren’t ready to trust someone again just yet.

What if it ends the same way, or even worse? What if you were too boring? Questions swirl through your mind but Bora snaps you out of it.

“Hey, take it easy. Let’s hang out over break, just us girls showing Chan what he’s missing out on! Can you believe he left you? You’re a gem Y/n, a lot more people want you than you think. Now hurry up and pack the rest of your things!” You take in Bora’s words and nod.

It would be hard, but taking baby steps and meeting new people wouldn’t hurt. No rushing into serious connections just yet.

When you got home that day, you were happy enough to lay on your bed once again, all worries and concerns gone for the next few months. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door and see Seungcheol walking in. You raise your eyebrow at him and your brother chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I was wondering if maybe we can hang out? Like all of your friends and mine,” Seungcheol looks down and plays with his fingers nervously. You were confused by his proposal but urged him to continue.

“Look, I like Bora and Minghao has this huge crush on Hyewon. Can you at least help us? Please? Look, I’ll take you shopping and even buy you food if I have to,” Your brother sounded like he was pleading almost so you really couldn’t help but feel bad.

“Cheol it’s ok, I’ll take you up on the shopping, now give me a date so I can tell the girls.” You smiled softly. Seungcheol punches the air and you laugh at his antics, you knew Bora also had the biggest crush on him so setting them up would be a breeze. Hyewon was a mystery you had yet to uncover though.

“I barely know your friends though, like I’ve met Jeonghan but who the hell is Minghao and how does he know about Hyewon?” Seungcheol lies down beside you on the bed and opens his phone, showing you a picture of him and three other guys.

Seungcheol then starts pointing out the two new faces to you. The lean and prince-looking one was Minghao and the tall, puppy-looking guy was named Mingyu. You couldn’t help but pay more attention to Mingyu, he was really attractive and you wanted to get to know him.

“Anyways, they’re the two new people in my frat. They’re super cool and like-” “Are you gonna bring Mingyu?” You cut him off mid-sentence, still in awe at Mingyu. Seungcheol’s brows knit and he rolls his eyes at you whilst you stick your tongue out at him.

“What happened to not dating? Come on Y/n, be serious,” You slap your brother’s face jokingly, the male screaming dramatically from beside you.

You didn’t want to get your heart broken again, but putting yourself out there wouldn’t hurt, as long as it didn’t get too serious, you were going to be ok.

“Shut up, it’s not like it’s gonna be a super serious thing just yet. Mingyu looks like a total hottie, I just wanna get to know him, have a little fun and get a bit of attention again,” You were ass at lying, so Seungcheol could only laugh at you.

“I trust you with him, Mingyu’s a very easygoing guy if that’s important to you. He’s also super single because he’s waiting for the right person,” he smirks at you.

Easygoing? And he’s waiting for the right person? On top of all that he’s cute and your brother trusts him with you? It sounded too good to be true.

You were happy for a moment, but doubts started to cloud your judgment once again. He sounded like a good guy, but how long until he turns into Chan and gets bored of you? It was starting to scare you again.

“Cheol, I don’t know-” Your brother gives you a serious look and sits up.

“I hope you understand that he’s not Chan, Y/n. Not all relationships are going to be like your last unless you try to take that leap. I promise you, he’s not a bad guy. Like, if he hurts you, I’ll hurt him because you mean a lot to me” You nod at Seungcheol, finally thinking positively and securely.

Not everyone is going to be like Chan, you knew that, but your memories and feelings for the boy held you back.

“Now, how does nineteenth sound?” Your brother asks you. You text your friends, immediately getting the green light from the three of them, Bora sounding the most excited.

“Perfect, and your girlfriend is just as excited as you are,” Cheol’s face turns a deep red before he runs out of your room in embarrassment, yelling about something along the lines of planning the perfect outfit. You guessed it was probably to impress Bora anyway, so you didn’t question him.

The silence of your room welcomes you once again and you are back into your thoughts. Mingyu sounded like a guy who would take someone seriously, maybe it’s just what you needed because guys your age didn’t have that much to go off of.

He was Seungcheol approved, and you told yourself that a million times, only because he hadn’t approved of anyone else but Mingyu. Chan could get past your parents and oldest brother, but not Cheol, so it was an odd situation to be in.

“I’ll figure it out later, right now, I need to sleep.” You put your phone off to the side and close your eyes.

Hopefully, you’ll be able to figure everything out once the nineteenth rolls around, both Seungcheol and Bora did say similar things, so maybe those two had a point. ‘No wonder they like each other, they’re the same person,’ you thought as the sleep took over.

Two days had passed and the dreaded day had rolled around much quicker than you had anticipated. As you put on light makeup, your friends are in the background screaming at each other throughout the entirety of your Facetime call because you all decided that it was a good idea to get ready together.

“Bora, it’s Seungcheol! He’s like Y/n’s male version so you don’t need to freak out that much! Now Y/n, show us the fit. You’re the only one who didn’t show us yet!” Hyewon whined over the phone.

“I’m wearing a gray long-sleeved, asymmetrical knit top, black skirt, and combat boots. For hair, I’m leaving it down and wavy, I don’t care much,” You say softly.

The girls suddenly burst out laughing as you put on your outfit, they didn’t seem to believe you one bit when you said you didn’t care because they knew you genuinely did care and tried not to.

“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” Your friends hum in agreement until you hear the door behind you open.

“Y/n— Are you calling your friends right now? We’re leaving in a minute because Mingyu’s driving so hurry your ass up will you. Also hi Bora! Hi Hyewon and Chaeyoung,” Seungcheol grins stupidly.

You roll your eyes at your brother for obviously singling Bora out and tell your friends that you are going to see them in a bit.

“Bye, Y/n! Have fun looking at your new boy toy driving, already a huge upgrade from Chan!” Wonyoung laughs.

You end the Facetime call with a roll of your eyes before turning to look at Seungcheol with an eyebrow raised. Seungcheol puts his hands up defensively before you both hear a car honking outside.

“Mingyu’s here, grab your bag, and let’s go!” You huff as your brother rushes you, he was practically itching to see his crush, and embarrassingly enough, you too were excited to meet Mingyu and Minghao.

With your bag in hand, along with your phone, you finally follow Cheol outside and see a Range Rover of the latest model in black. Damn, Mingyu was in a different league that was for sure.

Seungcheol opens the door for you as you head in. You see Jeonghan riding shotgun and Wonwoo in the back smiling at you. “Y/n! So happy to see you again, I think this is your first time meeting Mingyu and Minghao,” Jeonghan says from the front.

You squeeze in the center comfortably and nod. Wonwoo was cute, he greeted you politely and was very friendly, but when your eyes met Mingyu’s, you suddenly became quite flustered. He held a sharp gaze, the watch on his wrist not helping you in the slightest.

“The shopping center downtown right?” Seungcheol nods at Mingyu’s words, his deep voice causing you to flush. You prayed to whoever was up there that you would at least survive the day because the tension in the car with him was enough to drive you nuts.

“So Y/n, how’s that thing with Chan?” You freeze up when Jeonghan suddenly brings up your ex, but you forget not everyone knew about the devastating breakup over text.

“We broke up over text...” You reply awkwardly. Jeonghan gasps as your brother runs his palm down his face, he knew better than anyone not to bring up Chan during the time you were still trying to move on.

“Hyung, give her a break. Sounds like it must’ve been rough, I’m sorry about that. He seems like a shitty guy, breaking up with you over text? Are you sure this isn’t a sitcom Y/n?” Mingyu speaks up as he looks at you from the rearview mirror. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly, nodding in embarrassment, but for some reason, you were shocked upon hearing Mingyu’s words.

Wow, he really picked Chan apart in a way you wouldn’t ever dare to. His bluntness snapped you right back to reality and you could hear Minghao chuckle from beside you. “What’s so funny?” You raise a brow at the boy.

“Mingyu hasn’t been this disheartened over anything in a while, it’s crazy that he’s already scrutinizing your ex based on how you broke up,” Minghao explains. Mingyu glares at him and huffs, looking so done and just ready to explain himself.

“Listen, in my personal opinion, I think breaking up with a long-term partner over text is stupid and a cowardly move. There were so many other ways he could have gone about it but over text? At least call or something instead, it’s super disrespectful towards your partner to leave them hanging without proper closure.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets upon hearing the reason behind his agitation.

So far, Mingyu was seriously proving you wrong the more he opened his mouth to say something, but you still weren’t ready because what if he’s even worse? The feeling still lingers and it’s almost like the ghost of your ex is not letting you go just yet.

“Mingyu’s right, I thought you both had something to be fair. Seeing how puppy love was just a phase makes me think I was quite wrong, you deserve better. Like Mingyu here for example! He’s very single and is looking for the right person, which could be you.” Jeonghan jokingly says.

You notice Mingyu’s ears turn red as he pulls into the shopping center. The car was suddenly filled with an awkward silence, everyone stunned at the oldest’s proposition. You and Mingyu had just met, what was he on about with you being his possible partner? It was crazy.

After Mingyu had parked his car, you all made your way toward your designated meeting spot. You could see Cheol and Minghao freeze up upon seeing Bora and Hyewon, causing a laugh to make its way out of your throat.

“Y/n! Over here!” The girls beckoned you over as you purposely ran in their direction to tease the guys.

It was a day to bring them together was it not? Yet you still took the opportunity to tease the boys as you wished. It was pretty funny to look at their reactions knowing they liked your friends.

“Hi guys, I brought Cheol and Jeonghan. The newbies are Minghao and, Mingyu” You say with a pause. Your friends squeal wildly at the mention of Mingyu’s name, shoving you with their elbows as you all laugh.

“Minghao is so cute actually, is he single by any chance?” Hyewon smirks, eyeing the male up and down.

You giggle and nod, your friend had no idea that the said boy was here for her, which made your job of setting them up much easier. Your work was basically cut out for you the moment they laid their eyes on each other.

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know in a bit. For now, let’s all focus on having fun today shall we?” You sling your hand over Bora’s shoulder, not noticing Mingyu’s intense stare at your form. Seungcheol and Jeonghan notice the action, causing the two of them to nudge the boy playfully.

“Bro, go shoot your shot. There’s so much tension between the two of you, I hope you know that” Cheol laughs.

Mingyu shakes his head at his words profusely, there was no way he was going to overstep a boundary, even if it was Seungcheol himself encouraging it.

You notice the boys talking amongst themselves but decide to shrug it off, they were probably planning their moves on your friends, but how do you tell them that they didn’t even need to try that much? They all seemed to like each other after all.

Between Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s continuous pestering, Mingyu had felt your gaze on them, causing his cheeks to grow hot. You were really pretty, and that goes without saying, but you had just gotten out of something long-term.

The time needed to heal you first, or at least that’s what he thought, since his mom had always taught him to be patient with the ones he loved or cared about.

“Give her time guys, I don’t think I can just rush in like that. Y/n came out of a slightly traumatizing event, so if you jump right in, it will only push the person away further. I should be friends with her at most while we’re still getting to know each other,” Mingyu makes eye contact with you and notices how you quickly avoid his eyes.

The day had gone by quite smoothly since then, each of you dispersing into little pairs after a while because your friends couldn’t seem to help themselves, which is what led you to where you were now. In a store, with Mingyu, picking out clothes for him to try on.

You had nothing better to do anyway, so why not style your brother’s hot friend, even though Mingyu himself already had impeccable fashion taste?

You bite your lip as you focus on the outfit, visualizing what it would look like on Mingyu, and how you could coordinate everything.

Mingyu thought it was adorable with how much thought and focus you had decided to put in when you were only doing this for fun, he ultimately decided to buy the outfit once he was done trying it on.

“Here, sorry I took so long. I haven’t styled anyone since my ex and my older brother, so this is the best you’re gonna get for now,” You handed him the items in your arms and pushed him toward the fitting rooms, eager to see how well you did.

“It’s no problem because you did put the time and effort into styling me, I might go ahead and buy it if it does end up being my style,” Mingyu smiles at you softly.

He was sweet, you had to admit. It wasn’t like Chan had noticed you putting effort into styling him so a little affirmation made your heart swell.

“You don’t have to, I kind of play around with it. I bet you will look good since you seem like you’d look good in anything” You admit shyly.

Mingyu was fun to be around, even if it was your first time meeting, you already felt as if you had known the man for a while. All around Mingyu was just considerate and one of the best people you could’ve ever met.

“Yeah, sure you do, I know you put a lot more effort either way. Let me try this on now, otherwise, I’d be too distracted looking into your eyes. Give me a minute and I’ll show you how it looks,” You nod as Mingyu closes the curtain, only then taking in what he had said to you. He was not being serious but was so smooth with how he flirted with you just now.

A minute had gone by and you heard Mingyu call your name, so you made your way over, only to find your heart nearly falling out of your ass the moment you saw him. He looked so good, great even, and you couldn’t help but stare.

Mingyu adorned a white shirt underneath a black zip-up jacket, adding detail by zipping up the bottom of it, and light-wash jeans. It was a really simple outfit, but you had to admit, he did tie the whole look together.

“How does it look? I think you did well honestly, I’ll buy the entire outfit right now. Let me go change so we can go meet up with the others,” Mingyu smiles.

You were amazing at what you did, it impressed him how you were able to pull such an outfit together in just a few minutes.

“I think it looks great, I’m flattered you like it so much that you’d buy it right now. Maybe I can style you again if there is a next time?” You reply shyly. You couldn’t meet Mingyu’s eyes because he looked so good.

From that moment on, Mingyu made it his mission to heal your heart and prove to you that you deserved a second chance at being treated better.

He had come to your house quite often and taken you out a few times, so much to the point that everyone around you started noticing that you were almost always with each other.

“You know what, this is the happiest I’ve seen you. Your relationship with Chan started to strain and you had become more dull and miserable, but being around Mingyu gave you a new kind of glow for some reason,” Chaeyoung quips.

You tilt your head in confusion, you liked his company but you hadn’t noticed any other changes.

“He’s great, but I’m still hesitant. You know how I am, as I get he’s not Chan, but who knows how everything would play out in the long run?” You say sadly.

Mingyu was more than amazing, he respected your wishes not to have a relationship, but still treated you in ways people could only dream of, but in his words, he was ‘courting’ you, something people don’t do much these days.

He was attentive, took care of you well, and would always be there for you no matter what. He truly was the real definition of being ‘one call away’. This was all so new to you, even being courted was something totally out of the ordinary.

“Y/n, he’s courting you. Not enough people willingly do that these days, so you have the guy wrapped around your finger. He’s patiently waiting for an answer from you, like do you remember everything you’ve told us?” Hyewon huffs out from above you as she is doing your hair.

It was girl’s night and you had decided to bring up your worries and updates to your friends, but you had forgotten the fact that you had also told them the details about your escapades with Mingyu.

From where you would go to what you did, down to the time he took you home, and if Seungcheol truly did approve of him.

“Did Chan ever actually think about how you felt in a certain situation? You know besides you telling him it’s ok and all? Usually being together with someone for over a year would allow you to read them better, but Chan barely knew your little habits. Bora took them in after a month of knowing you, which is concerning. Now on to Mingyu, what did he say that one time?” Chaeyoung snaps her fingers and you instantly know what she is talking about.

You came home one day and had gone the whole day without eating. You were out with your parents and they hadn’t considered if you were hungry or not since they were busy and had already eaten, so when you got home, you quietly slipped next to Mingyu in the living room after seeing the guys watching a movie.

“Hey, you’re home. How was spending the day with your parents?” Mingyu whispers from beside you. You shrug and he gives you a look that encourages you to tell him more.

“I hadn’t eaten anything, but honestly it’s ok now since I’m not hungry at all…” You trail off.

Mingyu shakes his head and takes his phone out, but you go over to stop him. He shouldn’t spend anything on you, and you already told him you weren't hungry so you felt as if you were only bothering him.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” You see your favorite restaurant on the delivery app on his phone and blush. Did he remember your favorite restaurant and order? That was sweet of him.

“No it’s ok I can manage,” You pretended not to see him already inputting the order and paying for it, but you still couldn’t help it when your stomach growled loudly. Mingyu raises a brow at you as you chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m getting you food, I know you’re hungry” Mingyu laughs. You hit his shoulder but thanked him gratefully for even thinking of you, it was a small gesture but it still meant a lot.

“How about that time he got you flowers for no reason?” Bora says while laughing.

You roll your eyes, she was the first person you had freaked out to over the phone because Mingyu had gotten you a bouquet of roses on a random Thursday with Seungcheol.

“What’s this?” You ask as Mingyu sets down a bunch of fresh roses wrapped in brown paper on the counter in front of you. Cheol and Mingyu had just gotten back from grocery shopping for your mom and then Mingyu came back with flowers, of course, you would be confused.

“I got you flowers because we saw them on the way out, and I thought you'd like them” Mingyu started taking out the groceries from the bags as your brother walked in with the last batch from the car. You flick Cheol’s forehead, but the older male can only smirk and laugh at you.

“Why? There’s no occasion,” You try to excuse, but you couldn’t hide how flustered you were.

Mingyu had thought of you while they were out? He did mean it when he said he wanted to treat you better.

“Can I not get you flowers even if there’s no occasion? Y/n, you don’t need to ask or have a reason to receive flowers, I hope you know that. I’m surprised this hadn’t been done for you more often than not” Mingyu’s back was still turned toward you, which you were thankful for because you probably looked like a tomato at that moment.

That night poor Bora had to endure an earful from you, just because Mingyu was a great guy who treated you the way you deserved.

Thinking back at those moments, you could only see the good in Mingyu, so you wanted your friends’ approval. He was already brother and parent-approved so that only left your best friends.

“Well, do you guys think I should finally give him an answer? It’s been a few months, and even if I am scared, I can’t let this chance go.” Hyewon finishes up your hair and pats your head, signaling her answer. You look at the others, who only grin back at you and you laugh.

“Y/n, he’s been a green flag since the beginning. It’s a good opportunity knowing he’s the type that’s ready to settle down,” Bora also brings up.

Seungcheol had always emphasized that Mingyu was a date-to-marry and long-term relationship kind of guy, which makes sense as to why you were one of the first people he had ever been super serious with when it came to dating.

“You guys are always the best, I’m glad everyone around me approves. I mean, I won’t know until I try right?” Chaeyoung hugs you and you sigh in content.

You were finally moving on, you were finally healing. It felt fulfilling in a sense, and knowing you were finally starting a new chapter with a great person, you felt as though your life was finally turning out for the better.

After a chaotic girls’ night, you had called up Mingyu to meet you at your favorite cafe that the two of you frequented. You were quite nervous, to say the least, but you were ready to take this huge step of moving on with the person who treated you right.

You hear the bell of the cafe chime, and you finally see the person you were expecting. Mingyu walked in, his hair down in its usual state, and in a casual but comfortable outfit.

He looked like he had just come from the gym. Your heart raced at how good he looked, he always did look his best whenever he came to see you, and you always appreciated the effort.

Mingyu spots you and walks over with a wide smile. He was always so damn charming, you couldn’t believe he was all yours. He pulls out the seat in front of you and plops on it, his attention fully on you. ‘Attentive as always, I don’t deserve you,’ you thought.

“You wanted to talk?” Mingyu finally breathes out upon seeing you. You nod and take his hands in yours, you were going to tell him how you finally felt because he deserved an answer. He had already done so much for you, the least you could do was show him that all his efforts were finally paying off.

“I think I’m ready to give you my answer. The past few months you had decided to court me and I’m thankful you were patient enough to wait for my answer. You’ve proved to me that relationships aren’t limited to how I and my ex went about ours and that if a guy wanted to do something, he would. So my answer is already set, I’ll be your girlfriend, Gyu.” You look up at him, only to see Mingyu grinning like an idiot.

He was elated, he finally got the answer he was waiting for and you saying yes only made it a hundred times better. Mingyu fully understood how much your last relationship had affected you, so he only made it a point to court you, knowing you weren’t ready for a commitment just yet.

He wanted you to be ready for him to love you and treat you the way you deserved, so he didn’t push it and waited for you to come around on your own, which you did.

“You have no idea how happy and relieved I am to hear you say that. Y/n, I’m so glad you gave me the chance to love you and care for you. I’m glad you gave me the chance to prove myself to you. I promise I will not hurt you in any way at all, and I promise to be as communicative as possible with my feelings so that you don’t end up in the dark. I want you to know everything because you deserve it,” Mingyu admits, not breaking his gaze on you.

“Mingyu, you’re everything I could’ve ever asked for. I don’t know what else to say. The past few months I’d been so scared to love again, to give a relationship another chance, but you’ve proved me wrong and even waited for me to be ready. You don’t understand how much that means to me,” You continue to fidget with his hands, but then he suddenly takes yours and places a kiss on your knuckle.

You blush at the action, you weren’t used to feeling or receiving this kind of affection since it had been quite some time, but with Mingyu, you weren’t afraid of anything, because you trusted him as much as he trusted you.

Needless to say, even months after you had given Mingyu an answer, he remained the same and still acted like he was courting you.

The only difference? He was finally your boyfriend and you were finally his girlfriend. You felt how serious he was about you when he had even introduced you to his parents, and they were just as lovely as their son was.

“Mom wants to go shopping with us on her birthday this weekend, I told her I would take her on a birthday date but she insisted you come along. She loves you that much already,” Mingyu chuckles as he walks into your room, fresh out of the shower. You laugh, his mom was the sweetest person, and you finally understand where your boyfriend gets it from.

“I’m down if she’d like, but you’re not getting me anything ok? You already spoil me enough and I don’t want you to spend too much–” You squeal as you feel Mingyu’s arms around you, the two of you falling flat on the bed.

Before you two could move from your position, you heard a knock at your door. It was Seungcheol, and you immediately pulled away from Mingyu once you saw him, still flustered and embarrassed from the previous action.

“Hey, if you two are going to be in the house, at least have some decency while I’m here!” Your brother whines.

You laugh and see him let Kkuma in the room. She had been with Cheol the whole day, so you and your siblings usually took turns spending time with the dog. You were the sibling in Kkuma’s night shift, meaning you had to take the dog in for the night since she liked sleeping in your room.

You thank Cheol for letting Kkuma in and bid your brother goodnight. Once the door closed, you looked over to see your boyfriend on the floor with Kkuma laying on her back.

“Hey, that’s my dog! Kkuma, you can’t just steal my boyfriend like that, and Gyu you can’t just do that to my child!” You joke. They looked perfect, and suddenly you start to imagine what your little family with Mingyu would look like.

Mingyu was the perfect partner to settle with, after all, he was caring and dependable, but also super honest and was not afraid to show or express how he felt. He just knew whenever you weren’t up to do something, or if something was bothering you.

“Is something wrong?” Mingyu noticed that you were more quiet than usual today because you almost always told him about your day. He noticed how your smile hadn’t reached your eyes and how you were fidgeting with your fingers more.

“It’s nothing” You tried to brush it off, but truthfully, you weren’t doing well. You just didn’t have the strength to let him know or the strength to explain how you felt, all you wanted to do was rest and go to sleep.

“Y/n, you can tell me anything ok? Be as open as you want to be, I’m always here for you and will not judge you no matter what. If you don’t have the energy to tell me, it’s ok. Just rest here” You feel his arms being wrapped around you as he strokes your hair. The action was small but it helped you ease up a lot.

“It’s hard Gyu, I don’t know how to deal with everything. I don’t have the energy to stress over anything right now,” You whisper. Mingyu rocks you back and forth, still playing with your hair as he places kisses on your forehead.

“Whatever it is you’re going through, I hope you know that I’m proud enough that you decide to wake up every day and do everything with a smile, even if the world has wronged you. you’re so brave and amazing Y/n, please do not ever doubt yourself” Mingyu replies softly.

“Gyu, you don’t understand how much your words have helped me” You kiss him softly. You felt so lucky to have him, he was beyond the best partner you had ever been blessed with.

“Mingyu, could I ask you something?” You say suddenly. The two of you were at his parent’s place since Mingyu had decided to take you to his childhood home in Anyang as a gift for your four-month anniversary.

“Mhm?” He hummed, putting down a plate of food on the coffee table in the living room, and sitting next to you on the couch.

“Why haven’t we said I love you to each other at any point in our relationship just yet? The others have asked me about it, but I just can’t come up with an answer to get them to leave me alone,” you whine. Mingyu laughs and kisses your cheek gently.

“Tell them that saying I love you isn’t easy when it comes to us, you haven’t said it either so we’re simply making sure that I can say it when the time is right. It’s not that I don’t or anything, but those words aren’t exactly an easy thing to just pop out there. The time will come when we can both say it meaningfully. Right now, we are still early into our relationship and have a lot to learn. I hope you understand where I’m coming from” he tells you.

It wasn’t that hard to understand what he meant. Mingyu had always been more careful, even if he didn’t say I love you, he still affirmed you and expressed his love for you in his actions.

Loving someone still comes in many forms, so the words I love you could wait because they should come from a place where you both fully understand and can comprehend how meaningful the three words are.

“I honestly think the same way, in a sense, I’m glad you’re honest about how you feel because I’ve been in a place wherein I was pressured into doing the action just because it was normal for everyone else, but not all of us are the same. Thank you, Gyu, you’re always the best with words.” Mingyu holds you close and you both sigh in content.

He wanted to treat you better, and he did. He wanted to show you better, and he expressed it in the best way possible.

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