#has this already been done? sorry if it has it just came into my head randomly

[tavukwings]

DISCORD USER KÖNIG Part 2 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝓊𝓉𝓎

(König x Reader — Discord Friends, Slow Burn, Soft, Eventual Smut)

Taglist:

@poltergeist404 @laduenadelswing @dillybuggg @illonvk(i can’t tag you??😭) @whore4romance

4 Days Earlier – Discord, 1:13 AM

You:

“König? You alive?”

“You didn’t rage-quit life, right?”

“Don’t make me send memes. I’m armed.”

Silence.

No online status. No “typing…” No pings.

You sat there staring at his name in the server list—dark grey. Offline. Like a light had been switched off.

He’d gone dark before. Missions, spotty signal, sleep. But never this long. Four days with no update, not even a vague emoji or one of his weird, dry messages.

Your chest had that familiar ache. The one that crept in when you worried too much about someone who hadn’t promised you anything. He wasn’t yours.

But God, you missed him.

⸻

Tonight – 11:37 PM | Ping

König is online.

Your hand shot out like it moved on instinct. Mouse click. Open chat.

König has joined the VC.

No message. No warning.

Just his name lighting up the voice channel.

You scrambled for your headset, heart thudding.

You:

“König?!”

A pause. Crackle. Mic fuzz.

Then—his voice.

König (quiet, hoarse):

“…Hallo.”

One word.

But it hit you in the chest like a punch. Low, deep, exhausted. And something else. Like all the energy had been drained from him, leaving only that voice and the breath it rode in on.

You (softly):

“Where have you been?”

Silence.

You heard a sigh. Long, tired.

König:

“Mission. Remote. No contact. Sorry.”

He never said sorry.

Not unless he meant it.

You:

“Could’ve left a dramatic goodbye. A ‘if I die, delete my search history’ kind of thing.”

A dry chuckle through the mic.

But it didn’t reach his voice fully.

König:

“I didn’t want to leave.”

Something in you froze.

It wasn’t a flirt. Not a tease.

Just honesty.

You (quiet):

“You okay?”

A longer pause.

König:

“…No.”

Your breath caught.

There were layers to that word. Fatigue. Pain. Guilt. You waited, giving him space to speak. He always came to things on his own time.

König (muffled, low):

“Two men. Squadmates. Dead.”

You:

“König…”

You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? “I’m sorry” felt cheap. And he’d already heard that enough.

He exhaled hard, like he was trying to push something out that wouldn’t move.

König:

“I hesitated. I… was too slow.”

You:

“That’s not your fault.”

König (strained):

“It is. I froze. I’ve done this job for ten years. That doesn’t happen.”

You could hear the anger in him now—not at you. At himself. His voice trembled, a low, hot undercurrent of shame.

König:

“I was thinking of you.”

Your breath hitched.

You (carefully):

“Me?”

König:

“I was pinned. Behind a crate. Shot ringing past my head. And all I could think was—”

He cut himself off.

Static filled the silence.

Then:

König (quietly):

“All I could think was, if I die now… I’ll never hear you laugh in person.”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

Your throat was tight. Fingers frozen over your keyboard.

König (softer):

“I’ll never get to… see you. Not through a screen. Not in pieces. You’d never even know.”

You swallowed hard.

You:

“I’d know.”

A pause. Heavy.

You (softer):

“I would’ve noticed. I would’ve waited. And waited. And known something was wrong.”

Another long silence.

König:

“I didn’t think this would happen. You. Us. This… feeling.”

He sounded raw. Stripped bare. No mask. No walls.

König (almost ashamed):

“I think about you too much.”

You closed your eyes. Your chest ached from how real it all felt.

You:

“I think about you too.”

A quiet, shaky breath from his mic.

König:

“You make me slow. Careful. Soft. I can’t afford to be soft.”

You:

“Maybe you can.”

He let that hang in the air for a while. Then:

König:

“Come to Austria.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

You:

“What?!”

König:

“Not now. Not yet. But one day.”

You (smiling faintly):

“You sure you’re ready for my chaotic energy in real life?”

König (warmly):

“I’ve fought wars. I can survive you.”

A laugh finally slipped from your lips.

König (low, softer now):

“I just… I needed to hear your voice.”

You held your mug of cold tea and let the warmth in your chest fill in the rest.

You:

“Play a match with me?”

König:

“Even if I lose on purpose to impress you?”

You:

“Especially if you do.”

⸻

VC — Late Night

Your voice was soft through the headset, almost whispering now. You’d both been gaming for hours, long after your teammates logged off, until it was just the two of you — König, still wearing his mask, slouched on his bed at base, and you, curled under a blanket in your room with only the monitor lighting your face.

He had gone quiet for a while. Just the sounds of you sipping tea and the game lobby music.

You glanced over at his username.

Still connected.

Still breathing.

“Hey,” you said softly. “You good?”

A pause. A long one.

Then, finally, König’s voice came through. Rougher than usual. Tired. Small.

“Ja… just thinking.”

You waited. Didn’t push. You’d learned to be gentle with his silences.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Do you know how long it’s been since someone touched me?”

Your heart stuttered.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He filled the space instead.

“I don’t mean like… sex or whatever,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “I mean like—hug. A hand on the shoulder. Even a pat on the back. I don’t think anyone’s hugged me in… over two years.”

That hit you like a punch to the chest.

You sat up straighter. “Konig…”

“It’s fine,” he said too quickly, like he regretted saying it. “Sorry. Forget it. I don’t want to be weird.”

“No. No, hey.” Your voice softened. “That’s not weird. That’s… awful.”

“I think I forgot what it feels like,” he said quietly. “Warmth. Pressure. Another heartbeat. Everything I touch is tactical. Weapon. Trigger. Door. Steel.”

You bit your lip, feeling something sharp and tender bloom behind your ribs.

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your voice light but honest, “if we ever meet, I’m hugging you so long you’ll beg me to let go.”

Silence.

Then:

“…Really?”

“Really.”

A beat.

“I’d hold you for hours,” he said, voice raw, chest deep. “And I’d never ask you to let go.”

⸻

The Next Day – Discord Messages

König is Online.

He’s quiet today, but present. You’re in another Discord voice chat, casually chatting with a couple people you game with now and then. One of them, a guy from another server, keeps jokingly flirting with you during the match.

You laugh him off — as usual — but König’s gone dead silent.

After the match, you check your DMs.

König [Typing…]

Then he sends:

König:

That guy from the match. He does that often?

You blink.

You:

Who, Levi? He’s just messing around. He flirts with everyone, lol.

König:

Still.

Didn’t like it.

You:

Oh? You jealous, big guy?

The typing bubble appears.

Then disappears.

Then reappears.

König:

Do you want me to take care of it?

Your brows lifted.

You:

Wait—what??

König:

Not like that.

Just… let him know to back off.

You:

König… you’re being protective.

König:

Maybe I am.

Is that bad?

You felt your chest tighten. He wasn’t teasing. He meant it. You could practically see his furrowed brows through the screen, his knuckles tight where they rested near his mouse, his jaw clenched behind that mask.

You typed slower this time.

You:

No.

I like it.

But only if you’re protective of me… and not just anyone else.

A pause.

Then:

König:

Only you.

⸻

Three Weeks Without König

The Discord call had gone silent three weeks ago.

He left one last message.

König:

Mission time. I’ll be back soon, ja?

Stay safe, meine Süße.

And then nothing.

He’d told you once, offhandedly during a sleepy 2 a.m. VC, that missions could stretch long. That there were places he couldn’t bring his phone. That when he was deployed, he shut the world out to survive.

You tried to wait patiently.

You really did.

But three weeks felt like a lifetime when the one person who made you feel seen—safe—was just gone.

You found yourself staring at your phone. Re-reading old messages. That awkward selfie he sent once from the gym—his shirt clinging to his body, face cropped out, only his sweaty jawline and chest visible. You remembered teasing him for it, and how he stammered so much in the VC afterward he accidentally muted himself.

Your chest ached.

And that ache turned into something restless. Something reckless.

So, you did the only thing your heart screamed at you to do.

You booked a flight.

⸻

Austria – König’s Apartment

The city was colder than you expected. Brisk wind, gray skies, but beautiful—stone buildings with old wooden shutters and narrow streets that echoed when you wheeled your small suitcase down them.

You had the address. You’d sent him that limited-edition energy drink once, the one you both joked was probably radioactive. He never forgot it. Called you “his supplier” like it was a spy mission.

He once joked about hiding his key under the mat.

“Classic, I know,” he’d laughed over voice. “But no one ever checks, eh?”

Except you did.

And there it was.

A plain silver key under a faded old mat that read “Möge das WLAN stark sein” (“May the Wi-Fi be strong”).

You stepped inside.

His apartment was quiet. Still. Like him.

Big, but sparse. Clean. A little too clean. Just essentials.

Military-precise.

His mask hung on a hook by the door. His boots, muddy and massive, rested nearby. You walked around slowly, taking it all in — the way his couch had an indent shaped exactly like his body, the small pile of books in German and English, the little Post-It note stuck to his fridge with a scribbled reminder in his messy handwriting:

Call her when you’re back.

Your heart clenched.

You dragged your suitcase into his room.

Then curled up on his bed to wait.

⸻

Hours Later – The Front Door Opens

You heard the jingle of keys.

Then heavy boots. A grunt. A sigh.

The soft clink of his gear being dropped by the door.

Your heart pounded in your ears. You pressed your hand to your chest to steady it.

You heard his footsteps come down the hall.

He paused outside his bedroom door.

A beat.

Then—

Click.

The door opened.

You leapt.

He barely had time to react.

���Was zur—?!”

You threw yourself at him, arms around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist as you tackled him back a step. He staggered under your weight—though not much—and instinctively caught you, huge hands gripping your thighs.

“Hallo?!” he barked. “Who—?!”

Then he saw your face.

“…Schatz?”

You grinned. “Surprise, soldier.”

König just… stared.

You saw his expression shift through five stages of confusion before settling on stunned disbelief. His blue eyes wide under messy hair, fresh stubble shadowing his jaw, lips parted slightly.

“You—bist du verrückt?!” he whispered hoarsely. “You flew to Austria?!”

You nodded, still holding him tightly. “Yep.”

“And broke into my home?!”

“Technically, I used the key you hid under the mat.”

König blinked, mouth open.

Then he dropped his bag.

And crushed you into his chest.

He didn’t speak for a moment. Just held you. Arms like steel. Like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

You could feel his heart pounding against yours.

“…I thought I was dreaming,” he finally muttered. “This feels like a dream.”

You leaned back to look into his face, your hands cupping his jaw. “It’s real, König.”

He just stared at you like he couldn’t believe it. Then, softly:

“…I missed you.”

⸻

You were curled up on the couch, his oversized hoodie swallowing your small frame. König sat beside you, unusually quiet, rubbing the back of his neck while avoiding your eyes. The air between you felt heavy — but not uncomfortable. More like… electric.

“So,” you said softly, nudging him with your foot, “how does it feel having me here, crashing your place like a wrecking ball?”

His gaze finally flicked to you, and you caught the faintest blush coloring his cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying to act casual but failing spectacularly.

“I—I wasn’t prepared for this.” His voice cracked just a little. “You… surprised me.”

You smiled, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes widened for a moment at the gentle touch.

“Yeah? You look like you’re about to combust.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, eyes darting down to your hand then back up. “Maybe I am. You—uh—you’re not just crashing the place. You’re… you’re crashing my defenses.”

You laughed softly, heart fluttering.

“Are you saying I’m making you shy?”

König’s lips twitched into a small, embarrassed smile. “Maybe.”

You scooted closer, your knee brushing his thigh. “Good. You’re adorable when you’re like this.”

He swallowed hard, face still pink. “Adorable? I’m a soldier.”

“And yet here you are, blushing like a schoolboy.” You winked.

His eyes flicked to the floor, voice low. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Only to you,” you teased.

He let out a short, breathy laugh, still shy but somehow more relaxed now. You both sat like that for a while, the quiet between you filled with something warm — a new kind of closeness neither of you had quite dared to explore before.

You stayed close to König, the warmth from his body still lingering after your surprise hug. The quiet between you felt charged, the kind of silence that buzzes softly with things left unsaid.

You swallowed nervously, then looked up at him with a small smile.

“Hey, König…” you began, your voice softer than usual. “Can I… share your bed tonight?”

He blinked, eyes flickering away for a moment, cheeks tinting just the faintest shade of red beneath his mask.

“Äh… I—uh… sure,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck like a shy teenager caught off guard. “If you want.”

His voice was low, hesitant, almost shy—so unlike the confident soldier you knew. You found it endearing.

You reached out, lightly brushing a hand over his massive forearm. “Thanks,” you whispered.

He gave you a small, shy smile that made your heart skip.

⸻

“Let’s go then. What are you waiting for?” you said with a teasing smile.

König stood up, a bit stiff and awkward, clearly shy but trying to keep his composure. His tall frame moved quietly behind you as you led the way to his bedroom.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, you began changing out of your clothes without a word. König’s eyes widened immediately, and he quickly turned his gaze away, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. You caught the shy flush and chuckled softly, amused by his obvious embarrassment.

You slipped into something comfortable—soft pajamas that contrasted with his military precision—and then crawled onto the bed, pulling the blankets up around you. König didn’t say much but carefully started changing too. He peeled off his shirt, revealing the hard, defined muscles beneath. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, the fabric stretched tight over powerful thighs.

You couldn’t help but glance at him. Your breath hitched at the sight—his broad chest, carved pecs shadowed by faint scars; the washboard abs you’d only seen in pictures, now right in front of you; thick, veined biceps and triceps that spoke of strength and endless discipline. His skin had that rugged, worn look from years in the field, but there was softness in his shy eyes that completely contradicted his tough exterior.

Caught staring, König’s gaze flicked to you, eyes wide and vulnerable. Without thinking, your fingers traced lightly over the ridges of his abs. The moment your skin touched his, he gasped softly, a sharp intake of breath that sent a thrill straight through you.

He remained unusually silent, cheeks flushed a deep pink, and you could tell your touch caught him off guard. Encouraged, you continued to explore slowly, letting your hand drift lower, tracing the line where his sweatpants met his hips.

A soft, unexpected moan slipped from his mouth, making both of you freeze instantly. König’s blue eyes locked onto yours, wide and unguarded.

You smirked gently, your voice teasing but warm. “Looks like someone’s a little more sensitive than he lets on.”

König swallowed hard, clearly flustered, but there was a spark in his eyes—something tender, something hungry—and you both knew this was just the beginning.

Your hand lingered on his hip, tracing delicate circles as König’s breath hitched again. You felt the heat radiating from his skin, his body tense beneath your touch. His usual calm, controlled demeanor was slipping away, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

Then, you noticed it—the unmistakable bulge pressing against his sweatpants. Your eyes widened slightly, and you bit your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

König’s cheeks deepened into a rich crimson, and he quickly shifted his hips away, as if trying to hide what was obvious to both of you now.

“Uh—” he stammered, voice thick, eyes darting anywhere but yours. “This is… unexpected.”

You chuckled softly, the teasing warmth in your tone impossible to hide. “Sensitive, huh? Didn’t think the mighty König would be this easy to rattle.”

He swallowed hard, jaw working as he fought the flush spreading down his neck. “You’re… dangerous.”

You reached out again, fingers brushing over the top of his abs, tracing down to his hip, your touch slow and deliberate. “I could say the same about you.”

The tension between you thickened—the room shrinking until it was just the two of you, breaths mingling, hearts pounding in sync.

König’s lips parted, eyes searching yours, vulnerability flickering with something else—desire.

You smiled softly, leaning in just a fraction closer, letting your hand rest lightly on his thigh, the promise of more hanging in the air between you.

Your fingers hesitated just a moment before drifting lower, brushing along the edge of the bulge pressing against his sweatpants. König’s breath hitched sharply, eyes wide but unable to pull away.

You smiled softly, the thrill of his reaction sending a warmth straight to your core. Slowly, carefully, you began to rub the length of his hardness through the fabric—light, teasing circles that made him shift under your touch.

A low, involuntary groan escaped his lips, and you felt the vibration beneath your palm.

He was so tense, so sensitive—like every nerve ending was awake and aching.

König’s eyes flickered between yours, filled with a mixture of surprise and raw want. His usual composed mask was gone, replaced by a shy vulnerability that made your heart pound harder.

“D-Don’t stop,” he murmured, voice rough and breathless.

You chuckled, your touch lingering as you rubbed more boldly now, feeling him grow even harder beneath your palm.

His hips shifted closer, seeking more contact, but you held back just enough to keep him on edge.

The room felt electric—charged with anticipation, with unspoken promises, with the weight of everything you both wanted but hadn’t yet dared to say.

Your fingers traced slow circles, and König’s breath came faster, his muscles tensing and relaxing with each stroke.

“Sensitive,” you teased again, voice low and sultry. “You’re so damn sensitive.”

He groaned softly, the sound vibrating through your skin.

You both froze for a heartbeat—his reaction undeniable, your own desire flaring in response.

König’s breath hitched again, his hips shifting instinctively toward your hand, desperate for more contact. You let your fingers glide slowly, teasing him with just enough touch to make his pulse race without fully satisfying him.

His eyes darkened with need, flickering between wanting and holding back—just like you.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing lightly against the shell of his ear. Your breath was warm, your voice low and husky.

“Do you want more, König?”

He swallowed hard, a soft groan escaping before he nodded almost imperceptibly.

Slowly, deliberately, you pulled your hand away—just enough to build the tension even higher. Your fingers trailed down his chest, feeling every ridge of muscle under your palm.

Then your gaze locked with his.

“Come here.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

König crawled toward you on the bed, each movement careful, almost shy—like he wasn’t used to letting someone see this side of him.

Your hands found his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the rough stubble that made you want to kiss every inch.

He leaned into your touch, eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment.

Then, slowly, your lips met—soft at first, exploring, tasting.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and the heat between you exploded.

His kisses deepened, urgent and hungry now, his body pressing into yours.

Every nerve ending was alive, every inch of skin craving connection.

König’s hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. His breath was ragged, warm against your skin as his lips traced a slow path down your neck. You felt the fire ignite beneath his touch—soft, deliberate, full of promise.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access, feeling the heat pool low in your belly. His fingers trailed lightly down your sides, exploring curves he’d only ever seen from afar. Every touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine.

He paused, eyes searching yours, asking without words if this was okay. You nodded, heart pounding with anticipation.

Slowly, he eased his hands under your tank top, skin meeting skin. His touch was gentle but hungry, memorizing every inch, every delicate curve. You gasped softly as he traced the swell of your breasts, fingers light but knowing.

König’s lips found yours again, this time more demanding, more urgent. You melted into the kiss, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel him even more.

Every sensation heightened—the rough scrape of his stubble, the warmth of his breath, the press of his body against yours. Time slowed down, the world shrinking until it was only the two of you tangled together, exploring, learning, savoring.

His hands roamed lower, sliding beneath your sweatpants, fingers teasing, coaxing.

There was a tenderness beneath the urgency, a careful worship of each other’s bodies that made everything feel sacred.

⸻

König’s fingers drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, his touch light but deliberate. You caught the slight smirk playing on his lips—the kind of confident, knowing smile that sent a thrill straight through your core.

He pressed gently, just enough to make you shiver. The warmth beneath his hand was undeniable, his arousal growing despite the barrier of fabric. His breath hitched slightly, betraying how much he wanted you even now.

You couldn’t help it—a soft, unexpected moan escaped you. The sound was new, raw, and it seemed to surprise both of you.

König froze for a moment, eyes wide as if realizing for the first time just how much your reaction affected him. Then his smirk deepened, amused and captivated all at once.

“So… that’s your sound,” he murmured low and husky, his fingers never stopping their teasing dance. “I like it.”

Your cheeks flushed hotter, heart pounding wildly, but the heat pooling between your legs only grew stronger. The quiet room filled with your mingled breaths, the tension thick and delicious.

He leaned closer, voice a breath against your skin. He teased you just how you did earlier, “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you?”

⸻

König’s teasing fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements, his touch light but purposeful beneath the fabric. Suddenly, he paused, a subtle change in his expression—his eyes flickered down, sharp and curious.

His fingertips pressed a little more firmly, and then he stiffened.

��Hmm…” he murmured, voice low and thick with surprise. “You’re… wet.”

The word hung in the air, charged with meaning.

Your breath hitched at his touch, the warmth between you already burning, and now his knowing had set your skin alight. You felt exposed, vulnerable in the best way, caught under his gaze as he traced the slickness through the thin sweatpants.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “I can feel how much you want me.”

You shivered, heart pounding hard. König’s fingers didn’t stop; if anything, they moved more boldly, stroking you through the fabric, making your breath catch again and again.

“Does that feel good?” he teased, his voice rough and playful.

You could only nod, lost in the heat of the moment, your moans growing softer but more urgent.

König’s blue eyes locked with yours, shining with something darker, hungrier, as the quiet room pulsed with the promise of what was to come.

Without breaking eye contact, König’s hand slid lower, fingers tracing the waistband of your sweatpants. Then, with a swift, confident motion, he shoved the fabric aside, exposing your wet skin to his touch.

His fingers pressed gently at first, then more boldly, moving with slow precision that sent shivers racing through your body. You gasped softly, clutching his arm as he explored you, every touch igniting sparks beneath your skin.

König’s breath was warm against your neck as he whispered, “So soft. So perfect.”

He teased you expertly, his fingers stroking and circling, eliciting soft moans and trembling gasps. The heat between you thickened, the room growing smaller until it felt like it existed only for this moment—just you and him, tangled together.

His other hand found your jaw, tilting your face up as his lips brushed yours, slow and teasing, the promise of more burning in his eyes.

König’s fingers moved with growing confidence, the pad of one finger tracing over your wetness, teasing you lightly. Then, with a deliberate, slow motion, he pressed one finger inside you.

You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as the new sensation overwhelmed your senses. His touch was careful but sure, moving just enough to make you shiver.

He watched your reactions closely, his blue eyes darkening with desire and concern all at once. “Sag mir, wenn es zu viel ist,” he murmured softly. (“Tell me if it’s too much.”)

You shook your head, unable to speak, too caught up in the way he made you feel — delicate, wanted, and achingly alive.

His finger moved gently, coaxing, teasing, and you felt the heat in your body deepen, every nerve ending alert.

König’s finger moved slowly, carefully exploring, his touch light but deliberate. You bit your lip to hold back a soft moan as the sensation rolled through you, every nerve waking up with delicious heat.

His breathing hitched just a little, his blue eyes locked on your face, reading every flicker of pleasure and hesitation. “Du bist so schön,” he whispered low, the German rough and tender in the same breath. (“You’re so beautiful.”)

You reached out instinctively, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him a bit closer. His other hand found your hip, steadying you as his finger deepened just slightly, coaxing more of that breathless feeling.

Your heart hammered, and your voice was barely a whisper, “König…”

He paused, looking up, searching your eyes. “Ja?”

“I want more,” you said, voice trembling.

He smiled softly, that shy, strong man torn between wanting to go slow and the raw pull of desire.

His finger moved with careful, teasing precision, making you shiver beneath his touch. The warmth spreading through you was dizzying, every nerve ending alive with sensation. You tangled your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling him closer as your breath hitched again.

König’s other hand slid from your hip to cup your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek as he watched your reactions with intense, almost reverent focus.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with something between admiration and desire.

You whimpered softly, desperate for more but knowing this slow dance was building something electric — a tension that promised fire.

His finger pressed just a little deeper, circling slowly, sending sparks of pleasure rolling through you like gentle waves. You arched into him, your hips moving slightly, craving more contact.

König’s eyes darkened, lips parting as he swallowed hard. His hand on your face tightened just a touch, anchoring you as if afraid you might float away in the storm of feeling he was stirring inside you.

“Please,” you breathed, voice trembling with want.

He hesitated for only a moment longer, then leaned down to brush his lips softly over yours — a promise of more, of everything waiting just beneath the surface.

You tug gently at the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers curling into the soft fabric, sending a clear, silent message. König’s breath hitched, his eyes flickering to yours with a mix of surprise and something deeper—desire, hesitation, excitement all swirling at once.

Slowly, almost reverently, he slides his hands down to the waistband, gripping the fabric. You hold your breath, heart pounding as he peels the sweatpants down just enough, revealing the hard length you’d been imagining, now fully visible and more real than you’d dared hope.

His cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, but his eyes don’t leave yours, as if searching for permission—or maybe daring you to take the lead.

You reach out again, fingertips tracing the hard line, feeling the heat radiate against your skin, your own breath catching in your throat. The room is thick with tension and unspoken promises as you lean in closer, every inch of you craving more-

König jolted awake, chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his skin.

His eyes were wide, confused—disoriented.

It was still dark outside.

For a second, he blinked at the ceiling, heart pounding, trying to remember where he was.

A dream. It was just a dream.

A very… detailed dream.

He groaned and slammed his big hand down to the side of the bed in frustration—

SMACK.

You yelped.

He froze.

“…Was that—?”

You stirred, voice thick with sleep, “König… did you just slap my ass?”

König’s entire soul left his body.

“I—I didn’t mean—I thought you weren’t there—I mean, I thought the bed was empty—”

You rolled over slowly, raising an eyebrow in the dim light. “So, what, you randomly smack the mattress when I’m not here?”

“…No?”

You burst out laughing, burying your face in the pillow. “Unbelievable.”

König groaned and flopped back against the bed, mortified. “Please just let me die now.”

You patted his chest, still giggling. “Next time just ask nicely.”

He groaned louder.

[sillygoobermanlol]

Imposter

Silly short fic I wrote

You are dead lol sorry

Simon has retired, thought he could ignore the mental effects of what his former job brought onto him.

Simon Riley sat with his hands cuffed to a table, on his wrist they were too tight. Straining his blood flow, nobody had fixed it, not since the officers came, when they saw you on the floor in a pool of your own blood, blood that was still stuck under his nails, still staining the lines of his hands. Part of him still didn’t believe it was real, grey eyes dazed as he stared at the metal table blankly, no mask, only flesh. Not a monster, but a very bad man. Somehow that was worse. The glint of the bright light overhead overbearing. His leg bounced and he couldn’t unclench his fists. The sound of sirens was still blaring in his head, and he couldn’t think. Though he was acutely aware of the man in the corner, watching him with a gun, ready to fire if he so much as moved an inch. Simon Riley was no small man, it was only reasonable, and with what he had done even more. But part of him itched to fight, only instinct with such a weapon pointed at him while he had nothing. After years of keeping one in his grip so tightly, how could he have let himself get soft? How dare he try? How dare he promise you that he could be. 

A tear rolled down his cheek, and fell into his palm, taking some of your blood with it as it rolled down, he hadn’t realized he was crying. 

He hadn’t noticed either the sound of voices that grew louder. But when he did, they were already so close.

“Simon Riley. Ex soldier, murdered his partner.” Said one, 

“Jesus,” said another under their breath, a woman. He didn’t look up when the door was pushed open. There was only silence for a moment, before the sound of a chair dragging across the floor, she sat down sitting the clipboard she held on the table before clasping her fingers together on top of it. “Simon,” she said, and it was so sickeningly soft. It reminded him of his mother almost, soft, yet didn’t do anything to stop the chaos around him. It wasn’t protection, but pity. “I know this is hard, but I need to know what happened tonight.”

Of course, they knew what had happened, somewhere the details were written on paper, that described the state of your body and what killed you. This was for him, to put him behind bars. He knew that he deserved that. But he didn’t know if he could take picturing your face right now. It settled in. You were dead, oh god, you were dead. 

“Simon?” she said again, dipping her head to see his face. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

All he could see was the blurry outlines of his hand, tears were still falling unwilfully. But he couldn’t feel anything. Gods, why couldn’t he feel anything? The woman only sighed, “My name is Detective Porter, I’m not here to hurt you, or accuse you of anything. I just want the truth. Can you give me that at least?” 

When he didn’t say anything, she kept going, “I was told you were ex SAS, is that true?” 

Silence. 

“You retired a year ago, worked with the T141. Under John Price, with the callsign: Ghost.” 

His eyes shot up, peering at her. He was shaking. Of course, they knew all of that, they knew everything about him. Ghost was a manufactured weapon, a successful one. He was milked for everything he had and when let go didn’t know how to be human. He didn’t know how to be gentle for you, yet you still stayed. And now you were dead. He always thought that maybe it would have been the demons that followed him off the battlefield, hungry for revenge. Wanting to take away the only happiness he ever had. Like they did to his family, scared that one day he would come home and find that they had put a hole in you, leaving him to grieve yet again. He thought he was clever, thought that if he kept you close, he could stop it, but he didn’t think to save you from himself. 

The woman nodded, pleased that at least she had ignited some reaction in him. “Let’s talk more about that then, yeah?” 

“No.” he finally spoke, gravelly and deep in his throat. 

“Then we have to talk about what happened tonight.” 

He went still again. 

The woman sighed, taking apart her clasped hands and taking up the clipboard. Reading over the text before speaking, she said your name first, the wound was still so fresh that he didn’t think of you gone, but the way she spoke of you in past tense made him sick, “Your significant other, correct? They were found dead inside of your shared apartment. You were the only one inside, you were also the one to notify the authorities.” 

Simon dug his nails into his palm, where your blood still stained red. Get it off, please get it off. The realization of what he had done was still fresh in his mind, when you stopped moving, when he touched you and you were real, when just a second ago he was convinced, you were not. That you were here to hurt him. A threat, another enemy. 

“Simon, I want you to understand that-”

He slammed a fist on the metal table, she flinched, the man in the corner tightened his grip on the gun, she let out a shaky breath, holding a hand up to stop the man from proceeding further. 

“Stop, saying my fuckin’ name like that.” He snarled. 

“Okay, okay. I won’t,” She breathed out, “What would you prefer? Ghost?” 

“No.” he said, and his voice shook slightly, he didn’t know. He did not want to be Ghost nor Simon right now. 

“This is serious, I want to make sure you understand that all I want to do right now is understand.”

He was still shaking, the cuffs rattled on his wrists like chains. “No…No, you jus’ wanna…you..” he rambled, voice shaking, his entire chest shuddering. 

“I want to help, I want to know why they were found in your apartment with their neck broken.” 

Simon whimpered, shaking his head. “Don’t…Don’t do that, don’t you fuckin’ do that.”

“Do what? Tell you what happened? That’s what we found, Simon.” 

He shook his head again, shaking violently, he knew these interrogation techniques, hell, he’s used them himself. But he was breaking, because this wasn’t war, this was you. 

“I didn’t mean to- please, I didn’t-” he choked on his own words, “I thought- I didn’t know it was them I didn’t know..” 

“You didn’t know?” She leaned forward a bit, like she had a fish caught on her hook now, all she had to do was reel it in, “Can you tell me what you thought, then?” 

“I…I…I didn’t…I thought-” he sputtered, everything felt so real now, the fuzzy haze in his mind was gone, no longer there to protect him from reality. Is this why it had been so easy to kill before? With a mask and convinced he did not have to be human. Like a machine, with just a job to do. But your blood was on his goddamn hands. Your body was somewhere getting cold, and he had done it. 

Porter tilted her head down to write on the clipboard before looking up at him again, “Did you kill them, Simon?” 

“I didn’t mean to.” He said, and it was so broken. So gone. He did not register your cries, your begs, when he put his hands around your neck because something in his brain was telling him that you were not real, only posing as someone he loved. He squeezed you until you stopped moving, you clawed at his arms, at his face and now he could feel them burning. Like all of his kills they had left a mark, physically or mentally. You had left both. 

[bitchinbarzal]

yes Timo part 2 because I can’t have my heart breaking over sad angsty Timo fics

Timo kissed her to hurt you.

Simple as that.

He didn’t even like her. Barely knew her name. Just picked the prettiest distraction in the room and let instinct take over.

Because he saw you,

Saw your hand tighten around your glass.

Saw the way your eyes locked on his mouth when it touched someone else’s skin.

Saw the regret hit your spine like a sucker punch.

And he thought, Good.

You left him like he didn’t matter.

Walked out like it cost you nothing.

Like he wasn’t the one who stayed up at night learning how to love you soft and careful. Like he wasn’t the one who would’ve done anything, everything, to keep you.

So yeah, he kissed her.

And he smiled when you looked away.

And he walked her out like you never existed.

But once the car door shut and she was gone, he just sat there.

Behind the wheel of his truck.

Ten full minutes. Motionless. Breathless. Jaw clenched so tight it ached.

The high of revenge faded faster than the buzz.

He didn’t go home with her.

He didn’t go home with anyone.

Hasn’t since the night you left.

The texts came the next morning—friends checking in, teammates teasing him about the public kiss, your reaction, your walkout.

He didn’t reply.

Because no one knows the truth.

That he still checks your socials.

Still sleeps on your side of the bed.

Still waits for your name to show up at 2AM like it used to when you’d had one too many and missed him but couldn’t say it sober.

The kiss was just performance.

The pain? That’s real.

But the worst part?

He’s not the only one bleeding anymore.

Because tonight, it’s you at that bar again.

Same spot. Different stakes.

And this time you’re the one getting attention.

He sees it instantly.

You in that short black dress he never forgot.

Head thrown back laughing at something someone said.

And standing beside you grinning, relaxed, hand on your lower back is Jake.

Rookie.

Bright smile.

No clue who you are.

But Timo does.

And watching Jake lean in like you’re some girl he just met and not the person who broke Timo’s heart with a single slammed door?

It splits him wide open.

You don’t see him yet.

But he sees everything.

The way Jake buys your drink.

The way you let him touch you.

The way you smile even though your eyes keep flicking toward the door—toward him.

You knew he’d show up.

And now that he has, He’s going to remind you exactly who you belong to.

Timo finishes his drink in one pull and starts moving. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t blink. Just walks straight through the crowd, fury simmering just beneath the surface.

You spot him before he reaches you.

Your smile drops.

“Timo,” you say, voice low and sharp like you’re trying to stop something you already know is too far gone.

Jake turns. “Yo, Meier! Didn’t know you were coming out. You met—?”

“She’s mine.”

The words land like a body check.

Jake freezes. “Wait—what?”

Timo’s eyes don’t leave yours. “She’s. Mine.”

You fold your arms. “You don’t get to say that. Not anymore.”

“I never stopped feeling it,” he says, stepping closer. “You wanna pretend? Fine. But don’t act like you don’t feel it too.”

Jake backs away slowly. “I—uh—sorry. I didn’t know.”

He vanishes into the crowd, but you barely notice.

Because now, it’s just Timo.

And you.

He’s closer now. Closer than he’s been in months.

“You kissed her in front of me,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Just to hurt me.”

“And it worked,” he says, eyes burning. “But it didn’t fix a goddamn thing.”

Your throat tightens. “So what do you want now, Timo? Another scene?”

“No,” he breathes. “I want you. All of you. The messy parts. The loud fights. The stupid inside jokes. I want the girl who used to fall asleep in my hoodie. The girl who hated me just enough to love me harder.”

You blink against the tears threatening to fall. “Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because I didn’t think I deserved you.”

He says it like a confession. Like it’s killing him to admit it.

“I waited,” you whisper. “I kept waiting for you.”

“I’ve been waiting every night for you to walk through my door and scream at me,” he says. “Anything. Just give me something to hold on to.”

You stare at him, every nerve ending burning. “I never stopped loving you.”

His voice breaks. “Then kiss me.”

So you do.

Hard. Hungry. Like you’re punishing him and healing yourself all at once.

And he kisses you like he never plans to stop again.

The same bar that saw your end now watches your beginning.

And when he pulls you against his chest, breath ragged and hands shaking, he murmurs

“You were always mine.”

[fangirlerastour]

In my head, Peeta teaches Effie to paint and then whenever Haymitch is out she starts to paint little stars or flowers or sunsets or whatever around the house in hidden corners, on cupboard doors, under the table etc and doesn’t tell Haymitch to see how long it takes him to notice. What she doesn’t know is Haymitch spots them after like the second painting but doesn’t tell her because he doesn’t want her to stop doing them

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[fazcinatingblog]

My actual conversation: so my Nana picked Collingwood when she was a kid, I'm not sure why, I mean Sophia picked Collingwood because she was born in Collingwood and I think grew up that way and then she stayed with Collingwood her whole life even though her brother always switched teams---- wait oh no why am I talking about Sophia's life, this is meant to be about my Nana and

[sab0dssey]

I LOOOVVVEEE BIG BABY GHOST. ۫ ꣑ৎ . Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader

Husband!Simon who is a totally a big baby with you. He’ll come after from mission or work, the thing he done first is throwing you to bed and cuddling you. His head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your legs. If you stop caressing his back and hair while he was tryna sleep, he’ll groan and bit your arm.—Don’t worry biting is his love language— When he fell asleep he hear nothing. Is TV volume on full? He won’t hear it.—Because of his snores—

Husband!Simon who never take off his ring. —Except dangerous missions.— His ring is a symbol of his love for his wifey.

Husband!Simon never touch, never talk or never even makes an eye contact with any women. He has his own woman so he don’t need any other woman. He is very devoted and devoted to his wife. He has eyes for no one but her. It is as if a spell has been cast on him, and no one except his own girl interests him. What a man…

Husband!Simon who enjoys walking around the house shirtless. He knows you enjoyed his muscular body. Especially his back and biceps…He teases you with doing that. Enjoys your hands roaming around his muscular top.

Husband!Simon loves to tattoo small things about you. The tattoos of things reminding him you. He’s not always at home, so he wants to remind himself about you you. He already has your photo on his wallet, but he thinks it’s not enough. This man is so in love.

Husband!Simon if you stole his wallet and went shopping without telling him. Damn, he never complains. He LOVES you spending his money. Because after all he loves to spoil you. —If you won’t spend his money, don’t worry, he’ll buy expensive things for you— He actually turns on when you came with shopping bags, and that bratty attitude of yours…

Husband!Simon knows his teammates. And he knows how asshole are them. So he always hides you from them. They know Simon is married—They learned that he’s married, after 2 years later of his wedding, don’t mention that..— But his teammates never saw her face, or never knows her name. Because Simon mentions you, if that’s necessary, saying My wife.

Husband!Simon his ego is high. He always wants to win arguments. It just…his nature, y’know. He feels good when he wins an argument. It's like being right, satisfies his ego. Even when he's in a situation where he can't be right about something, he finds a way to be right. It's always been like this.

“Don’t I said don’t go somewhere without telling me?! Do you have ANY idea how I felt when I couldn’t saw you at home, when you already said you’ll be waiting me at home?!” He yelled. His ears turned red from anger—mostly from panic— His hands turned to fists. The veins in his forehead, arms and hands would’ve be seen from meters away.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down. His head snapped towards your when he heard a soft, quiet, “‘M sorry…” from you. Head bowed down, fidgeting her fingers.

That’s it. That’s all he needed. That’s allll his anger needed to hear, to ease. He melted like a butter on sun. He exhaled all breath from his body. And then pulled her to his chest, wrapped his arms around her fragile body. Holding her head on his chest tightly. He regretted everything in that moment. He regretted for yelling her. He regretted for being angry to her.

“‘s alright, darling…” he breathed into her vanilla scented hair. He was short tempered man. But not to her. He would yell anybody who pissed him off. He would yell until his throat aches. But when he saw his girl’s tearfilled, puppy eyes he would melt immediately. He would have forget even his own name, let alone his anger…

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

Definitely not my type of girl. 

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately. 

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?” 

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.” 

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

[stylesispunk]

"I don't want to look at anything else but you"

post outbreak! Joel miller x f!reader

summary: You and Joel had found peace in the quiet life you had built together in Jackson. Despite him hurting from the growing distance between him and Ellie, he knows he has you and you have his back.

wc: 6,4k >

warnings: a bit of angst for joel but is mostly fluff. Age gap but not specified. Remember English is not my first language and i'm lazy when it comes to checking.

a/n: okay. I didn't write a lot of blind faith during this week and I'm giving you this other joel fic as a sorry and because i'm already grieving Joel. I hope you like it 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Ever since you and Joel had settled into a normal life in Jackson. The dynamic between the two of you changed. The cold mornings spent outdoors turned into mornings wrapped in sheets. The two of you, your head on his chest and his arms around your waist. The closest thing to normalcy Joel had experienced since the world had ended that September, years ago.

It wasn’t the easiest path, not for him, not for you. Years ago, when everything was ash and violence, the QZ had been nothing more than a temporary shelter with concrete walls and a rot at its core. But somehow, even in that godforsaken place, you had found Joel. Or maybe he had found you. Either way, you clung to each other like driftwood in a storm.

He was older, weathered by loss, hard edges and thick walls that didn’t crumble easily. And you—well, you were younger, yes, but you’d seen enough to understand him without needing him to say a word. That’s what got him first. The way you looked at him—not with pity, not like someone trying to fix him—but like you saw straight through him and chose to stay anyway.

You were a constant when the world refused to be. He never told you just how much that meant, how many nights he laid awake beside you in the QZ, eyes tracing the ceiling, wondering what he had done to deserve someone like you. Maybe he didn’t deserve it. But you stayed. Even when the Fireflies whispered about change. Even when the world outside called to you both with the promise of something more.

And then came Ellie. The girl who turned everything upside down. The moment Joel took her in, you followed without hesitation. You were the only one who never questioned him—not when he made the choice that changed everything. You held his secret like your own, wore the burden of it in silence. And when the truth finally tore open the fragile thread between Joel and Ellie, you were the one caught in the middle. Not because you chose to be—but because you loved them both.

Ellie had barely spoken to Joel in months now, but you still caught her glancing toward your porch sometimes, like she missed him but couldn’t quite forgive. You didn’t push. You gave her space, the same way you gave Joel comfort. Even when he didn’t say it, you could feel the guilt radiating off him in waves—quiet, heavy, and relentless.

But he still came home to you. Always. His hands shaking slightly when he poured whiskey into a glass at night, the ghosts of the past flickering behind his tired eyes. And you would press your fingers to the side of his face and whisper that he was not the man he used to be. That maybe, finally, after all this time, he deserved peace.

He didn’t say much in response. Joel wasn’t one for poetry or declarations. But his love was in the way he kissed your forehead in the mornings before you even opened your eyes. It was in the way he made sure the firewood was stacked high so you’d never get cold. It was in every silent glance across a crowded dining hall, in every soft murmur against your temple when the nightmares woke him.

Joel had built a warm home for you. A place where the both of you would end up dying after cherishing all the loved you shared for each other. After a fulfilled life, a happy life.

He became a fundamental part of Jackson, a community that grew every year thanks to his efforts and help. A community where he had become loved, and not just by you. While Joel reviewed maps and extensions that could continue to be built, you were part of the group patrolling the outskirts of Jackson.

And when you rode out past the gates on patrol, he stood on that damn porch, arms crossed, waiting for your silhouette to disappear into the trees. He never said “be careful,” never asked you to stay. Because he knew you wouldn’t. But he always waited.

Because no matter how many years passed, no matter what came between him and the world, he knew one thing:

You were the one thing he had never wanted to live without. He would rather die before seeing life leaving your body in a lifeless frame.

Joel had built a warm home for you. A place where the both of you would end up dying after cherishing all the loved you shared for each other. After a fulfilled life, a happy life.

He became a fundamental part of Jackson, a community that grew every year thanks to his efforts and help. A community where he had become loved, and not just by you. While Joel reviewed maps and extensions that could continue to be built, you were part of the group patrolling the outskirts of Jackson.

Today was one of those freezing days of winter when snow covered all paths. You'd been riding with Rick for nearly two hours in silence, save for the sound of snow crunching under your horses’ hooves and the occasional radio crackle from the patrol team. The morning was cold, but sunlight still broke through the trees in patches, casting gold across the frostbitten forest. You were glad for the silence. Patrols were always easier when you didn’t have to think too hard.

But Rick was fidgeting.

You noticed it as you dismounted to check the broken fence line on the north perimeter. He stayed unusually close behind you, clearing his throat every few seconds like he was about to say something and then thinking better of it.

You finally turned to him with a raised brow, snowflakes sticking to your lashes.

“Spit it out, Rick. You’re twitchier than a Clicker.”

He looked at you, flushed already from the cold but turning visibly redder. “Okay, so—I wasn’t gonna say anything. Like… ever. But if I don’t, I think I’m gonna explode or something.”

You leaned on the post you were fixing and blinked. “That sounds dramatic.”

“It is. I’m being dramatic,” he admitted, letting out a nervous laugh. “Look, I know you’re with Joel. Everybody knows you’re with Joel. Joel definitely knows you’re with Joel. And he could probably kill me with, like, a stare. But… I kinda like you. I have for a while.”

You stared at him, hammer halfway raised, not sure if you’d misheard him or if he’d actually just said that. “Rick.”

“I know! I know. It’s not cool. It’s kind of stupid. But I figured maybe if I just said it out loud once, I could move on and stop acting like a dumbass every time you’re around.” He ran a hand over his face, half laughing, half mortified. “Jesus, you’re gonna tell Joel and he’s gonna bury me under the tomato garden, huh?”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. Hard. Rick blinked at you like he wasn’t sure whether he’d just been spared or sentenced.

“I’m not gonna tell Joel,”You said, still chuckling as you shook your head. “Unless I need leverage to make him do the dishes.”

Rick exhaled loudly, shoulders slumping in relief. “God, please don’t do that.”

“Hey, I might. That’s premium blackmail material,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow before getting back to work on the fence. “Look, I appreciate the honesty. I really do. It’s weird—but kinda sweet, in a ‘high school crush’ kind of way.”

He gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll take it.”

“But Rick,” you added, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, your voice gentler now, “Joel’s it for me. I love him. He is my husband, law or not law. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he said quietly. “Hell, everyone does. Just needed to clear my chest.”

“Well, chest cleared,” you said, patting him once on the shoulder. “Now let’s go back to our work or something. You’re not gonna make me do all the work just because you embarrassed yourself, are you?”

He laughed, finally relaxing. “Nah, I’ll take point. You just hang back and bask in the awkwardness.”

“Perfect,” you muttered, smirking as you mounted your horse.

As the two of you rode off, the moment settled behind you like footprints in snow. Something a little strange, a little uncomfortable—but harmless. You knew Rick wouldn’t cross any lines. He wasn’t that kind of guy. And besides, by the time the sun dipped low and Jackson came into view again, your thoughts were already back home.

To the porch where Joel would be waiting, arms crossed.

To the way his jaw would twitch the moment he saw you, trying and failing to hide the relief in his eyes. To the warmth of his hand on the small of your back when he pulled you close and muttered, “Took you long enough.”

Because no matter what happened outside those walls, you always came back to him. You always would.

The sun had dipped behind the trees by the time you and Rick made it back to Jackson. The patrol had been uneventful after the confession—thank God—and Rick had thankfully returned to his usual self, cracking a dumb joke or two to break the tension. You left him at the stables with a casual wave, brushing the snow off your coat as you handed off the reins.

As you stepped out into the chilly late afternoon, your breath puffed white in the air. The lanterns strung along Jackson's paths were starting to flicker on, casting a golden hue over the snow-covered streets. You shoved your gloved hands into your pockets and turned toward home.

And then you saw Joel walking your way, just down the path near the greenhouse, shoulders relaxed in that slow way of his, with the glasses still perched low on his nose that made you pause and smile like a fool. He rarely kept them on outside. Said they made him look “too damn old.” But there they were, catching the glow of the lanterns as he walked, reviewing something in a worn notebook like the world wasn’t even there.

He looked up as if sensing you before he even saw you.

The second his eyes found yours, his entire face shifted—like watching ice melt under a flame. His mouth tugged into a lopsided smile, soft and real and just for you. And God, it still got you. After all this time. After all the hell, the healing, the hurt—he still looked at you like that.

“You’re late,” he said, voice low and warm as he closed the notebook and tucked it under his arm.

“You’re wearing your glasses,” you replied, unable to keep the grin off your face.

He huffed. “Didn’t mean to. Just got caught up in the numbers. Didn’t wanna strain my damn eyes again.”

You stepped closer, heart easing in your chest the way it always did when he was near. “You look good.”

Joel gave you a look, tilting his head. “You makin’ fun of me?”

“No,” you said, wrapping your arms around his middle.  “I mean it. There’s something kind of... sexy librarian about you.”

He let out a dry laugh, hand coming up to tug the glasses off and hook them into the collar of his shirt. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know, but you love it, though”

“I do,” he said without hesitation, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Then his gaze shifted a little more serious, a little softer. “Everything go alright out there?”

You nodded, leaning your shoulder into his chest. “Yeah. Nothing we couldn’t handle. Rick confessed his love for me, though.”

Joel stopped mid-step. “He what?”

You burst out laughing at his expression. “It was harmless. Kind of awkward. I think he mostly just needed to say it to get it off his chest.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, but there wasn’t an ounce of jealousy in his face, just amused disbelief. “Poor boy.”

“Right?” you said, still grinning. “He looked like he was about to faint. Said you’d probably bury him under the tomato garden.”

Joel gave a thoughtful nod. “Not a bad idea.”

You swatted his arm as he slipped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against him. His body was warm, solid, familiar.

“You know I only love one grumpy man in this town,” you murmured, tucking your hand into the space between his coat and flannel.

He looked down at you, something tender and unspoken in his eyes. “I know.”

Your steps slowed, gravel crunching gently beneath your boots as the space between the two of you closed even more. You turned to face him, chin tilted up, your hands sliding into the open edges of his coat to rest against his chest.

Joel's brows lifted just a bit, eyes flickering between yours and your mouth. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. You leaned up and kissed him softly—just enough to make him pause and breathe you in. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek in that way that always made you feel like you were something rare. Something precious.

The kiss lingered, unhurried and warm in the freezing air.

When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his. “Tell me about your day,” you whispered.

Joel hummed low in his chest, his nose brushing against yours. “Not as excitin’ as yours, apparently,” he muttered, and you could hear the faint smirk in his voice.

You grinned. “Still wanna hear about it.”

He sighed, but it was soft. Content. “Well, I argued with Tommy about expanding the southeast fence. Again. He’s still convinced we need to pull it in tighter. I told him he’s just scared of dealing with the extra patrols.”

You chuckled. “He is scared of extra patrols.”

“Damn right,” Joel muttered, clearly pleased you agreed. “Helped Maria sort through some of the winter inventory. Got roped into fixing a leaky pipe in the clinic because somebody thought I was the only one with ‘good hands.’”

You looked up at him with a grin. “Well… they’re not wrong.”

That made him laugh again, the sound low and rough and good. “Are you flirting with me, darlin’?”

“Maybe.”

“After all these years?”

“Especially after all these years.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a beat. “You keep that up and I’m gonna have to warm you up properly once we get inside.”

You raised a brow. “Promise?”

Joel groaned and gave a playful shake of his head. “You’re trouble.”

“You love it,” you said again, smiling as you slipped your hand into his and started walking toward home, where the hearth was probably still warm and the bed even warmer.

And God, you really did love this life. This normal, beautiful, quiet life with him.

As you reached your home, Joel’s hand squeezed yours gently before slipping away. He paused on the porch, his eyes drawn toward the garage across the yard. A faint flicker of light glowed from the crack beneath the door, soft, irregular, probably from that old lamp Ellie refused to replace. You followed his gaze, the air suddenly still around the two of you.

“She’s in there,” Joel murmured, his voice lower now. Not tense, exactly—but something sad, almost wary. You knew that tone. He’d been using it a lot when it came to her lately.

You nodded, shrugging off your coat. “Yeah, she seems to spend a lot of time in there.”

Joel lingered, eyes fixed on the garage like he could see right through the wall and into her thoughts. “Do you know if she’s going to the New Year’s thing tonight?”

You turned to look at him, reaching out to take his gloves from him as he pulled them off. “She didn’t say a lot to me this morning.”

Joel nodded; lips pressed into a thin line. He looked older when he worried—shoulders heavier, jaw tighter. “I wouldn’t blame her if she doesn´t.”

“Things are different now,” you said softly, brushing a bit of snow off his shoulder. “She’s still figuring out how to be... okay with everything. With you, okay. With both of us.”

“I don’t blame her,” he said after a moment. “I just… I hate not knowing how to make it better.”

You stepped closer, resting a hand against his chest. “Maybe it’s not the right time. You’re still here, waiting, still being there for her.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He looked at the garage one more time, eyes soft with a regret and longing, something like hope, but worn thin.

Then he turned back to you, lips brushing your forehead as he let out a long breath. “C’mon,” he said quietly. “Let’s get inside before you freeze that smart mouth off.”

You smiled and nudged the door open. “Too bad. I had plans to use it tonight.”

Joel laughed under his breath as he followed you inside, letting the door close gently behind you.

The world felt warm and still when you opened your eyes.

That fuzzy kind of stillness where the light was soft and golden through the curtains, and your limbs were heavy in the best way—boneless and relaxed under the weight of a thick quilt. You blinked slowly, adjusting to the calm, to the scent of pine still lingering from the firewood and Joel’s flannel shirt close by.

Your head was resting on his lap.

Joel sat slouched back against the couch cushions, legs stretched out, a book open in one hand, his glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t noticed you waking yet. Or maybe he had, and just didn’t say anything.

The fingers of his free hand combed lazily through your hair, tracing slow, thoughtful paths over your scalp and down to the nape of your neck. Over and over again, like it was as natural to him now as breathing. That kind of tenderness that wasn’t loud or showy, just there—anchoring and steady.

You smiled, sleep still in your voice. “You’re gonna put me right back to sleep doing that.”

Joel’s eyes flicked down from the page to meet yours, and a slow smile spread across his face. “That a bad thing?”

“No,” you murmured, shifting just slightly to curl closer into his thigh. “It’s a really, really good thing.”

He hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest, low and warm. His thumb brushed along your temple in a soft arc. “Didn’t mean to wake you. You were out cold.”

“Blame your lap. It’s cozy.”

He chuckled, eyes returning briefly to his book. “Didn’t think you’d fall asleep halfway through tellin’ me about how Rick nearly dropped his gun while trying to impress you.”

“He did!” you laughed, eyes closing again. “It slipped right outta the holster when he tried to be all cool and stretch like nothing hurt. I nearly fell off the damn horse.”

Joel shook his head, the quiet amusement clear in his face. “Man’s a disaster.”

“Mmm, but at least a harmless one,” you yawned.

Another beat passed, quiet except for the sound of pages turning and the fireplace crackling low in the background. His fingers never stopped moving in your hair.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked softly, not even sure where the question had come from. “Before here. All the chaos we used to live in. The constant movement. The adrenaline.”

Joel’s hand slowed, just slightly. You felt the pause. Then the steady rhythm picked up again, gentler.

“Sometimes,” he admitted after a moment. “Not the danger, but the feeling of having to keep going. No room to think too hard. Now Ellie doesn’t talk to me.

You nodded; eyes still closed. “That would be temporary, you know.”

“Yeah.” His voice lowered, more thoughtful. “But I’d trade a hundred years of running for one of these. You and me like this.

That made you laugh again, and his hand cradled the back of your head as you shifted to look up at him.

“You’re getting soft in your old age, Miller.”

He looked down at you over the rim of his glasses, brow raised. “Say that again and see if I let you keep using my lap as a pillow.”

You smirked. “You’d miss me.”

“I would,” he said quietly, and just like that, the teasing faded into something real.

You smiled at him, “I should start getting ready for the party tonight.”

“You look perfect just like this.”

“How romantic, Joel Miller, but I probably smell bad.”

Joel snorted softly, eyes crinkling at the corners as he closed the book and set it aside. “Darlin’, we’ve both smelled worse. Remember when we reached Bill’s house?”

You groaned dramatically, burying your face into his thigh. “Don’t remind me. That was not my best moment.”

“I didn’t mind it then either,” he said, his fingers grazing down your jaw, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You could be covered in mud and I’d still think you’re the prettiest girl in the room.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by how easily he could say something like that now. It hadn’t always been like this. It used to come out in actions, his silence, his worry, the way he stood between you and anything that even looked like a threat. But now… he let himself say it. He let himself mean it.

And you never took that lightly.

“I’ll take the compliment,” you murmured, sitting up slowly and stretching under the blanket. Joel helped you out of it without a word, and you lingered just a second longer to brush your lips over his before standing.

He watched you, content and quiet, as you moved toward the bedroom. “Do you want me to wear that sweater you like?” you asked over your shoulder.

Joel raised an eyebrow. “The one with the buttons?”

You nodded, already pulling your hair back into a messy bun.

“Hell yeah,” he said, voice a little rougher now. “That one drives me crazy.”

You laughed as you disappeared around the corner, the sound making Joel lean his head back against the couch with a quiet, content sigh. His hand drifted absentmindedly to the spot where your head had been resting only moments ago, like some part of him still needed to hold on.

From the window he noticed the light in the garage had gone dark. Maybe Ellie was getting ready too. Maybe tonight would be a little bit closer to feel like a whole again.

You stepped out of the bedroom a few minutes later, brushing the last bit of lint off the front of your sweater—the one with the buttons Joel never shut up about. It was a little snug at the waist, hugged you just enough to make your point. Paired with the jeans he said made your legs look “dangerously good,” you were banking on at least a solid double-take.

Joel looked up from the couch, still lazily sprawled across the cushions, glasses sliding down his nose.

And damn if you didn’t get more than a double-take.

His hand went straight to his chest like he’d been physically struck. His mouth opened, then closed again like he forgot how to breathe.

“Jesus,” he muttered, sitting up straighter, eyes trailing slowly from your boots to your eyes. “You trying to kill me?”

You grinned, one hand resting on your hip as you posed, just a little. “What, this old thing?”

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You look…” He trailed off, searching for the word. “I don’t even get a word for it. Beautiful doesn’t make it justice.”

“You’re such a liar,” you teased gently, though your cheeks were already warm.

“I’m not,” he said, still staring. “You walk into that party lookin’ like that, I’m gonna have to fight half the town.”

You walked over and stood between his knees, his hands naturally coming to rest at your waist, thumbs sliding along the hem of your sweater.

“Don’t worry,” you said, brushing a hand through his hair with deliberate slowness. “I’m only going with one man tonight.”

His eyes met yours, serious under all the teasing now. “You’re mine,” he said lowly, not like a warning, but like a vow.

“I always have been,” you whispered back.

And for a second, it didn’t matter where you were going or who’d be at the party. There was only this, his hands steady on you, your breath soft against his, and the quiet thrum of a life you’d built together piece by piece.

“C’mon, Miller,” you said, pulling back with a smile. “Get dressed. Can’t show up to a New Year’s party looking like you just came in from the stables.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “I was gonna wear the flannel you like, but now I’m reconsidering.”

You leaned down and kissed him slowly, “Wear the flannel. Then lose the flannel later.”

Joel groaned into your mouth. “You’re evil.”

You smirked. “You love it.”

He planted a kiss on your lips before standing up from the couch.

The lights in the main hall of Jackson’s community center glowed warm and low, casting golden halos over strings of mismatched decorations—handmade banners, old Christmas lights, paper stars that crinkled every time the door opened and let in the wind. Music played softly from an old radio in the corner, laughter and voices mingling with the hum of people pouring in, already loosening up with drinks and stories.

You stood near the back wall, a glass of something vaguely sweet in your free hand, the other laced tightly with Joel’s. His thumb brushed slow circles over your knuckles as you chatted with Maria, who was animatedly retelling something Tommy had done earlier that day involving a runaway chicken and a very confused patrol dog.

You were half-listening, smiling and nodding along, but you felt it more than saw it—that Joel wasn’t really paying attention. His body was here, steady beside you, but his focus had shifted.

You followed the subtle line of his gaze, and there she was.

Ellie.

She was standing on the edge of a table, watching Dina, dancing in the middle of the place. Her hair surprisingly neat. She wore one of the jackets Joel had patched for her last winter, and she looked... better. Not completely at ease, but not avoiding people either. Laughing at how Dina enjoyed herself, her face lit up in that rare, open way that used to be more common. That Joel hadn’t seen in too long.

Your fingers squeezed around his, gently tugging his attention back to you. He blinked, then looked down, sheepish.

“She showed up,” you said quietly, so only he could hear.

Joel nodded, but didn’t speak at first. His jaw worked slightly, like there was something caught there that he couldn’t quite get out. “Didn’t think she would,” he murmured eventually.

You leaned your head into his shoulder, your hand still holding his like it anchored you both. “She’s trying,” you said softly. “Just like you are.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just watched Ellie for another long moment. His face unreadable, but you could feel the storm behind it—the guilt and the love and the endless what ifs he carried like extra weight on his back.

“She still wears that jacket,” he said finally, voice a little rough.

“She still loves you,” you said, just as sure. “Even when it’s complicated.”

Joel looked down at you then, the depth in his eyes something that stole your breath a little. “You think it’ll ever go back to how it was?”

You turned slightly to face him, brushing your thumb along the inside of his wrist. “No,” you said honestly. “But maybe it’ll become something new eventually.”

He nodded slowly, like he was trying to believe it. Maybe tonight helped.

The minutes had stretched into hours, in a few ones. A new year would come into your lives and you were enjoying the hope that brought to all people in the community. Yes, you were enjoying the party, until something completely shifted the ambiance.

When Ellie’s voice came.

Loud. Angry. Hurt.

“I don’t need your fucking help, Joel!”

You froze.

The room quieted, just a little. Just enough.

Joel didn’t say anything at first. You watched his face—how it closed off, his expression almost neutral except for the way his jaw clenched. There was something like shame in his eyes. Like he’d overstepped. Like he knew this was coming.

He turned. Not fast. Not dramatic. Just quietly stepped back, like every inch he put between himself and Ellie was one he’d deserved. He didn’t look at you. Just walked toward the door of the hall, shoulders tight, hands in his pockets, and disappeared outside.

You turned slowly, your gaze falling on Ellie.

She was still standing there. Chest rising and falling like she'd just finished running. Dina beside her, wide-eyed, unsure whether to step in or stay back. The room had started to move again around them, but you stayed where you were, heart sinking.

Ellie looked at you.

And you didn’t say anything. Didn’t frown or shake your head. Just… looked.

There was disappointment in your eyes—yes. A flicker of sadness too, not just for Joel, but for her. For the pain stitched between them. For the ways she still didn’t understand that Joel didn’t defend her to take control, or because he thought she was weak—but because he loved her.

Because she was still his.

And whether she was ready to admit it or not, he would always be hers.

Ellie looked away first. Back to her shoes. Her jaw tensed like she was biting back words. But she didn’t say anything else.

You waited another beat, then gently set your glass down, excused yourself from the people at your table with a small nod, and went after Joel.

The cold had settled deep by the time you made it back home.

The porch light cast a soft glow across the wooden steps, and there he was—sitting in the chair like he had nowhere else to be, guitar in his lap, hands quiet on the strings. He wasn’t playing. Just holding it, his fingers curled around the neck like they used to when he didn’t know what else to do with his hands.

His glasses were off, resting on the side table next to him. The soft creak of the porch boards under your steps made his head lift, and his eyes met yours.

You smiled gently. “Hey, cowboy.”

Joel didn’t say anything right away, just gave you the ghost of a smile before looking down at the guitar again.

You crossed the porch and crouched in front of him, resting your hand on his knee. “She didn’t mean it.”

He let out a breath, slow and tight. “Yeah, she did. Maybe not in the way she thinks. But she did.”

You didn’t argue. Instead, you just leaned your head against his leg, wrapping your arms around his knee. “Come inside,” you murmured. “It’s freezing.”

“I like the cold,” he said quietly.

“You’re getting old,” you teased, tilting your face up toward him with a smile. “Your bones can’t handle it anymore.”

That pulled the faintest smirk from him. “You keep talking like that and you’re getting a snowball to the face next time it drops.”

“Promises, promises.”

You stood up and reached out a hand to him. He hesitated for a moment before placing the guitar gently against the wall. His hand slid into yours, warm and rough and steady, and you led him inside.

The house welcomed you with its familiar warmth, soft light spilling from the kitchen lamp. You tugged him into the living room and stopped, turning to face him, fingers still wrapped around his.

“You remember how to dance, Joel?”

He raised a brow. “Now?”

You nodded. “Now. Just us.”

There was no music, just the sound of the wind outside and the hum of life still buzzing faintly in town. But you stepped closer, placing your other hand on his chest as his found your waist, and you started to sway slowly, like there was a song only the two of you could hear.

You looked up at him, voice soft. “You know there’s no life for me after you, right?”

His eyes flicked to yours, searching. Quiet.

You swallowed. “Not just no one else… No life. I’m not made for this world without you in it.”

His jaw tensed, his hand tightening slightly on your hip.

“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than I even thought I could.”

Joel's voice was rough when he finally spoke. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“But it’s true.”

His gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, and you saw the fight in him—the weight of it all, the doubt, the guilt. But you also saw the way his heart ached for you. How much he wanted to believe he deserved it.

“You’re all I’ve got,” he said finally. “You… and her. And I keep messin’ it up.”

You shook your head and pulled him closer, pressing your forehead to his. “You didn’t mess anything up tonight. You stood up for her. That’s what love looks like, even if she doesn’t know how to take it right now.”

Joel let out a shaky breath. You leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered. “Always.”

And with his arms wrapped around you in the middle of that quiet living room, Joel let himself hold on.

You kept swaying with him, barely moving, your arms snug around his broad frame like you were afraid he might drift away if you let go.

The firelight from the hearth flickered softly across his face, casting shadows that danced along the lines etched into his skin. You lifted your gaze, taking him in—really taking him in.

His hair was more silver than brown now, especially at the temples, and his beard had followed suit, peppered with white that hadn’t been there when you first met him back in the QZ. The creases around his eyes were deeper, more permanent, carved by years of worry, loss, and that rare, secretive laughter you’d always tried to pull from him like a prize. His hands, still strong, still steady, were rougher too—scarred by more than just time. And his eyes… God, those eyes. Still the same deep brown, still full of everything he never said out loud, but they were heavier now, more tired.

But even in all of it, in every reminder that time had passed, that the world had taken its toll on him—he had never looked more beautiful to you.

This was the man who had survived when others hadn’t. The man who had chosen you when he could’ve kept his walls up forever. The man who still held you like you were the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

Your fingers slid up his chest, fingertips brushing over the soft fabric of his flannel before curling lightly at the collar. You rose up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, slow and lingering. Then another, along the edge of his jaw. One at his temple. His brow.

Joel's hand tightened on your hip, the other cradling the back of your head now, and his breath caught when your lips found the corner of his mouth.

You pulled back just an inch and whispered, “I love all of it. All of you. Then. Now. Always.”

He looked at you like he was trying to memorize your face.

And then you kissed him—soft, deep, like he was the only thing tethering you to the earth. His lips moved against yours with that familiar tenderness, that unspoken hunger that had never gone away, no matter how many years passed. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate. It was slow and sure, like he wanted the moment to last forever.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, breath warm on your lips.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

You shook your head gently. “That’s not your decision to make.”

Joel let out a quiet, broken laugh and kissed you again—softer this time, like a thank you.

You leaned in again, drawn to him like the tide to the moon. Your lips brushed over his once more—slower this time, tender and unrushed. A kiss that said everything without needing words. His hand slid up your back, fingers splayed gently between your shoulder blades, holding you to him like he never wanted to let go.

When you finally pulled away, your noses still touching, you smiled against his mouth. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

He exhaled softly, his breath warm as his eyes opened to meet yours. “Yeah?”

You nodded, heart full. “This is to us,” you whispered, “to spending more years like this. Together.”

Something flickered in his gaze—quiet, reverent, a little disbelieving like the weight of your love still knocked the air out of him every time. His thumb stroked along your jaw, rough and careful all at once.

“Until the end, darling,” he said hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion.

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, resting your head against his chest, right over the steady thrum of his heart. And there, in the soft quiet of your living room, with the muffled echo of fireworks somewhere in the distance and his arms holding you like a vow, you knew there was no one else you’d ever need.

Joel held you there for a long, quiet beat—his hand resting at the small of your back, the other curled at your nape, cradling you gently like the world might crumble if he let go.

Then he tilted his head slightly, eyes finding yours again under the soft glow of the fire. There was something raw in them now—unguarded, soft in that way only you ever got to see.

“Happy new year, baby,” he said, voice low, gravelly, full of something deep and real. “To more years. However, many we’re lucky enough to get.”

You felt your throat tighten, the words catching in your chest. But then he said it, firm, steady, like it had lived in him for years.

“I love you.”

Not rushed. Not whispered. Just said. Like a truth that didn’t need any decoration.

Your hand slid to his cheek, thumb brushing over the slight stubble there. His eyes closed at your touch, leaning into the warmth.

This was your beginning. Again, and again. Every year. Every moment. Joel was your home.

[sturnblue]

𐙚 — movie night.

chris sturniolo :: reader

your friend chris came over for a casual movie night, but things didn’t exactly go as planned after he found something unexpected in one of your drawers.

warnings! smut. dom!chris. fingering. overstimulation. edge control. use of vibrator.

"can we watch cars? it's been a while since i last watched it." chris asked throwing his body against your bed. "are you serious?" you gazed at him chuckling and he nodded. "we already watched it like a hundred times." he shrugged, taking off his shoes.

"this is my side, by the way." you said pointing at the spot his was laying on. "too late." a playful smirk crept onto his face, making you chuckle, rolling your eyes.

"can we watch it or not?" he asked, impatiently. his eyes following you while you made your way to the other side of the bed. "yeah, sure." you didn't actually care, and, to be honest, you liked how funny it was to watch cars with him.

"why can you watch it at your place? i know nick's out, but you still got matt to watch it with you, since you don't want to be alone."

"yeah, he wasn't in a good mood today, y'know? so i'll thought i'll give him some space." he said, shrugging. you chuckled. "what about my space?" "oh, you don't need it." he gave you a soft but teasingly smile, and you rolled your eyes, pulling his face away.

"just put the movie already." you said smiling back, shaking your head. "i'm trying, but i can't find the goddamn remote" he complained, running his hands over the sheets, searching for it. "first drawer next to you." you said reaching for the light switch next to bed, making the room goes dark.

suddenly you remembered. "chris, wait—!" you didn't keep just the remote inside that drawer. "oh god." he lowly said. you froze, heat rushing to your face.

he turned around again, facing you. his eyebrows raised and a slow smirk forming on his lips like he'd just uncovered your deepest secret. "this is definitely not a remote." there it was. in his hands. your vibrator. a clit sucker, to be exact.

"chris— gimme that!" you leaned in his direction trying to get the pink toy out of his hand, failing. "didn't know you had one of these." your face burning. a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "chris, that's not funny, put it back."

"relax. i'm not judging you." he said analyzing the object in his hands. "i mean, everyone need to get some fun, y'know?" he was holding a laugh and you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

"so, how often do you—" "chris!" you cut him off, burring your face in your hands. "what? i'm just curious." his giggles were driving you mad, and you knew he was never letting that go.

"i never used it." your voice muffled by your hands. "never?" he sounded surprised. "yeah— i mean, it's new and i never..." you gazed at him again, your voice low and clearly full of embarrassment.

chris turned it on, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. you both watching the small silicone toy slightly vibrating in his hands, and you involuntarily pressed your legs together.

"how many levels does it has?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the clit sucker. "seven, i guess." you lowly said. "seven?" he raised his eyebrows. "is it too much?"

"chris— look, i don't know, okay? i told you, i never tried. now put it back, let's just watch the movie, alright?" you said already done with that whole conversation.

"do you want to?" he looked at you. eyes darkened. "i'm sorry, what?" "do you wanna try it?" you chuckled "what— i mean, yeah, i brought it, so i'll probably try it someday, i guess."

"i meant right now." you locked eyes with him. your brows frowning in confusion, uncertain you heard it right. "alright, stop. that's not funny." you nervously chuckled.

"i'm not joking." his husky voice making you shiver. the vibrator was still on, and the low noise coming from it was messing with your thoughts. "chris." your breath was failing, heart racing. it felt like your body was betraying you.

"oh, come on." he grinned and shifted in bed, getting closer to you. you froze watching his movements. "i know you wanna try it. just... let me help you."

you watched him slowly approaching the toy to you. he started trailing it on your knees, slowly moving up to your thighs. your eyes locked again in his face, watching his eyes observing your legs, the vibration making your whole body shiver. the growing arousal not letting you think straight.

"what do you say, huh?" he gazed at you, eyes meeting yours, soft but dark. he licked his lips and looked down at yours. his eyes running through your face, waiting for an answer.

you slowly nodded and he sighed, a relieved sound, and smiled at you. without another word, he leaned closer, sealing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. the vibrator still slightly working on your upper thigh.

"take your shorts off." he commanded, breaking the kiss, and you slowly obeyed.

he easily pulled you into his lap, your back laying on his chest, bodies intertwined. "do you think you can handle all levels, sweetie?" he whispered in your ears, slightly biting your earlobe. you nodded, biting your lips. "what's wrong, pretty? use your words."

"yes." your voice barely a whisper. "that's better." he turned the vibrator off and threw it on the mattress. his lips now on your neck. you closed your eyes and laid your head on his shoulder, giving him more access to your skin.

his hands roamed over your body, stopping at your thighs. his lips never letting your neck go. he slowly spread your legs, his fingers tracing soft circles on your inner thighs, leaving you breathless.

"you're fuckin' beautiful." every whisper leaving his mouth making you even wetter. his hands roamed up your body again, this time bringing your shirt with them.

now you were completely exposed for him, your skin against his clothed body. you arched your back feeling his hardness against you.

you gasped feeling his warm hands cupping your breasts. his lips savoring every inch of your neck, biting, licking, leaving little marks.

while one of his hands kept playing with your tits, the other went down your stomach, stopping inches above your sensitive spot. you closed your eyes and locked your fingers in his hair, whines leaving your mouth from anticipation.

his fingers finally touched where you needed the most, slightly spreading you open, feeling your wetness. "so wet, and all for me."

without waiting another second, both of his fingers completely entered your hole, making you bite your lips, trying to muffle a moan. "na-ah, i wanna hear you, pretty. let it out." you lowly moaned again in response, feeling his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you, while your walls clenched them tightly.

he brought his sticky fingers close to your face. "tongue out." you immediately obeyed, feeling his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself. "does it taste good, ma?"

"u-hum" you nodded, yours sounds muffled by his fingers while you were sucking it clean.

one of his hand resting on your lower stomach, the other grabbed the pink toy again, turning it on at the lowest level. heat running through your body with anticipation.

"keep them open f'me, 'kay?" he asked opening your legs with his free hand. you gasped feeling the vibrator on your skin, close to where you needed it the most, but still not enough.

"is it good here, babe?" he whispered and you shook your head. he chuckled. "no? you want more?" chris was teasing you, he wanted to hear you beg. "y-yes." you answered, voice low and weak, your body slightly moving, searching for what you were desperate for.

you moaned when you finally felt it against your most sensitive area. the vibrator lazily sucking your clit, still weak, but enough to make you squirm.

chris started slowly circling it against you. "better here, huh? turn the lights on again, i wanna see you." you nodded, seaching for the light switch again, turning it on.

you threw you head on his shoulder. his hand that was keeping you opened now on your hair, making you look down again. "look at it, ma. look how it sucks you." he pressed the button again, making its intensity go up.

you whimpered watching the pink toy in between your legs, sending jolts of pleasure all over you. "wanna try level three?" he asked already increasing the intensity once again. too much. "oops, i think that's four, isn't it, ma? we can stay here a lil' longer, what you think?"

"chris—" you whimpered, grabbing his arm. the small toy making your body twich. the tension quickly building up due the change of intensities. "i'm close." you warned, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach approaching.

"already? nah, i wanna try all levels before you cum, hold it." you nodded biting your lips, trying hard to prolong the inevitable.

the pleasure only kept growing and you lowly cried his name, not sure how much long you could hold it. "fuck— chris, lemme cum, please.

"not yet. we're still at level four." his lips were on your neck again. your body squirming, trying its best to hold back. your nails digging into his arm.

level five now. "chriiis." you whimpered. "keep holding it, ma. just be a good girl for me and hold it, alright?"

chris was rock hard just from knowing he was making you feel that way. feeling you squirm, hearing your pretty noises, the power he has over you, everything about it was driving him crazy.

"please, just... let me—" your words were cutt off by a moan, your legs uncontrollably shaking as you finally come undone. "fuck!" you screamed and chris bit your shoulder.

he increased it to level six. your legs acted by themselves, involuntarily closing together. "i said keep them open." he growled at your ear. "chris— too much—"

"oh, sweetheart, i didn't tell you to cum, now you're giving me another one." his legs intertwined with yours, holding you open and still for him.

you lowly cried, feeling overstimulated. your whole body was twitching, he got the intensity up again. last level. the vibrations and the way he was circling it on your clit making you roll your eyes.

"chris— i can't." you frenetically shook your head. "one more." he wisphered against your shoulder, kissing it, trailing a path of soft kisses up your neck. crazy contrast to what was happening in between your legs.

your fingers intertwined with his hair, gripping it tightly. "chris! holy shit—" you cried feeling both of his fingers inside you again. the overstimulation was too much, the aching pleasure making you arch your back.

"shhh, it's okay sweetheart, stay still f'me." his horse voice in your ear adding even more to the pleasure. "god, gonna cum again." you warned. your voice high pitched, completely lost in the moment as you felt your climax building up for the second time.

"cum for me, baby." he pressed the vibrator harder on your clit, his long fingers touching your sweet spot, making you see stars.

with a loud cry, you let yourself go again. your whole body trembling, weak. your legs desperately trying to close, but his grip on you tightened, not letting you do it.

you squirmed, feeling more sensitive than ever. "chris, please—" you cried and he took the vibrator off you, turning it off and throwing it somewhere in bed.

his fingers still moving inside you without hurring, stretching your walls, feeling everything. he didn't want it to end. he was already addicted to the feeling of you clenching around him, so tight, sensible, the pretty little noises coming out of your mouth, all caused by him.

when he finally stopped, you whined feeling him emptying you. this time he took his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. "so fuckin' delicious."

he turned you around, putting your chest onto his, both of your legs resting on either side of his body. one of his hands softly stroking your still shaking thigh, the other in your hair. he left a tender kiss on your forehead. "you did so good for me, beautiful."

you looked up at him through your lashes. your eyes were tired but soft. he gave you a smile, his hands stroking your hair giving you a comfortable feeling.

"i bet my dick could make you feel even better." he said, taking you by surprise and you laughed. "well, next time we could try that instead."

"next time, huh? movie nights just got a lot more interesting, don't you think?" he smirked at you, sealing his lips on your forehead one more time.

© sturnblue.

english is not my first language!

[cressidagrey]

Wait, What?!

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: 

Oscar Piastri managed to keep his wife a secret on accident for nearly half a decade…

Come to think off, that was not the only one he kept a secret. 

Notes: Part 2 of The mysterious Mrs. Piastri verse...

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Text Messages: Lando Norris & Max Fewtrell

Lando: BRO. EMERGENCY. URGENT. YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS.

Max: Oh my god, what now?

Lando: OSCAR. PIASTRI. IS. MARRIED.

Max: …Yeah, that tracks.

Lando: WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT TRACKS????

Max: I mean, I didn’t know, but also… not surprised.

Lando: HOW ARE YOU NOT SURPRISED??

Max: Because, mate, I knew Oscar back in the Renault Eurocup days. And he was in love.  Properly, stupidly, pathetically in love. You think Oscar’s all calm and unbothered? You should’ve seen teenage Oscar.

Lando: I CAN’T. MY BRAIN WON’T ACCEPT THIS.

Max: Bro, this man used to sit in the  paddock and stare at his phone, smiling at texts from her. Like, full-on grinning. It was disturbing.

Lando: NO.

Max: Oh yeah. Proper gobsmacked-in-love type of obsessed. We used to rip into him for it, and he didn’t even care.

Lando: WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE DIDN’T CARE???

Max: I mean, you know how Oscar is. He’d just shrug and go “Yeah, and?” Like we were the crazy ones.

Lando: I CAN’T PROCESS THIS.

Max: Mate, he was obsessed with her. Like, actual teenage boy, head-over-heels, no-thoughts-just-Felicity obsessed.

Lando: OSCAR???

Max: YES. You have no idea. We’d finish a race, and he’d be on his phone before he even got his helmet off. Always texting.

Lando: To her???

Max: Always. If he wasn’t texting, he was on FaceTime. If he wasn’t on FaceTime, he was watching her ballet videos like they were onboard footage.

Lando: …Ballet videos???

Max: She’s a ballerina. He tried to do ballet once. It went horribly.

Lando: PLEASE TELL ME THERE’S FOOTAGE.

Max: No, but I will never forget the look of pure pain on his face when he came back from one of her classes. “Max, this is the worst thing I’ve ever done. My calves don’t work anymore.”

Lando: I AM IN TEARS.

Max: And don’t even get me started on the food.

Lando: What food???

Max: Oscar always had the best snacks, and they were always things she made him. Like pandan cakes, curry puffs, some kind of egg tarts. Man was eating good.

Lando: I THOUGHT THAT WAS KIM?!

Lando: YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE WAS PACKING HIM LUNCHES LIKE A LITTLE HOUSEWIFE EVEN BACK THEN???

Max: Not even kidding. He always had food, and it was always from her. One time, I asked if I could have some, and he was like, “No, Felicity made this for me.”

Lando: HE WAS ALREADY A WHIPPED HUSBAND BEFORE HE EVEN TURNED 18.

Max: Precisely. Man has been gone for her since day one.

Lando: Selfish.

Max: To be fair, if someone made me homemade food with that much love, I wouldn’t share either.

Lando: …Fair.

Max: Also, she’s tiny. Like, I swear, I thought Oscar was going to break her just by hugging her. It was actually terrifying.

Lando: Who even is she???

Max: Felicity Lee? Leong? Something like that. She went to school with him. Tiny, startlingly pretty. I’m talking, ‘you do a double take and forget how to speak’ kind of pretty. That girl had Oscar so whipped before they even finished school, it was ridiculous.

GRID GROUP CHAT

Charles: WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE A WIFE???

Charles: OSCAR, EXPLAIN. NOW.

Pierre: I JUST SPAT MY COFFEE OUT.

Carlos: I NEARLY DROVE OFF THE ROAD.

George: YOU HAVE A WHOLE WIFE??? A LEGALLY BOUND PARTNER???

George: I’m sorry, I need someone to confirm because I think I hallucinated.

Oscar: …Yes?

Charles: OH SURE, JUST CASUALLY. "Yes." Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bombshell on live TV.

Lewis: This is the most shocking news of the year, I need a moment.

Alex: You have a wife?

Alex: SINCE WHEN???

Fernando: The quiet ones always have secrets.

Max: Why do I feel like Daniel just screamed somewhere?

Daniel: I AM SCREAMING. I AM SCREAMING IN MY HOTEL ROOM. WHAT DO YOU MEAN OSCAR IS MARRIED??

Oscar: Five years.

Pierre: FIVE YEARS????

Carlos: YOU GOT MARRIED AT EIGHTEEN???

Lando: WHILE THE REST OF US WERE STILL FIGURING OUT HOW TO TALK TO GIRLS, YOU WERE OUT HERE GETTING MARRIED???

Oscar: Yeah.

Charles: WHY DID NONE OF US KNOW???

Logan: You guys didn’t know?

Charles: YOU KNEW?!

Logan: Yeah, met her ages ago.

Lando: HOW. WHY. WHEN.

Logan: Prema? Arthur knows too, I am pretty sure. 

Pierre: YOU WERE HOLDING THIS INFORMATION FROM US.

Oscar: I didn’t think it was that big of a deal?

Charles: NOT A BIG DEAL?!

Carlos: You could have at least mentioned it.

Lewis: Does she exist? Are you lying? Do we need proof?

Oscar: …Yes, Lewis, she exists.

Lando: WHO IS SHE. WHAT IS HER NAME. WHAT DOES SHE LOOK LIKE.

Max: How did you manage this? You are… you.

Oscar: ???

Daniel: I NEED TO SIT DOWN.

Lando: YOU ARE SITTING DOWN.

Daniel: I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

Oscar: You guys are being dramatic.

Pierre: You hid a whole wife from us. We are allowed to be dramatic.

Oscar: You never asked?

George: WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE NEVER ASKED??? HOW WERE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW TO ASK???

Oscar: I don’t really talk about my personal life.

Lando: CLEARLY.

Pierre: But why doesn’t she come to races?

Oscar: She doesn’t like the circus.

Oscar: It gives her anxiety.

Oscar: And she’s already given up enough for me.

Charles: WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S GIVEN UP ENOUGH FOR YOU??

George: Bro, are you hearing yourself?? That sounds serious.

Carlos: That sounds like something from a movie.

Oscar: I don’t know why you’re all freaking out.

Pierre: BECAUSE YOU DROPPED THE BIGGEST NEWS OF THE YEAR LIKE IT WAS NOTHING???

Lando: Yeah, and now we’re finding out your mysterious wife has sacrificed things for you??? OSCAR.

Oscar: Her family didn’t approve of us getting married so young.

Lando: Okay, fair, that’s kind of understandable—

Oscar: So they cut her off.

Lando: WHAT.

Pierre: WHAT.

Carlos: EXCUSE ME???

Daniel: I’M GOING TO FIND THEM AND YELL AT THEM.

Charles: HOLD ON. YOU’RE SAYING SHE LEFT EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND HER FAMILY JUST—DIDN’T SPEAK TO HER AGAIN???

Oscar: Pretty much.

Lewis: …That’s awful.

Oscar: It is what it is.

Lando: NO, NO, IT’S NOT JUST WHAT IT IS. WHAT THE HELL, OSCAR.

Pierre: HOW HAVE YOU JUST NEVER TALKED ABOUT THIS BEFORE???

Oscar: Because it’s not my story to tell.

Carlos: That’s… actually fair.

Max: Her parents are stupid.

Oscar: Yeah, well. Nothing I can do about that.

Lewis: That must have been really hard for her.

Oscar: It was. It still is, sometimes. But she doesn’t regret it.

Lando: BECAUSE SHE LOVES YOU???

Oscar: Yeah.

Pierre: Oh my god.

Daniel: I’m emotional.

George: Okay but we don’t even know her name.

Pierre: DROP THE NAME, OSCAR.

Oscar: Felicity.

Lando: FELICITY????

Pierre: That’s so cute, I can’t even be mad.

Daniel: FELICITY PIASTRI???

Oscar: Yeah.

Lando: WHERE DOES SHE LIVE?? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING HER???

Oscar: We live near the McLaren HQ.

Lando: YOU LIVE TOGETHER.

Pierre: OF COURSE THEY LIVE TOGETHER, LANDO, THEY’RE MARRIED.

Carlos: I feel like I need to lie down.

Daniel: You and me both.

Lewis: Alright, so when do we get to meet her?

Oscar: I’ll ask if she wants to come to Silverstone?

TEXT MESSAGES: Charles & Arthur Leclerc

Charles: ARTHUR.

Arthur: yes brother dearest

Charles: YOU KNEW OSCAR WAS MARRIED???

Arthur: uhhh yeah??

Charles: AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO TELL ME???

Arthur: why would i tell you? i thought you knew?

Charles: WHY WOULD I KNOW??? HE NEVER TALKS ABOUT IT.

Arthur: yeah, he’s private about it, but like… he’s been married for years. i thought it was just one of those things everyone knew??

Charles: EVERYONE??? APPARENTLY NOT ME.

Arthur: ok but be honest. if i told you “oh yeah oscar got married at 18,” would you have believed me?

Charles: …fair point.

Charles: BUT STILL. HE GOT MARRIED AT 18???

Arthur: i know. we were all out here at prema still figuring out how to flirt and oscar was out here being A HUSBAND.

Arthur: like, we were panicking over texting girls back and he was making plans for dinner with his wife.

Charles: HOW DID THIS NEVER COME UP???

Arthur: idk, he’s not the type to bring it up randomly.

Arthur: but if you do ask, it’s game over. bro is OBSESSED with her.

Charles: ???

Arthur: like, i’ve seen him sit through a full engineering debrief completely unfazed, no reaction, zero emotions.

Arthur: but then his wife texts him “good luck” and suddenly he looks like he just won the lottery.

Arthur: prema days were just a bunch of kids losing their minds over instagram likes while oscar was married.

Arthur: like, we’d be debating if texting a girl twice in a row was too desperate, and oscar was over there planning his life with his wife.

Arthur: her family basically disowned her when she married him.

Charles: …what?

Arthur: yeah. they thought she was ruining her life by marrying some kid in motorsport.

Arthur: they told her she was throwing everything away for him. that he’d never make it, that she’d regret it.

Arthur: and when she didn’t back down, they cut her off completely. oscar doesn’t talk about it because he knows.

Arthur: he knows what she gave up for him.

Arthur: and he takes that personally.

Arthur: like, have you ever seen oscar get actually angry?

Charles: …no?

Arthur: i have. once.

Arthur: i walked in on him on the phone with her father.

Arthur: it was the scariest moment of my life.

Charles: OSCAR???

Arthur: YES.

Arthur: he was so calm but also terrifying.

Arthur: like, i swear to god, he said something like, “i don’t care what you think of me, but you don’t get to make her feel like she’s not worth loving.”

Arthur: And then he told the guy that if he ever so much as thought about talking to her like that again, oscar would personally fly across the world and put him in the ground.

Arthur: and the worst part? her dad believed him.

Arthur: like. i could hear it. the silence. the fear.

Arthur: and then oscar just hung up like it was nothing.

Arthur: meanwhile, i’m standing there losing my mind, trying to comprehend that my quiet, nice, mild-mannered teammate had just casually promised to commit murder.

Charles: holy shit.

Arthur: yeah. so next time you see him, just know: that man would burn the world down for his wife and daughter

Charles: ARTHUR. EXPLAIN. NOW.

Arthur: explain what?

Charles: “OSCAR’S WIFE AND DAUGHTER”???

Arthur: ohhh yeah. oscar has a kid. her name’s Bee. cutest little girl ever.

Charles: WHAT DO YOU MEAN OSCAR HAS A KID.

Arthur: i mean oscar. has a kid.

Charles: SINCE WHEN.

Arthur: since like. three years ago.

Charles: HE HAD A CHILD AT TWENTY?

Arthur: yeah, man. wild, right?

Charles: WHY AM I JUST NOW FINDING OUT.

Arthur: idk. you never asked.

Charles: WHY WOULD I ASK “HEY ARTHUR, DOES OSCAR HAVE A SECRET FAMILY”???

Arthur: fair point.

Charles: DOES THIS MAKE ME A GRANDPA.

Arthur: oh my god. wait.

Arthur: it kinda does.

Arthur: papy charles.

Charles: I WILL MURDER YOU.

Arthur: relax, grandpa.

Charles: I AM NOT A GRANDPA.

Arthur: okay, old man.

Charles: FOCUS.

Charles: WHY DID NO ONE THINK TO MENTION THIS TO ME.

Arthur: because oscar’s private? plus, it’s not like it changes anything. he’s still the same oscar. just, y’know. a dad.

Charles: I CANNOT PROCESS THIS.

Arthur: bro, when i first found out, i thought he was crazy.

Arthur: like. imagine being twenty and deciding “yeah, i’m gonna be a dad now.” insane behavior.

Arthur: but honestly? he’s so good at it.

Arthur: like. weirdly good.

Charles: HOW.

Arthur: idk man. some people are just meant to be parents.

Arthur: he’s just so patient with her. like, you know how nothing ever rattles him? that times a hundred.

Arthur: she threw a toy car at his head once and he just smiled and said “nice aim, Bee.”

Charles: ???

Arthur: i’m telling you. completely obsessed with that kid.

Arthur: also she calls him “Papa” and it’s the cutest thing ever.

Charles: I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

Arthur: is it because you’re old now.

Charles: I AM GOING TO END YOU.

Grid Group Chat

Charles: OSCAR.

Charles: I NEED ANSWERS RIGHT NOW.

Oscar: …About?

Lando: What did you do now.

Carlos: This feels serious.

Charles: DO YOU HAVE A CHILD???

Pierre: Excuse me?????

George: What.

Alex: No way.

Lando: WHAT?!?!

Fernando: Interesting.

Lewis: Oscar?

Oscar: Yeah.

Lando: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YEAH????

Lando: THAT’S NOT A CASUAL QUESTION.

Lando: “YEAH” IS NOT AN ACCEPTABLE ANSWER.

Carlos: Wait, what.

Daniel: Oh my god.

Pierre: BACK UP.

Charles: HOW DOES ARTHUR KNOW BEFORE ME???

Oscar: He met her.

Lando: HE MET HER???

Pierre: SHE EXISTS IN A FORM THAT CAN BE MET???

George: OSCAR.

Max: Is everyone going to keep screaming?

Charles: OSCAR YOU HAVE A CHILD AND NEVER TOLD US???

Oscar: No one asked.

Lando: OH I’M SO SORRY, LET ME JUST RANDOMLY ASK EVERYONE ON THE GRID IF THEY SECRETLY HAVE CHILDREN.

Alex: Three years, mate. You’ve had a kid for three years and never said a word?

Oscar: Yeah.

Pierre: I am STUNNED.

George: STUNNED.

Lando: LIKE ACTUALLY YOU HAVE A THREE-YEAR-OLD HUMAN CHILD????

Oscar: Yes, Lando.

Lando: I need to sit down.

Charles: WHY HAVE YOU NEVER BROUGHT HER TO A RACE.

Oscar: Because I promised my wife I wouldn’t buy her a kart until she’s five, and if I bring her to a race, that’s all she’ll want for her birthday.

Carlos: …She’s already obsessed, isn’t she.

Oscar: Oh, completely.

Oscar: She watches onboards for fun.

Pierre: Onboards.

Lando: WHAT THREE-YEAR-OLD WATCHES ONBOARDS????

Oscar: Mine.

Logan:  Bee is kinda obsessed lol

Lando: BEE?!?! HER NAME IS BEE?!?

Oscar: Beatrice. But we call her Bee. 

Oscar: She also gives commentary.

George: Commentary.

Oscar: Yeah. She said George is a bit too careful, but she respects it.

George: …Tell her I appreciate that.

Oscar: She thinks Alex is underrated.

Alex: Smart girl.

Oscar: She says Max and Charles are the fastest.

Charles: Oh, she has taste.

Max: A future World Champion.

Lando: WHO DOES SHE THINK I AM THEN????

Oscar: She says you talk too much.

Lando: I AM BEING BULLIED BY A TODDLER.

Oscar: And she also doesn’t understand why you always “let” Max pass you.

Max: I like her.

Lando: THIS IS CHARACTER ASSASSINATION.

Charles: I need to meet this child.

Max: Me too.

Fernando: Same.

Lewis: When’s she coming to the paddock?

Oscar: She’s not, because if she meets Max and Charles in person, I will not hear the end of it.

Charles: Oh, we have to meet her.

Lando: NOT UNTIL I WIN HER OVER.

Lando: WHO DOES SHE SUPPORT????

Oscar: She’s three, Lando.

Lando: THAT DOESN’T ANSWER MY QUESTION.

Oscar: She says she supports “everyone.”

Max: That’s diplomatic.

Charles: No, that’s suspicious.

Charles: Who does she really support?

Oscar: …She says she supports whoever wins.

Pierre: OH SHE’S A GLORY HUNTER.

Carlos: NO LOYALTY.

Alex: A ruthless fan. I respect it.

Lando: I AM SUFFERING.

Oscar: She does like McLaren. She just thinks Ferrari is “prettier.”

Charles: YES.

Carlos: This child has taste.

Lando: I AM LOSING TO FERRARI ON VIBES ALONE????

Oscar: Sounds like it.

George: This is all well and good, but I need to know—what does she think about you, Oscar?

Oscar: …

Lando: OH MY GOD.

Daniel: OH THIS IS GONNA BE GOOD.

Oscar: She says I’m her favorite after Max and Charles.

Charles: YES.

Max: Acceptable.

Oscar: But she also says I have the best helmet.

Fernando: That’s a win.

Lando: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HAVE A WHOLE SECRET DAUGHTER WHO BULLIES ME FROM AFAR.

Oscar: She doesn’t bully you.

Oscar: She just doesn’t understand why you let Max pass you all the time.

Max: A wise child.

Lando: I HATE IT HERE.

Charles: I demand a meeting.

Max: Me too.

Pierre: We’re all uncles now.

Lando: NO. NOT UNTIL SHE ACCEPTS ME.

Oscar: Good luck with that. She also says you sound funny when you yell.

Lando: I’M GONNA CRY.

Lando: I NEED A SECOND CHANCE.

Lando: I CAN WIN HER OVER.

Max: She sounds very intelligent.

Charles: Yes. Clearly, she has excellent judgment.

Lando: STOP SUCKING UP TO HER, YOU’RE ALREADY HER FAVORITE.

Carlos: So what does she think about the other drivers?

Oscar: Do you really want to know?

Pierre: Oh absolutely.

Fernando: I am prepared.

Oscar: Okay.

Oscar: She thinks George sounds like Peppa Pig.

George: …

Lewis: Oh my god.

Alex: OH THIS IS PERFECT.

Lando: WE WILL NEVER LET THIS GO.

George: I AM LOSING TO A CARTOON PIG.

Oscar: She heard you on the TV and asked why Peppa was driving a car.

Pierre: No, you ARE a cartoon pig.

Alex: This is the best day of my life.

George: I hate all of you.

Oscar: Moving on…

Oscar: She thinks Fernando is the “oldest driver ever.”

Charles: At least she knows the history of the sport.

Fernando: I’m taking that as a compliment.

Oscar: She also says Yuki is small and should be allowed to stand on the seat so he can see better.

Yuki: I AM NOT THAT SHORT.

Pierre: SHE SPEAKS THE TRUTH.

Oscar: Oh, and she likes Lewis because she likes his earrings.

Lewis: That is the only valid reason to like me.

Oscar: She also thinks you’re the boss of everyone.

Lewis: That is also true.

Lando: PLEASE TELL ME SHE HAS A TERRIBLE OPINION ABOUT CHARLES OR MAX.

Oscar: She thinks Charles crashes too much but is “really, really fast.”

Max: Accurate.

Oscar: And she says Max is “really good, but scary.”

Max: I am scary.

Charles: No, you just race like a maniac.

Oscar: She also thinks you and Carlos are best friends because you wear the same color.

Carlos: I am okay with this.

Lando: WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LOSES HERE.

Oscar: Get better PR.

Oscar: She likes Daniel because she says his voice sounds happy.

Daniel: SHE IS SO REAL FOR THAT.

Charles: So she wants to race??

Oscar: Oh yeah. She watches all the onboards. She says the Red Bull looks "like a rocket ship," and McLaren is "super fast now," but Ferrari is "a little bit broken."

Carlos: You HAVE to bring her to a race.

Lando: Okay but actually. Do you think she’ll do karting?

Oscar: Yeah. Probably.

Oscar: She already yells “Lights out and away we go” when she runs down the hallway.

Fernando: Oh, she’s one of us.

Lando: She’s already got the spirit.

George: Unlike Lando.

Lando: I AM GOING TO FIGHT YOU.

Max: No, because you’ll lose.

Lando: I’M STILL PROCESSING. OSCAR HAS A WHOLE CHILD. A CHILD WHO GIVES HIM PERFORMANCE REVIEWS.

Oscar: Yeah, she told me my race suit is “not very pretty.”

Charles: What does she think of Max’s?

Oscar: “It’s blue. That’s okay.” She likes yours more, because Red is good. 

Charles: She has excellent taste.

Oscar: She also said, “You should win more too.”

Lando: Has she ever said that to Max?

Oscar: No, because she thinks he already wins enough.

Max: Wise.

George: What does she think about Mercedes?

Oscar: She likes the silver one better than the black one because “it’s shinier.”

Lewis: Fair.

Oscar: But she said, “It’s not as pretty as red.”

Oscar: She also thinks all our helmets should have “more animals and less boring stuff.”

Lando: SHE IS THE FUTURE OF THIS SPORT.

Oscar: Then she told me, “You need a koala on yours.”

Alex: That’s fair.

Lando: OKAY BUT DOES SHE HAVE ANY RACE STRATEGY OPINIONS.

Oscar: Of course.

Charles: Please share.

Oscar: The other day, I was watching a race replay, and she climbed onto the couch next to me, stared at the screen, and went, “Why are you still on those tires?”

Carlos: HAHAHA.

Oscar: And I said, “Because we haven’t pitted yet,” and she just shook her head and went, “That’s silly. You should get new ones now.”

Lando: SHE’S SO SMART.

Pierre: Does she understand tire compounds?

Oscar: She knows soft tires are fast, medium tires are okay, and hard tires are “boring and ugly.”

Charles: Honestly, she gets it.

Lando: NO BUT ACTUALLY DOES SHE HAVE THOUGHTS ON DRS.

Oscar: Oh, yeah. She calls it the “flappy thing.”

Pierre: I love her.

Oscar: She saw an onboard where I opened it, and she just went, “Oooooh, flappy thing makes you go fast.”

Max: I mean, she’s right.

Alex: Does she like overtakes?

Oscar: Yeah, but she only gets really excited when I do them. Otherwise, she just watches quietly and then claps if it looks cool.

Charles: Does she cheer for anyone else?

Oscar: One time, she saw you make a double overtake and went, “Ohhhhh, I like him.”

Carlos: Betrayal.

Oscar: She likes you too, don’t worry. But I think she just thought that move was cool.

Carlos: I suppose I will allow it.

George: Oscar, have you explained to her why Lando hasn’t won yet?

Oscar: Not really. I just told her, “It’s really hard to win in F1,” and she thought about it for a second and went, “Not for Max.”

Max: HAHAHA.

Charles: She is actually too smart.

Lando: I AM BEING DRAGGED BY A TODDLER WHO DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HER OWN LAST NAME YET.

Oscar: She does know her last name, actually.

Lando: GOOD FOR HER. I’M STILL SUFFERING.

Carlos: Has she asked why you haven’t won a race either, Oscar?

Oscar: No.

Pierre: WHY NOT??

Oscar: I think she assumes I’m too busy taking care of her.

George: Honestly, fair.

Lando: I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE A DAD.

Oscar: Believe it.

Lando: I CAN’T. AND NOW I’M GOING TO HAVE AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS BECAUSE YOUR TINY CHILD THINKS I’M BAD AT MY JOB.

Oscar: She didn’t say you were bad. Just that you haven’t won yet.

Lando: SAME THING.

Oscar: It’s okay, Lando. I’ll tell her you’re trying your best.

Lando: STOPPIT.

Lando: NO ACTUALLY I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS. WHAT ELSE HAS SHE SAID.

Oscar: What do you mean?

Lando: I MEAN ABOUT F1. ABOUT ME. ABOUT YOU. ABOUT ANYTHING. I NEED TO KNOW HOW BADLY A THREE-YEAR-OLD HAS DRAGGED ME BEHIND THE VIRTUAL SAFETY CAR.

Oscar: Well, she’s got a lot of opinions.

Charles: What kind of opinions?

Oscar: She has told me she doesn’t like safety cars because they’re “boring,” and that red flags are annoying because she has to wait.

Max: I respect it.

Oscar: But she does like when there’s a big crash because she gets to say, “Uh oh!”

Lando: NO BECAUSE IMAGINE YOU BIN IT AND YOU HEAR A TINY LITTLE “UH OH” OVER THE RADIO.

Max: I would retire.

Oscar: She also said if I ever win a race, she wants to do the shoey with me.

Lando: THAT’S HORRIBLE. DON’T LET HER DO THAT.

Oscar: Felicity already said no.

Lando: Good. I’m still recovering from the fact that you have a whole wife and a daughter.

Oscar: You’ll be fine.

Lando: WILL I.

Oscar: No.

Lando: GREAT.

Lando: I’M NOT OVER IT.

Carlos: We know.

Lando: YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER.

Oscar: I do.

Lando: A WHOLE DAUGHTER.

Oscar: That is usually how it works.

Lando: YOU NEVER TOLD ME.

Oscar: You never asked.

Lando: WHO ASKS, “HEY, DO YOU SECRETLY HAVE A WHOLE TODDLER?”

Charles: I might start.

Lando: I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS.

Oscar: It’s not that big of a deal.

Lando: NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL???

Oscar: She’s just a tiny person.

Lando: A TINY PERSON WHO WATCHES F1 AND HAS OPINIONS.

Oscar: Correct.

Lando: I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS.

Pierre: Bro, breathe.

Lando: NO.

[bloomries]

yeah so my husband— my husband?!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. mention of marriage. suggestive (in asmodeus'). the word 'husband' will begin to look strange bc it's used so much, apologies.

LUCIFER

You just meant for it to be a harmless little prank, something to tease Lucifer with later when you two were alone, perhaps gauge his reaction to the idea, but after you said 'yeah, so my husband...' Diavolo's eyes grew as wide as the moon and you instantly regretted your prank idea.

Diavolo clasped a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, beaming. "You finally asked!" This statement went over your head as you tried to quickly take back your words, Lucifer's blanched face making it clear he'll definitely be scolding you later. "But it seems I missed the wedding? Oh well, I'll just host you another wedding so I can see it for myself!"

"Ah, L- Lord Diavolo..." Lucifer sends you a glare as you smile sheepishly. "We aren't- I haven't-"

"How do you both feel about a chocolate fountain?" Diavolo is already off in his own little world, imagining how he'll plan out your wedding. Lucifer decides he'll inform Barbatos of the prank, and have Barbatos deal with it- Lucifer already has his hands full with you. He pulls you aside as Diavolo talks to himself.

"Do you see what you've done?"

"Sorry..." You fake pout, batting your lashes up at him. "My darling husband will surely fix it though, right?" Oh, how can he stay mad when he truly likes the title so much. Perhaps this will make asking you to marry him easier? You surely seem to enjoy the title just as much.

MAMMON

Mammon is always trying to listen in on your phone calls, he's nosy and likes to know all the gossip. Today in particular though, he's trying extra hard to hear, clinging to you and making you unable to do other tasks whilst on your call.

Deciding to tease him a little, in hopes of getting him off of you, you sigh dramatically into the receiver. "I'm sorry, my husband needs my attention, one second."

And when you look down at him, his eyes are wide and shiny, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Him? Were you talking about him? He's your husband? A giant grin takes over his features and it seems your little prank has the opposite effect you wanted, as he takes the phone from you.

"Yeah, sorry, their husband- that's me!- needs 'em!" He boasts proudly before hanging up the call and clutching on to you tighter, burying his face into your side, his grin not changing in the slightest.

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. "Rude, I was trying to talk to someone, you know." Mammon shrugs, not a care in the world.

"'m your husband, I take priority."

"You know you're not officially my husband yet, right?" Shit, you're right. Well, that'll change soon, don't you worry one bit! Mammon knows how to take a hint, and there'll be a ring on that finger soon enough!

LEVIATHAN

You and Levi were playing an online game, chat on full blast, when you decide to tease him- because it's just so fun to see his flustered expression, and you have an inkling that this'll give him some motivation for the game. "Ah, hubby, can you help me with these guys!"

"H- Hubby!?" Leviathan's neck nearly breaks from how quickly he snaps to look over at you, you seem unphased though by the phrase- as if it came so naturally. His heart skips a beat, his grip on the controller tightening. "W- Where are you, I'll come help!"

His gaming friends are all blowing up the chat box, some getting on voice chat just to ask what that meant- 'was Levi actually married?,' 'He was a husband?,' 'Since when!?,' 'Congratulations!,' etc.

Levi would have gotten more flustered, had he been paying any attention to said friends, but he's much more focused on proving he'd make an excellent spouse by rushing to where you were in the map and one-shotting all the enemies that surrounded you.

The battle is quickly won thanks to Levi, who puffs out his chest with pride. You lean over from your gaming station adjacent of his, and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, hubby~" His cheeks grow a rosy pink, and he pulls his headphones off to give you a serious look.

"Let's get married."

SATAN

"Oh husband~" You call, "Can you help me get this book? I can't reach!" Satan peaks his head from around the corner to give you a questioning look. Who were you calling husband? He watches you struggle, leaning his frame against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't remember proposing." Satan watches as you deflates from his lack of reaction to your prank. He sighs, walking over to you and helping you reach the book, tapping it on your head lightly before handing it over to you.

"You're no fun, you know that?"

Satan has a feeling this was definitely set up by one of his brothers, and he'll definitely be getting his revenge on them for making you do this (and for making his heart hammer against his ribcage uncontrollably). Still, he hates to see you upset in the least, so he lifts your chin with his finger and thumb and sends you that smile that sends shivers down your spine.

"Don't be upset, you'll get to call me husband soon, okay?"

And he truly did mean that, he already had a ring, which sat heavy in his pocket. He just wanted to make sure you had the most perfect proposal, something straight out of a romance novel- because that's what you deserve. Soon, soon you'll be able to lovingly call him 'husband' whenever you wish.

ASMODEUS

Asmo is live-streaming again, doing a little grwm-type video, with you off to the side/in the background. As he begins to do his skin care, he asks for you to take over and chat for a little while for him, so you peak your head into view and wave at his viewers.

"Hello everyone!" You smile, glancing back at Asmo who's behind you in the bathroom, doing his skincare. "My lovely husband is doing his skincare right now, it usually takes him about ten to fifteen minutes to complete it." You say, however you can see his head pop-up from the sink and he whips around to look at you.

"Husband?" He calls, and when you nod, confirming your words, he grins. "Oh my, is this a proposal?" He asks with a teasing lilt, and you joking go along with his words, nodding before reenacting the famous getting-down-on-one-knee. You open your hands as if you had a ring box, presenting it to him. He holds his hand out to you, "I do~" You pretend to slip a ring on to his finger and he admires the imaginary ring before leaning down to kiss you.

"Now," He pulls away, wiggling his brows. "Shall we get started on the honeymoon part?"

"Asmo, that's typically after the weddi-" Asmo reaches for his phone, waving and saying a little 'byeeee' to his followers as he ends the livestream with a giggle, throwing you a lil' mischievous smile.

"No harm in starting earlier, right?" And despite only being halfway through his skincare, and this not being a real proposal, the honeymoon was very nice indeed- he can't wait for the real one though.

BEELZEBUB

You had seen the trend, and wondered how Beelzebub would react. So, under the guise of trying some new food and giving it a review, you set up your camera and begin filming. "Hey everyone, me and my husband are going to be rating food from the new McDevil menu~"

Beel doesn't react at all, and you send him a quick glance before trying again- perhaps he didn't hear you? "I think the Sin-Fries are a solid 7/10, what about you, husband?" But again, he doesn't react to the word at all, instead giving his own rating for the new fries.

Is he really not realizing what you're saying? You decide to try one last time. "My husbands food always looks better than mine," You whine, peaking over at him to see his reaction, only to see him offering you a bite of his burger. You sigh, giving up and deciding to just enjoy your food. You take a bite of his burger, offering him some of yours. The review ends swiftly, and you turn off the camera.

As you two clean up from eating, you notice Beelzebub quieter than usual. You're about to ask him if everything is okay, his face becoming flushed, when he speaks up.

"Soon, okay?" You blink a few times, confused by his words. He bashfully looks up at you, and that's when you realize what he's talking about- marriage, he plans on proposing to you soon. Your own cheeks now grow unbearably warm. "I promise."

Your prank definitely backfired, as now you're the one trying to calm your racing heart (although Beelzebub is definitely just as flustered). Still, you're holding him accountable to his promise- soon.

BELPHEGOR

You're not sure how this little prank managed to get turned against you, but Belphegor has made it so that you're now his personal pillow- again.

"I'm just saying, if I'm you're husband, then that means you should let me use you as a pillow whenever I want." You open your mouth to retaliate, but he beats you to it, batting his lashes up at you. "Don't you want your husband to be comfortable?"

"I..." You falter. You regret deciding to call him your 'husband~' to try and get him to help you with chores. You thought maybe it'd motivate him, or maybe you'd just get to see his cute blushing face, instead you're suffering.

"Come on now, don't be shy~" He wiggles about, trying to grab you to pull you towards him, but he doesn't really exert enough energy to be successful. "Ugh, why... do you... do this... to me- to your darling husband!"

"You're anything but darling." You say, crossing your arms over your chest. "Last time I call you 'husband' or any term of endearment, I swear..." You grumble, turning on your heels to leave, disappointed your prank didn't work.

Belphegor grins, snuggling up to his pillow as he watches you leave. "That's what you think," he mumbles to himself, yawning, "when I finally get that ring on your finger, I'll have ya calling me husband again, just you wait~" He snickers, and a cold chill runs down your spine. You glance back to see him asleep, although you feel as if he's planning something- and you weren't sticking around to find out what!

[anisespice]

Hey girl got a request,so like let’s say bonten is having a meeting with a new criminal organization gang that came in to come up with a deal,and while we are just sitting in the back looking at our new sparkly items Koko bought us,and the new criminal organization gang calls us out saying it’s disrespectful and rude calling us names..And bonten doesn’t like that one bit..So yeah I want them to react to that

hope it makes sense 😔😍🤺🤺

SAVE ME FROM MY WRITER'S BLOCK, ANON - HERE WE GO, NO MARIO. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting~!

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, misogynistic undertones (from another gang), implied violence, guns mentioned, reader is criminally oblivious (love that for her), guard-dog!bonten supremacy, sanzu gets his own warning lol and i think that's it.

notes: yall. can you believe i actually wrote this in one sitting? without stopping?? wild concept for me, haven't been able to do that in a good minute *knock on wood*, but i hope you enjoy! more stuff coming soon ♡

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

Upon the arrival of the recently developed organization, officially known as Kaiju, things already weren’t off to a great start. They were late, clocked at about twenty minutes past schedule. Excuses poured from them like a broken faucet, blaming their tardiness on traffic, which the members were willing to give the benefit of the doubt, some more than others. Then, they were unprepared. Scrambling about with their half-assed introduction mixed with a sloppily thrown together presentation, it was insulting at worst. 

Here they were, biggest in the game, offering an opportunity to help underground operatives make a name for themselves..and this is how they want to showcase their potential? Mikey waved it off when his number three voiced this flaw, merely chalking it up with inexperience–Everyone has to start somewhere, right? 

But. Finally came strike three. The one thing, the most damning thing they could’ve ever done to have mercy jump right out the window and straight to hell, was when one of their foolish members spoke ill of you. 

It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment. 

All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.

And it was going to stay that way. 

By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~” 

“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms. 

Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received. 

Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–

Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?” 

“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran. 

“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?” 

“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.” 

“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager. 

The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.” 

Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.

Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.

“Oh, is the meeting over already?” 

Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.” 

You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.” 

“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[klemen-tine]

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 

Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  

Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 

Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 

“I’m sorry Richard.” 

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 

“Bruce please.” 

“I am busy.” 

“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 

“Honey, are you happy?” 

“Of course Mama.” 

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 

“Is that so?” 

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 

“And the kids?” 

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 

It's good to see some of that coming back. 

Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 

“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 

Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.” 

“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 

Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 

“Fucking hell.” 

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 

 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 

“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 

He knows this. She knows this. 

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 

Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 

So, of course they have had sex. 

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 

Batman was never Prince Charming.

_________________________________________________________

Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

[taesanrot]

[fruit punch] taesan x f!reader | 11.4k words enemies to lovers, also idiots to lovers, college au, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, smut (making out, fingering f. receiving, handjobs, vaginal sex, protected sex, oral sex), dom!taesan if you squint, y/n is lowkey evil sometimes, they're both just confused and dumb note. ty to the anon for sending this request! i had sm fun writing this~~ sorry it took so long i started uni again and lost all of my free time. hope everyone enjoys broody and grumpy taesan hehe. @onedoornet :P

taesan swears he can feel his blood pumping in his ears every time he sees you. he's come to loathe the feeling, the way his stomach flips and twitches when he hears your voice. his senses heighten and his vision tunnels on you, as if a curtain has been draped over everyone and everything else. his whole body is attuned to you, like he's your fucking puppet.

it's sick, he hates how much he unconsciously worships you. he's reminded of it every time he hears your voice around the corner or your name in conversations.

the reason he despises his affinity for you is because he knows you don't feel the same -- he's almost certain he doesn't even occupy a sliver of your mind.

he knows you're lively and expressive in conversation, at least that's what he's heard. every time he come around and joins conversation with your mutual friends, you suddenly have no words left on your tongue and no thoughts left in your mind. taesan can probably count the amount of times you've spoken to him directly on one hand.

taesan doesn't know what he's done, or what he's doing to put you off of him, but he's been done with your little hate boner against him for a while now. no matter how stuffy his lungs get or how tight his pants get when you seep into his vision or his mind, taesan couldn't care less, not anymore. he rolls his eyes and spins on a heel when he sees you or hears your pretty voice; or he sighs and falls face first onto his pillow when you creep in his solitary thoughts.

he feels like your fucking dog, drooling and falling over you while you can't even look him in the eye.

taesan would say he has a strong resolve and sense of self, and it disgusts him to no end how you weaken and crumble his walls with a simple half-smile, all while ignoring him entirely like he's gum on your shoes.

on top of everything, he had the unfortunate experience of witnessing you verbally confirm your distaste for the boy.

taesan was sifting through the library's aisles, looking for a book to use for his music theory paper. around the corner, you happened to be sitting at one of the study tables, chatting with your friends carelessly, not realizing the topic of your conversation was standing less than 10 feet away.

it wasn't the boy's intent to eavesdrop, but he was in earshot and couldn't escape your conversation if he wanted to. and he wished he did, after hearing the next words that came out of you and your friends mouths.

"formal's coming up soon, who are you taking, y/n?"

"ugh, i don't know who to ask." to his dismay, his ears perked at the sound of your voice.

"what about taesan?" the boy tensed at the sound of his name rolling off your friend, giselle's, tongue. the giggle that left her mouth after made his stomach twist and jolt.

"are you crazy? jesus, giselle. no way!" taesan felt his already bruised heart drop to his ass. you sounded appalled, and your tone only rubbed salt on the boy's already open wound.

there wasn't much left to hear, taesan wasn't keen on sticking around to listen to you guys keep talking shit about him. he spun on his heel and left the library as fast as he could without running. his paper would just have to wait a few hours.

it was a sour memory that made him wince, and it was a scene that he replayed in his head every time he felt his heart race around you.

today was no exception, as taesan walked into the lobby of his apartment complex -- which is unfortunately the same complex that you lived in -- he caught a glance of you in his peripheral, you were studying with friends in one of the lobby's booths, smiling like your usual joyous self. not that taesan would even know; your bubbly side isn't something he's familiar with in the slightest.

once again, to his dismay, the boy felt his heart jolt in his ribcage, the solid thumping a bit more noticeable than before. and like a routine that was ingrained in him, he quelled his outburst of excitement before it could fully bubble to the surface.

forget it, she hates you.

turning his attention to his phone, taesan lazily walked over to the mailroom to pick up a package he ordered a while ago. he then made his way over to the elevator, still paying no mind to his surroundings, scrolling through his friends' recent text messages and posts on instagram. it wasn’t until the elevator doors opened, he walked in, and punched his floor's button that he looked away from his phone; he opted to stare at his shoe instead, back slumping against the wall behind him.

the elevator doors started closing before they suddenly halted and reopened. taesan heard heavy breathing, like someone was running to catch the doors. when his gaze shifted upward curiously, he felt his entire being tense, fingers suddenly digging into the sides of the cardboard box he was holding.

it was you; your hair was fluttering around your face and your backpack was hanging haphazardly off one shoulder, still half unzipped. your cheeks were red and flushed from your hasty entrance and your lips were parted slightly, drawing in soft breaths as your eyes locked with his.

taesan was horrified, and he gave you a quick nod of acknowledgement to avoid having to speak to you. he hoped to god his disdain didn't show across his face -- he was barely confident that he even managed to nod without his neck twitching. in the time it took him to blink, you slipped into the elevator and were now standing 3 feet to his left.

suddenly, it was as if the ceiling of the elevator was the most interesting thing the boy had ever seen, and taesan stared at the patterns in the ceiling tile like his life depended on it, trying to pretend he didn't want to bash his own head in against the wall.

he heard a small beep, likely from you pressing the button for your floor. taesan wouldn't know that for sure though, he was staring so hard in any direction that wasn't yours. he would genuinely rather the floor open up and swallow him whole than glance to his left and be reminded that the girl of his dreams and nightmares was in such close proximity to him.

taesan couldn't tell you how long he's wanted you even if he tried. sometimes he thinks that if the circumstances weren’t so dire between the two of you, that you might be his soulmate.

deep down, it saddened taesan to no end to be in this predicament. here you were, right in front of him with no one else around, and he was frozen like a deer in headlights. taesan wished so dearly that things could be different between the two of you, so that in a moment like this, he could reach out and actually talk to you, get to know you, hold you, rather than cowering in the corner.

and as if some all knowing force heard his thoughts, the elevator suddenly jolted to a stop. taesan didn't even notice until he heard you speak.

"what the fuck?" snapping out of his mental tirade, taesan looked up at the dial above the buttons.

great, it's in between floors. we're fucked.

taesan decided it was time to grow a fucking pair and speak to you for the first time in probably two years.

"we should call emergency services." he wished there was any way for those words to come out his mouth less stupidly. he still hadn't turned to look at you, setting his package and his backpack on the floor and stepping forward to hit the emergency call button.

unceremoniously, the button lit up, followed by absolutely nothing else. sighing, taesan finally turned to look at you. your cheeks were flushed and you looked fearful, taesan wasn't sure if it was because of the elevator or just being stuck with him. if it was the latter he think he might actually just kill himself.

"the line might be busy, i think we're gonna be here for a minute." he sighed out, and your eyes softened.

"it's okay, there's nothing else we can do i guess." you finally spoke, and taesan felt like the sun was beaming directly on him. your attention on him like a spotlight, he felt like he could finally die happy.

"yeah." taesan's lip curled up into a half smile that made your cheeks grow redder, and you watched, still frozen, as he went to sit on the floor next to his stuff. as taesan settled himself into the small corner, crossing his legs, you took it as your cue to place your stuff next to you, sinking down to the floor in defeat.

taesan couldn't say he wasn't confused by you in this moment. for someone stuck in an elevator with someone they avoid like the plague and hate more than anything, you sure did blush a lot. so much, that taesan was starting to think it was his brain messing with him, and that your cheeks weren't truly as flushed and reddened as they looked.

do people blush around people they hate? better yet, am i just fucking delusional? the thoughts ran laps around his brain, making him want to bang his head against the silver elevator doors.

the boy decided that he probably had better and more concerning things to pay his attention to right now, like quelling his increasingly fast heartbeat and his rapid breaths. his heart was beating so loud he thought he can hear the sound reverberating and bouncing on the walls of the small elevator, a space that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller by the minute.

his hands were clammy and shiny and he hoped you didn't notice as he tried to discreetly wipe them against his pants when he reached for his phone from his back pocket.

"i'm gonna call my friend and see if he can get ahold of the front desk." you nodded in agreement, and listened quietly as the line rings.

before either of you could even begin to get your hopes up, the line cut, and a message displayed across the top of taesan's phone screen.

call failed. taesan cursed under his breath.

"fuck, i don't think i have any service in here. sorry." taesan didn't know why he apologized, it's not like he has any control over the building's spotty reception. he didn't look at you as he speaks.

gaze focused on the ground, the boy didn't expect to hear your soft voice chime in the air.

"it's okay, we can just wait it out, we don't have any other choice anyway." you finished your sentence off with a soft giggle. pink blush was still creeping up your neck and tinting your face softly.

accepting his fate of being stuck in the elevator, taesan decided he should at least make use of his time. reaching into his backpack, he grabbed his laptop and a pair of wired earbuds, opening up his current project for his composition class.

he kept one earbud in his left ear, while the other dangled in midair. as the beats played in his ear and reverberated through his skull, taesan finally felt a bit at peace, attention tunnelling in on his laptop screen.

what he didn't notice is the way you curiously watch him work. he typed away at his laptop and mouse pad softly and his focused expression and the unfamiliar contents on his screen piqued your interest.

but what piqued your interest more was taesan. his fluffy hair that moves with him as he nods along to the music that you can't hear, the way his face scrunches up cutely when he squints at the screen to read the tiny font, the way his pink lips fall into a small pout amidst his concentration.

what started out as short side glances that you snuck in from time to time turns into full on staring. being this close to him, your gaze was pulled to him like paper clips to a magnet.

contrary to taesan's belief, you do not hate taesan. while your friends do tease you about him, it's not because you have some weird secret hate boner for him.

in reality, it's because you literally cannot think straight around the raven haired boy. it's embarrassing how quickly your cheeks heat up at a single sight of taesan, heart pumping so fast you think you're going to give yourself an arrhythmia.

you’ve never been the shy type. not that you were constantly bouncing off the walls or anything, but you’ve always thought of yourself as being sociable and having a big personality. you’ve never shied away from strangers and new experiences, feeding off of the energy from the conversation and laughter you elicit through witty jokes and quips.

that alone makes your yearning all the more pathetic. y/n, the girl who could make exciting conversation in a room full of introverted bookworms, getting sweaty palms over some random music major?

it's a feeling you couldn't bear, which is why you avoided it at all costs, especially around your friends. you've also learned the hard way that your friends will not let you hear the end of it when they witness the way you melt around the boy, and you quite enjoy not having to talk about your affinity for taesan 24/7. that's the reason you haven't spoken to him either, you don't even want to begin to imagine your friends' reaction to that.

after a particular incident where belle and shinyu were teasing you about taesan and kim leehan walked by, you were so spooked that you decided the only solution was simply avoid or ignore him at all costs. you could not risk your blabber mouthed friends revealing the fact that you like taesan, especially since you had no idea if he liked you back, or even remembered your name, for that matter.

plus, it helped you avoid the embarrassing experience of going completely nonverbal.

you'd been telling yourself that you'd make a move at some point, but the mere thought of trying to progress things any further makes your stomach twist on itself and makes your chest start to constrict.

but now, with the boy sitting an arms length away and no one else around, you felt like it was fate. yes, there were definitely assignments waiting for you to get around to, but right now you couldn't be more thankful that the elevator is broken.

after staring at taesan and hyping yourself up for a solid 20 minutes, you decided that you can't pass up this chance.

"what are you working on?" your voice was so soft and shaky at first that taesan almost didn't hear you, but you knew he did based on the fact that his fingers halted their swift typing. you watched him move to pause the stream of audio in his ear.

"me?" taesan replied. the second the words leave his lips he regretted it. who the fuck asks that in a room with only two people?

apparently my dumbass.

"who else?" you didn't seem to mind though, giggling at his aloofness. his eyes were wide like a deer caught in headlights, and you wanted to reach over and tug at his hair to feel it underneath your fingertips.

"oh um, just a project for my comp class." he responded, suddenly feeling shy. he felt the familiar speeding of his heartbeat again. why were you suddenly feeling conversive? was he hallucinating again?

"can i see?" you scooted over slightly and lean towards him, pretending to look at his laptop screen. truly, you just wanted to be closer to him, and to keep hearing his voice. you had no idea what he even meant by "comp," but you'd gladly let him ramble about his work if it meant you could hear his low voice again.

"oh, uh sure!" taesan moved slightly closer to you, turning his laptop in your direction so you could see his screen. you knew nothing about the program he's using, but the way taesan's eyes lit up as he began to explain the different sections of the screen made your heart swell.

contrary to you, taesan is more on the quieter side, opting to listen in conversations rather than lead them. however, when it comes to his music, taesan thinks he could ramble on about it for hours. the excitement of talking about his work calmed his nerves, and he found himself eagerly explaining all the different components of his project without stuttering or fumbling with his words.

you nodded along, in a trance at the sound of his voice filling your ears so pleasantly. it got even worse when you looked away from his screen to look at his face. his hands moved animatedly as he pointed at various sections of his composition, but you didn't catch a word, staring at the slope of his nose and the way his lips stayed in a cute little pout even when he was talking so much.

at one point, taesan asked you a question, noticing your slightly dazed look. your head shook slightly as you regained focus on his voice, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

"sorry, what did you say?" you tried to keep your composure but the way taesan was looking at you was driving you insane.

"nevermind, do you wanna just listen to it?" he said with an easy smile, chuckling at your flushed appearance. you were so adorable, he didn't think he could take it. grabbing the free earbud, he offered it to you gently. you slowly grabbed it, scooching even closer to taesan so the two of you could listen to it together. placing the earbud in your ear, you tried not to think about the space, or lack thereof, between the two of you.

your thigh was pressed against taesan's and the faint smell of his cologne was dizzying. you wanted nothing more than to grab his hand that was resting on the laptop's keyboard and intertwine your fingers together.

as taesan hit play, the sound of various instrumentals and beats filled your ears. even though there were no lyrics, you felt the emotion that taesan had drawn out of him to put into this. he was more than talented, and you were in awe of how well everything came together. as the track came to an end, taesan looked at your face, curious. your lips were parted slightly as you looked at him.

"taesan, that was amazing." you breathed out, turning your face slightly toward him excitedly.

"really? it's still a little rough around the edges, but i think i wanna keep working on it after i turn it in." he explained.

"the project only requires an instrumental, but i really like how this track is going, i've been thinking of adding lyrics and making it a proper song."

"you should, it's really really good." you spoke with a low voice, facing taesan, you were once again reminded of his close proximity and your brain was starting to short circuit again. looking into his eyes, you found yourself spiraling deeper and deeper, not wanting the moment to end. helplessly, your eyes darted down at his lips quickly, so quick that taesan almost missed it.

after watching your gaze jump down to his mouth a third time, taesan decided enough was enough.

“y/n.” he said your name in chillingly low voice. the sound of it rolling off his tongue sent shivers down your spine, and you only leaned into him further. reaching out, he brought his hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, waiting for your reaction. you looked up at him with a hooded gaze as you delicately leaned into his touch.

as his hand fully cupped your cheek, your eyes slipped shut, head tilting further into his palm as you waited for him to close the gap.

taesan wanted to burn the sight of you into his memory forever. your long lashes laid gently on the apples of your reddened cheeks, your pink tinted lips slightly parted and calling for him. your cheek squished slightly against his hand and the softness of your skin against his made him feel like he was dreaming.

as he shut his eyes and leaned in, hovering his lips gently over yours, a loud creaking noise abruptly cut through the air.

the elevator suddenly thrummed to life, causing your eyes to shoot open. you let out a yelp as elevator dinged and the doors suddenly opened, your body practically flying across the small room. 

the two of you looked up to see two firemen looking down at the two of you confusedly.

"everyone ok in here?" one of the men asked gruffly, and you nodded your head hurriedly before grabbing your stuff and jumping to your feet.

yep, that was about enough bravery and ambition from you today. reality was setting in quicker than the reddening of your cheeks. 

you and han taesan were about to kiss. and got interrupted by the fucking fire rescue squad. you had to get the fuck out of here.

taesan could barely blink before you rushed out of the confined space, cheeks bright red as you muttered a quick thank you to the firemen.

hitting his head against the back of the wall in frustration, taesan tossed his laptop into his bag and grabbed his package, standing up and frowning at the firemen before walking past them.

"what the fuck was his deal?" the other firemen asked once taesan was out of earshot.

...

it had been a few days since the elevator incident, and while all taesan wanted to do was scream into his pillow while blasting his radiohead playlist on repeat, he was unfortunately a university student with work to do. life goes on, to his dismay.

the only person taesan told what happened was his roommate, kim leehan, who taesan begrudgingly complained to after being asked why his face was so red and why he was grumbling so much. he couldn’t help his grumpiness, could you blame him? he almost kissed the girl of his dreams and was interrupted by a fucking firefighter. 

leehan tried (as he claims, taesan doesn’t believe it for one second) and failed to hold in his laughter at taesan’s conundrum, holding a hand over his mouth as his shoulders shook with amusement. meanwhile, taesan was crashing the absolute fuck out, head in his hands while he crouched on the floor. 

“who did i murder in my last life seriously …” he whined into his hands pathetically as leehan shook his head in disbelief, still biting back his laughter. 

“i dunno, but someone’s having a fantastic time fucking with you.” leehan’s amused reply only egged taesan’s grumpiness and despair on further, and he laid in bed for the rest of the afternoon replaying the scene in his mind.

the more times he re-remembered the catastrophic chain of events, the more anguished he became. he’s definitely sighed at least 30 times in the past hour.

you were fucking with him. there was no other explanation. ignoring him constantly and then jumping him the second the two of you were alone? 

maybe you were a sadist, and you and that one friend from the library were currently laughing and joking about the raven haired boy’s demise. 

unfortunately, the thought turns him on more than anything, and he can feel himself getting a hard on thinking about the completely hypothetical situation he’s making up in his scattered mind.

he sighed angrily and slapped his hand against his cold cheek. he was so done with this. with you.

the devil on his shoulder laughed as he vowed to get over you. granted, he had a better chance of winning the lottery then forgetting about you at his will, but he felt like he had no other choice.

as humorous as the situation was, taesan felt his heart ache and his face crumple when he remembered the way you rushed out of the space as the door opened. like he was poison. 

taesan hated the ugly green feeling that was swirling in his gut, eating away at his sanity. he hated that it had to be you making him feel this way. you’ve always been the one who makes him get like this. 

but at the same time, he can’t forget how entranced he was, like a magnetic force pulled his hand to your cheek.

the vision of you, eyes closed, cheeks red, waiting for you to place his lips on yours, is permanently seared in his mind. 

how does someone just fake that? you’re either satan’s reincarnation or taesan is seriously missing something.

taesan clutches his chest in agony, the internal tug of war making him want to throw himself out his bedroom window.

after letting himself toss and turn in despair for about 2 hours, taesan drearily got out of bed to finish his music theory paper. sliding into his desk chair, he opened up his laptop to see his comp project still open, the very one he’d played for you hours earlier. 

he sighed again. the university and its students were going to be the death of him.

...

while taesan was moping in bed, you were taking up space in yours as well, laying across it face down while giselle sat at your desk, scrolling through her phone.

she could tell something is up, considering the fact that you’re not talking her fucking ears off and just laying face down in silence like a corpse.

“so, are you gonna fess up? what happened?” giselle asked, unamused. after bursting into your apartment following the Great Elevator Escape, your frantically doom-texted giselle, leading to her showing up at your front door.

you’ve been laying on your bed trying to not scream out of excitement as you told her. hearing her clear her throat, you finally rolled over so your voice wouldn’t be muffled.

“we almost kissed, aeri.” you sighed out, slapping your hands over your face.

“we? who is we?” giselle, who was evidently not a mind reader, tilted her head in confusion, moving to sit on the bed next to you, laying her legs over yours.

“me and taesan” you mumbled, watching through a crack of space between your fingers as she immediately shot up from her slumped position against yours headboard. you could’ve sworn you got whiplash just from watching her. 

“WHAT?” her voice squealed in excitement, nearly blowing out your eardrum. you laughed, glad that someone else understood how bubbly and happy you felt. 

“I KNOW” you screamed back, grabbing her hand and squeezing it as you smiled so big you thought your face was going to break.

“wait, explain everything now, you sly bitch!” with that, you walked her through the whole scene. 

reciting it to your friend made your stomach flip, all the emotions from the moment coming back to you. absentmindedly, your brought a hand up to feel the stop on your cheek where taesan’s palm pressed into you, smiling dazedly.

“you’re so down, y/n, this is crazy!” aeri laughed at your lovesick state, giving you a playful shove. she wasn't wrong, and the acknowledgment only made your cheeks burn even more.

“shut up! can a girl not yearn for her man anymore?” you smiled giddily.

“usually i’d call you delusional but he actually wants you so bad.” you moved to sit up, turning to her excitedly.

smiling wickedly, you looked at your friend with a plan. there was no going back now, taesan wanted you without question.

“what’s that look? are we plotting?” giselle asked curiously after a beat of silence.

“you know me so well, aeri.” you pulled out your phone to text the your friends' groupchat, filling them in as you and giselle discussed further.

the feeling of his lips ghosting over yours was fresh in your mind. bringing a finger to your bottom lip, you felt warmth bloom in your chest at the memory. 

han taesan had no idea what was coming for him.

...

“hello? earth to y/n.” shinyu shook your shoulder as myungjae called to you across the table, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” jaehyun rolled his eyes at you.

“i’m throwing friday night, you coming?” you smiled in excitement, making eye contact with giselle, who had the same mischievous glint in her eye.

yeah, the two of your were thinking the exact same thing.

“what’s that look ... what am i missing?” belle looked between the two of you, very used to your antics.

“oh nothing…” aeri mused. “just getting y/n a date to formal.”

...

“i think i’m gonna stay in tonight, dude.” taesan sighed as he sunk onto the couch. it was friday afternoon and taesan was sufficiently worn out from the past week.

he had an exam this morning that he was almost late to because he got lost and then he didn’t have time to eat lunch because he had to go to a project meeting.

on top of everything, he got a glimpse of you laughing with giselle, ningning, and sohee on his way back from his meeting. now, he was just left with a sinking feeling in his stomach and a desire to suffocate himself under his covers for the rest of the night.

“you can’t miss jaehyun’s dude, he’s gonna kill you” as leehan replied, the ominious text their friend had sent him this morning flashed in his mind.

myungjae [9:43 a.m.]: make sure taesan comes tonight. 

leehan [9:46 a.m.]: what

“today has been the worst, i need to sulk.” taesan whined into the couch cushions, eliciting a punch in the shoulder from leehan.

“c’mon, that’s why you need to come out. get wasted and forget about your shitty week.” taesan frowned but didn’t respond.

maybe his roommate was right. plus, he had a sneaking suspicion leehan would drag him out of the apartment by his hair if he tried to stay in bed. groaning loudly, taesan got up.

“fine, i’m taking a nap first, though.” 

...

liquid courage was surging through you, not that you really needed it. you were still riding the high of your almost-kiss from earlier this week. the light fluffy feeling the alcohol was giving you was just a bonus.

standing in front of the mirror in jaehyun's bathroom, you gave yourself a once over as ningning fixed her eyeliner next to you. you were absentmindedly fixing the ends of your hair and adjusting the straps of your cami as she looked over at you with a smile.

"you look amazing, y/n. his jaw is going to be on the floor." she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. smiling softly, you thanked her. looking back at yourself in the mirror, you felt the anticipation coursing through your veins.

the dull echo of jaehyun's house playlist pulsed through the walls and only heightened the excitement you felt under your skin. hearing your phone buzz, you looked over at the phone screen, a certain text message catching your attention.

myungjae [10:58 p.m.]: he just walked in.

you made eye contact with ningning as you clicked your phone shut and slipped it in the back pocket of your shorts.

"it's go time." she laughed, wishing your luck as she pushed you towards the bathroom door. turning open the doorknob, you stepped out into the living room, colored lights dancing across the walls.

...

taesan was pulled towards the kitchen by his roommate, barely getting a glimpse of the rest of the party before a shot was being pushed into his hand.

"you need a drink, dude." leehan demanded, turning around and looking for myungjae in the sea of people and waving him over. their friend smiled and pushed through a couple people to get into the kitchen, giving taesan and leehan a fist bump.

"hey, you guys made it!" he smiled, accepting the shot leehan handed him.

the three of them clinked their glasses and downed the clear liquid together. taesan's face scrunched at the burning in his throat, coughing roughly.

"do you have punch or something?" jaehyun nodded and walked away to get some jungle juice.

looking around, taesan took in his surroundings. jaehyun had a nice apartment, and he'd been a few times. it looked completely different than it did during the day, furniture pushed to the walls to make room for people to dance. the apartment was completely dark except for the colored led lights, giving the room a blueish glow.

looking into the living room, taesan scanned the crowd for anyone else he knew. he caught a glimpse of sungho and riwoo, his old roommates, talking to the dj, some guy he didn't recognize.

his eyes widened when he saw giselle near the dj's booth as well, chatting with some tall guy he didn't recognize.

were you here too? even though he knew you were friends with jaehyun, he somehow failed to consider the fact you might be at this party as well.

turning back to leehan, he spoke hurriedly.

"i need another shot."

...

a couple shots and a cup of jungle juice (that was probably 80% booze) later, he finally stepped out of the kitchen.

"i'm gonna go say hi to someone really quick, i'll be back in a bit." taesan nodded and waved as leehan stepped away. he felt a little looser, shoulders finally relaxing a bit as he walked over to sungho and riwoo.

they chatted for a bit, and he sipped on another glass of spiked fruit punch as he laughed along with them. riwoo was complaining about his choreography class animatedly and sungho was gushing about some junior, kim woonhak, he'd just befriended.

"it's official, guys. i'm a single dad now." taesan rolled his eyes at his friends, a small smile painting his face.

after a beat, the boy noticed his friends glancing behind him. tilting his head in confusion, he turned around to see what they were looking at so curiously. forgetting how drunk he was and the fact that he had a drink in his hand, he swung around a bit faster and more clumsily than he wanted to.

"is there something beh-" he began, before he felt himself promptly bump into someone, their head hitting his chest. suddenly the front of his shirt was damp, his cup of punch getting caught between him and the mystery stranger and spilling on him.

"shit my bad are you oka-" taesan's concerned voice abruptly cut off as the person in front of him came into focus. lo and behold, you were standing in front of him, the front of your top now boasting a growing wet spot from taesan's drink.

there's actually no fucking way. taesan didn't think he's ever wished for the ground to swallow him whole more than that very moment.

"taesan, hey! it's you again." you smiled easily, as if you didn't notice the sticky beverage now spilled across your shirt and chest. taesan could've sworn he saw you bat your eyelashes.

"i'm so sorry about your shirt, i didn't mean to be so clumsy." taesan almost stumbled over his words as the apologies spilled from his lips. his stomach was simultaneously flipping and twisting at the sight of you looking up at him.

you looked down as if you were seeing the stain on your shirt for the first time as well, smiling and shrugging.

"don't worry about it, i'm sorry! you got wet too." you gestured slightly to his shirt as well, giggling. you had definitely had a few drinks as well, taesan wasn't sure if you were as drunk as him.

"don't worry about it either, it was my bad." you waved away his admission of guilt, your gaze suddenly darkening slightly.

"guess we're even then! would you mind if i asked for a favor though?" taesan hummed in acknowledgement and nodded, beckoning you to continue.

"help me clean up?"

as taesan's face turned into a look of shock and surprise, you giggled again, blinking up at him slowly. snapping out of his drunken daze, he nodded quickly and waved goodbye to his friends. grabbing your wrist, he wove through the crowd, his fingers wrapped tight around your arm. his hand was warm, and you had to put in an effort to peel your eyes away from his grip on you, heartbeat speeding up.

looking away from his back, you made eye contact with giselle and belle across the small apartment. you smiled as they gave you thumbs up from the other side of the room as taesan whisked you away.

jackpot.

...

it's you who shuts the bathroom door behind the two of you. taesan finally turns back around to look at you, trying to ignoring his racing heartbeat.

in the lighting of the bathroom he can finally see you. you look better than that fateful day in the elevator, even in your basic cami and denim shorts. the stain on your shirt is small, which taesan is thankful for. unfortunately, some of his drink spilled on the exposed skin of your chest, it's sticky residue making your chest all shiny.

you look so perfect, taesan thinks he might actually faint. he almost feels the air leave his lungs as you smile up at him.

when you step towards him he freezes, only letting his shoulders relax when he realizes you're reaching past him to turn on the sink's faucet. your hair brushes his arm and your shoulder bumps his, and taesan can smell your fruity perfume.

you smell like berries and some sort of flower, and taesan almost gets lost in it, in you. the sound of the faucet running helps to clear his mind a little, but he loses his cool all over again when you grab his shoulder to turn him to face you.

"sorry, is it okay if i touch you?" taesan's sure he's red as a cherry as he nods, his movements stuttering slightly. truly, he has no fucking clue what you're about to do, but god he could not care less.

you grab a small towel hanging nearby and dip it under the running water before bringing it to taesan's chest, where the offending stain has dried up into his shirt.

gently, you rub the wet fabric across his shirt. your other hand is splayed on his shoulder, taesan isn't sure if it's for stability or because you want him to pass out and die on the spot. from his view, he can see your long lashes flutter as you squint at his chest in concentration.

he's trying to focus on anything but your heavy gaze on him. the boy opts to look at the ceiling, tilting his head up and not giving his eyes any chance of stealing a glance at you.

every once in a while, your fingers brush against his chest lightly and he feels his skin burn underneath your touch. despite how drunk he is, he's suddenly so aware of everything.

he wonders if you can hear his heartbeat, if you can feel how his breaths and his lungs stutter when you rub the towel on him. your proximity alone is making his head spin more than the alcohol he drank.

the way you're doting on him is making his stomach burn with some type of desire, taesan doesn't think he's ever felt a need like this before. his racing thoughts are distracted by the sound of a huff below him.

he looks down at you as you scrub a bit more on his shirt before pulling away slowly.

"that should be good en-" you don't get to finish your sentence, interrupted by taesan's hand grabbing your wrist.

before you can even think, taesan's lips are on yours. you drop the towel in shock, and it makes a soft noise as it hits the floor.

neither of you seem to care all too much, though. your eyes flutter shut as taesan's other hand slides into your hair, tilting your head slightly.

the kiss is soft and timid as first, but after a moment taesan decides he's done playing games. he knows you want this as much as he does, he can tell by the way your hands are crumpling his damp shirt and pulling him closer to you.

taesan's lips are soft and plump as they slide menacingly slow against yours. his warm tongue presses against your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. he notices how pliant you are in his hold, lips falling open so his tongue can explore the wet walls of your mouth and throat. his hand hovers near your throat, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. you whimper as he gives it an experimental squeeze, your hands pulling him closer by his firm shoulders.

the feeling of his tongue filling your mouth makes your moan, the sound muffled and quiet. taesan doesn't miss it though, the noise only egging him on further. he bites your bottom lip before dragging his tongue over it soothingly.

it's hot and wet and messy, and spit trails down both of your chins with every smack of your lips against each other.

at some point, your arms wrapped around taesan's neck, his settling in the curve of your waist. your bodies fit perfectly together, your chest molding to his in a way that makes your head spin.

you can barely form a thought when taesan sucks on your tongue. you've never felt this way before, heat pooling in your stomach as his hands push into the small of your back.

at some point, he turns the two of you so you're pressed against the counter. his hands press your hips into the ceramic surface as his mouth dips down to press open mouthed kisses to the curve of your neck.

his teeth drag and brush against your delicate skin and his velvety tongue licks stripes across the bruises that you're sure he's leaving.

his lips are warm and wet as they suck your skin, traveling down your neck and shoulder. he bites your collarbone and you whimper again, a single hand threading into his hair hurriedly.

he finally gets you sitting on the countertop, and your legs wrap around him greedily, pulling him even closer. he licks the stickyness of his spilled drink from your chest, the sugary taste of the punch spreading on his tongue.

it's obscene, the things he wants to do to you. what's worse is that you look like you'd let him do anything to do you, melting under the attention of his hands and mouth.

the boy feels you tug at his hair, pulling him face back up so your lips can meet his in a bruising kiss. his brain almost goes into overdrive when you suck on his bottom lip, and he groans into your mouth.

hot and bothered, your hands slide across his firm shoulders, trailing down his chest and abdomen wickedly slow. your fingers tease the hem of his tshirt, twisting and tugging it as you lips move against his roughly.

the first touch of your fingers against his bare skin almost makes taesan dissolve into air. your skin is electrifying against his, leaving a burning path as it travels up his torso. you appreciate his toned form with your hands and the small noises coming from your mouth.

it feels like you've been making out for hours. taesan is honestly surprised that neither of you have run out of breath. you don't seem like anywhere near ready to let go of the boy, palms grasping for any of his skin that you can reach. slowly but steadily, your hands drift lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of taesan's jeans.

he pulls away hesistantly, watching a string of saliva stretch between the two of you. his eyes almost roll into the back of his head when he sees you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes starry and glazed over.

"let's get out of here." you say it before he can, one hand still grasping his jeans.

"my place." taesan says pointedly.

taesan helps you off the counter and helps you smooth down your hair. you intertwine your fingers with his as he twists open the doorknob. the two of you are out of the apartment before either of you can bid your friends goodbye. you'll just have to text them in the morning.

right now, the only thing on both of your minds is getting back to taesan's apartment. everything else is going to have to wait.

...

for the second time, the two of you found yourselves in the same damn elevator together. the irony wasn't lost on either of you, and taesan smirked as he pulled you into his chest the moment the doors closed.

"seems like we have some unfinished business in here huh?" he mumbled before laying his lips back on yours. they were cold from being outside, but his tongue was warm as it pushed back into your mouth. he was leaning lazily against the wall, arms wrapped around your waist as he held you against him.

you whimpered as his hands ghosted over your ass, not quite applying the pressure you were aching for. the ding of the elevator sounded far away; he pulled away slowly, gesturing behind you at the open doors. you didn't hesitate to step towards the hall, closer to your destination.

taesan kept one of your hands tight in his hold as he fumbled with his keys. he sighed in relief as he finally pushed the door open, pulling you in with him. in a moment's time your mouth was back on his, the two of you kicking off your shoes as taesan led the two of backwards to his room. your skin was hot everywhere he touched you, and you moaned in anticipation as he pushed you backwards onto his bed.

the sight of you sitting on his bed and looking up at him with doe eyes, was something straight out of taesan's dreams. your chest rose and fell erratically and your eyes were round and glassed over. his eyes fixated on your red, swollen lips, glossy from yours and taesan's saliva.

"you're so beautiful." taesan breathed out as he tilted your chin up, cupping your jaw and leaning down to catch your plump lips with his. you didn't miss a beat, hands catching the front of his shirt. taesan laid you down, not breaking your kiss for a second.

your back pressed into the soft mattress, and you groaned at the feeling of taesan's firm chest pressed against yours. his hands landed at your hips, rubbing slow circles as they slid under your shirt gingerly. his fingers were cold, making your abdomen tense as they grazed over your soft skin.

it was hot and filthy, the way he licked into your mouth with fervor. your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as his tongue slid against yours roughly. you felt like hot lava, overheating faster and faster by the second.

your teeth nipped at his bottom lip, fingers greedily tugging at the ends of his shirt. taesan got the message immediately, breaking away from you slowly. standing on his knees, he pulled his shirt over his head. propping yourself up on your elbows, you admired the sight of his in front of you. his hair was slightly ruffled by the shirt and his lips were puffy and shiny.

you couldn't help the way your gaze drifted south. taesan's arousal was undeniable, bulge heavy in his pants. you licked your lips at the sight, eliciting a groan from the boy in front of you. heat pooled low in your belly at the noise, and you felt the impatience within you grow.

you reached out and curled a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss. taesan held himself up with his arms, tilting his face down to dip his tongue into your mouth. you let your hand roam downwards, fingers grazing over the tent in the boy's pants menacingly.

"please, tae, need you." you mumbled against his lips, pressure from your palm increasing with each pleading syllable that rolled off your tongue. taesan hummed in response, and before you knew it he was pushing your hand away and lowering his bottom half so his hips were flush against yours, bulge pushing against your clothed heat.

you moaned loudly at the pressure, and taesan only rolled his hips more, satisfied with the way you were writhing underneath him. his hands dug into your hips, holding you down whenever you tried to buck your hips up to match his pace. the way he so easily overpowered you only furthered your arousal, and you felt it in your tensed abdomen as his dick pressed against you again.

taesan's hot mouth moved down your jaw and neck, licking a stripe near your collarbone. he bit and nipped at your skin, and you could already feel the bruises blooming on your sensitive skin.

his hands cupped your boobs over your shirt, the pressure making your arch your back into him. he was addicted to the way your body moved and responded to him. it seemed almost unconscious, the way you were attuned to every graze of his skin against yours.

pulling back slightly, you watched with a hooded gaze as taesan's eyes dragged over your body. you looked like an angel, hair fanned out on the comforter, neck already blooming purple, lips red and shiny, and the straps of your cami falling off your shoulders. taesan finally had you all to himself and he wanted to savor every moment you were pressed against him.

your breathing was erratic as his hand slid under your shirt, fingertips leaving a blazing trail on the skin of your stomach. he rubbed the hem of your cami in between his fingertips, looking you in the eyes as he did.

"can i take this off?" he asked in a low voice that almost made your legs shake. you nodded hurriedly, sitting up so he could pull it over your head.

you unbuttoned your shorts as well, placing his hands on your waistband so he'd slide them off for you. he did, without hesitation, deliberately dragging his fingertips down the skin of your thighs as he pulled the clothing off. he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the sight of you in just your bra and panties, and you could've sworn that you watched his dick twitch.

taesan wanted to know all of you, inside and out. he watched as you curled into a ball, shy under his heavy gaze. he unbuttoned his pants, kicking them off his legs before placing his hands on your knees, pushing them down so he could crawl over you.

you laid back, head against his pillow as taesan hovered over you, hands on their side of your head. he dropped his hips so his clothed dick brushed against you, reveling in the way your eyes shut as you drowned in the pleasure and anticipation. a finger was dragged down the center of your chest, tracing the line where your bra pressed your breasts against each other.

taesan tilted himself down to press hot, open-mouthed, kisses along the edge of your bra, lips teasing your skin torturously. your back arched as you grabbed his hand, placing it on the clasp of your bra.

"don't they usually unclip in the back?" taesan mumbled curiously, voice low as his eyes met yours. you smiled wickedly, and he instantly knew that you planned this.

"not all of them." you said lightly, shrugging slightly and feigning a fake innocence that made taesan's eyes darken. within moments the garment was snapped open and tugged off your body, and taesan's rough fingertips were kneading into the plush skin of your chest.

his gaze laid heavily on you, its weight pushing down and making you forget how to breathe. you decided you couldn't keep looking at him, your eyes screwing shut and head pressing back into his pillow as hot lips sucked and licked at your skin, trailing down your chest and abdomen. your head was spinning and a slight sound of disapproval cut through the noise, cold fingers tapping the side of your head.

"look at me, y/n" you huffed, opening your eyes and propping yourself on your elbows to make pointed eye contact with him. taesan's face was hovering over your stomach, fingers rubbing circles into the side of your hips. the smile on his face sent chills down your neck and a warm gush between your legs.

"there you go. keep watching me, ok?" your stubborn gaze softened in seconds and you weakly nodded, watching him lower his mouth to tongue at the soft skin of your thighs. your ears were ringing, the rush of blood drowning out the good girl he was mumbling into your skin.

your senses felt heightened, all of your nerves lighting up at the sensation of taesan's hot, rough tongue licking and teasing your inner thighs. he was in no rush it seemed, decorating the skin with purple bruises and wet saliva. he ran his hands up and down your sides, letting the tips of his fingers catch the fabric of your underwear.

he was teasing you mercilessly, the anticipation nearly eating you alive.

"taesan, please." you whined as you felt him run a finger over your clothed slit. your underwear stuck to you painfully, the fabric soaked with your arousal. he made eye contact with you as he wet his middle finger with his mouth before pulling your panties to the side.

the wet finger pushed into your gushing entrance, slowly making room for itself within you. you sucked in a shaky breath when he fully sheathed his finger within you.

"you're so wet, y/n." he groaned. before you could even think of responding, he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, pulling a loud moan from you.

his lips wrapped around your clit gingerly as he added another finger. it was like his hands and mouth were made for you, fingers crooking just right and hitting the spongy spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

your surroundings slowly disappeared as you drowned in the feeling of taesan on you, in you. you felt electric, sparks flying through your body with every swipe of his tongue and every flick of his wrist. you planted your feet against the bed and your hips weakly jerked upwards to meet the thrusts of his fingers into you.

you couldn't even understand the sounds you were making, broken moans and cries spilling out of you. taesan chuckled against you, mouth still hot against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"stop squirming." his voice only made you wetter, and another moan tore from your throat as you fisted taesan's sheets.

"you wanted this, didn't you?" taesan's thumb rubbed circles into your clit, replacing his lips, and he continued pumping his fingers into you mercilessly. you felt him all around you, drowning in his touch, his voice. the words falling off his tongue dripped with venom, and it only fanned the flames in your lower half.

"always teasing and playing with me. i didn't know what you wanted from me then, but i get it now." taesan mumbled against your hips, where he dragging his lips and teeth on your soft skin, leaving even more marks. you couldn't even answer him, jolts of pleasure making your thoughts go haywire. he smiled against your skin, enjoying the fucked out look on your face.

"you're usually so mouthy, what happened, y/n?" taesan watched you writhe underneath him, tears welling in your shut eyes. the sight of you falling apart had him painfully hard, dick straining in his boxers helplessly.

"f-fuck, tae." you cried out as he hit that spot inside you again, heat pooling in your stomach and threatening to spill out of you. "gonna cu- fuck!"

"go ahead, i got you." taesan didn't let up, fingers pounding into you. the room was filled with your whimpers and the wet noises of your arousal. with one more snap of his wrist, the coil in your stomach snapped, and your entire body shook as you came. you could feel your walls fluttering uncontrollably around taesan's fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm.

your back slumped as you came down from your high, barely registering the feeling of taesan's fingers lazily stroking in and out of you until the twinges of overstimulation started to settle in. you pushed his hands away from you with a whine, opening your eyes slowly. as your surroundings came back to you, you were greeted with the sight of taesan leaning over you, licking your juices off his fingers.

your voice was soft and delicate as you cursed at the sight, legs wrapping around his waist so you could pull him into a bruising kiss. his wet hand gripped your sides hard enough to leave bruises as you sucked on his tongue gingerly.

his hardened length grinded against you as he licked into your mouth, and the fabric of his boxers rubbing against your clit made you hiss in pleasure. you let your splayed hand on his chest drag downwards, fingers teasing the waistband of his underwear. taesan sighed into your mouth as it slipped underneath, your hand wrapping around his dick.

it was heavy in your hand, and you could feel the way the tip bulged in comparison to the rest of his length. you squeezed him experimentally, smiling in satisfaction at the pretty noises he was making and the way he was biting your lip helplessly.

your grip was hot and tight around him and you smeared the precum leaking from the tip along his length, making your fist glide smoother along the veiny skin.

"you feel so ... mmmh fuck so good" taesan's face was pressed into your neck, soft pants filling your ears deliciously. you jerked him slow, forcing him to savor the drag of your soft fingers on his dick. your hands were so much softer than his, and they felt like heaven wrapped around him. his hips rutted against your hand as he fucked your fist, and the room filled with sounds of skin sliding against each other and soft moans.

taesan could feel the knot in his stomach ready to burst and, with the most willpower he's even had, he grabbed your wrist and tugged your hand out of his boxers.

"i don't wanna cum from your hand." he said breathlessly, slipping his boxers off. you giggled as he reached over you to pull open the top drawer of his nightstand, fishing out a condom. you kicked off your ruined underwear, tossing them somewhere on taesan's bedroom floor.

"it'd be a nice ego boost for me." you teased, running a finger up his length as he ripped open the foil package. he rolled his eyes, smacking your wrist away as he slid the rubber on himself.

"i think that's the last thing you need, actually." his voice was low and breathy as he spoke, hands running up your torso and gripping your face. he pushed his lips against yours, tongue dipping between your lips. you pulled him closer by his shoulders, skin burning in anticipation as you felt his length rest against your stomach.

you were aching to feel him inside you, walls pulsing around nothing. you wanted him so bad it hurt, nails digging into his soft skin.

"please, just put it in." you barely got the words out in between kisses. you could feel taesan smile against you. he debated ignoring your pleas, swallowing your whimpers in between his lips and making you beg a bit longer. but taesan was feeling a bit impatient, not to mention painfully hard, today as well; he'd save the begging for another night.

he broke your kiss, letting his lips hover over yours. your breaths mingled together as his heavy gaze met yours. looking down between you, he wrapped a hand around his length, sliding the tip between your folds. the sounds were obscene, your wetness coating his tip generously.

you whined again, trying to tilt your hips upward to slip part of him inside you. your efforts were fruitless, taesan's wrist moved from his length to hold your hips down as he tutted in disapproval. when you finally stopped squirming, he moved his hips forward, pushing the tip into you slowly.

"ngh -- fuck." you moaned as he sank into you slowly. even after taking his fingers, you still felt a stretch as your body made room for him inside you. the burn was delicious, and your hands reached for him, any part of him. one of taesan's hands moved from your hip to hold your empty hand, fingers intertwining as he finally bottomed out.

"are you okay?" it was only after he asked the question that you realized you were panting, breaths short and fast.

"mmm uhm -- yea i'm just, shit, so full." taesan's eyes darkened as he took in your words, pride swelling at the way his dick took the words out of your brain. he pressed his lips to yours, coaxing your body to adjust to the newfound fullness.

you felt like you were falling, and his touch was the only thing keeping you from disintegrating into thin air. you unconsciously clenched around him, and he gasped into your mouth.

"you're so -- shit so tight." he mumbled into your neck before licking a stripe up to your jaw. "can i move?"

you nodded, grinding your hips upwards slightly. taesan's first thrusts were slow, letting the two of your savor the drag of his veiny skin against your warm walls. with each thrust, the slight discomfort of his intrusion faded, and warm pleasure pooled in your abdomen, making you whine and grasp his shoulder.

"ngh faster, please." your words were broken, and taesan reveled in the effect he had on you. he angled his hips upward and began moving in and out of you faster, tip brushing your g-spot with every thrust.

the room filled with wet squelching noises as he fucked into you, his skin slapping against yours obscenely. the sight of his face above you was everything, bangs sweaty as they clung to his forehead and eyes scrunched in concentration as he tried to keep a steady rhythm. the bed creaked loudly, and you were sure any of his neighbors could definitely hear.

nothing mattered to you though, nothing but the sweet sensation of him filling you up, dick sliding inside you and making your eyes roll back.

a rough hand landed on your clit, fingers rubbing tight circles against the soft bud with vigor. the sensation was almost too much, and you nearly screamed when he somehow angled his hips even higher. every stroke inside sent jolts of pleasure down your limbs; your skin felt electric.

"so-o good, tae." your words were punched out, brain foggy as taesan fucked all coherent thoughts out of you. he groaned and bit down on your shoulder as you lifted your hips to meet his movements.

"you're too good to me, baby." he cooed at you, voice all too pleasant compared to the way he was pounding into you. "so warm inside. all for me."

his sweet words only made you hurtle even faster towards your climax. you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began. you looked between your bodies to see where the two of you connected, letting out a broken whine at the sight of his length sliding in and out of you.

his hand left your clit and slid low on your abdomen, pressing in slightly. the pressure sent waves of warm pleasure through you.

"i can see myself. right here." you looked down to see where his hand was. it rested on a small bulge in your stomach, one that moved with his thrusts into you. taesan ran his thumb over it and you let out a weak sob at the sight, burying your face into his neck.

"fuck ..." you sighed as his dick carved into you. taesan grabbed your hair, pulling your face out of the crook in his shoulder.

"fuck, y/n, say you're mine." he groaned, eyes piercing into you. his hand hovered over your clit again, fingers ghosting over the sensitive nub as he spoke again. "say it."

"i'm shit-- i'm yours, taesan. only yours." you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you held onto him. he fucked deep into you, long fingers rubbing into your clit vigorously.

you didn't even tell him when your orgasm hit you, capturing his lips with yours instead. it washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking your whole body in hot bliss. taesan groaned as your walls squeezed him, mumbling an i'm cumming against your lips softly.

even through the condom, you could feel his release, the feeling of the hot liquid making you moan loudly. taesan fucked you through both of your highs, stroking in and out of you as you came back down to earth.

he pressed his forehead to yours when he broke your kiss, warm breath fanning on your cheeks. his movements slowed to a stop as his body slumped on top of you, dick softening inside of you as he pressed his face into your neck.

"you're gonna crush me, tae." you wheezed out, chest squeezing underneath him. your hands balled into fists as they flailed against his back, and you were laughing. taesan chuckled, pushing himself up by his arms to pull himself out of you. he rolled off the bed, tossing the condom. he disappeared into his closet, walking out in a pair of fresh boxers. you smiled shyly as he handed you a big tshirt and a pair of his boxers for you to sleep in, slipping them on before sliding back onto the bed.

you turned onto your side to face him when he crawled back to join you and pulled a blanket over the two of you, your hand coming up to run though his hair. his eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, rubbing against your hand like a cat.

"what are you thinking about?" his voice was low and smooth as he opened his eyes to look at you, making your cheeks burn.

"you." you whispered. a hand wrapped around your arm and he pulled you into his chest, his other hand cupping the back of your head. you tilted your head up so you could kiss him, slow and soft. your legs tangled with his as you tilted your face to brush your tongue against his lightly.

"hmm ... good answer." he smiled against your mouth, planting another kiss on your cheek. you closed your eyes as he squeezed you against him, peppering kisses across your face. you hid your face in the crook of his neck and let his warm body encase you, falling asleep to the feeling on his face nuzzling into your hair.

...

two weeks had passed since the fateful party, and taesan was now your boyfriend. both of you were sitting with your friend group at lunch, laughing over some dumb argument between myungjae and sohee.

"y/n, you agree with me, right?" jaehyun looked at you pleadingly at you as you shook your head, laughing. you were eating some fries with taesan's arm draped around your shoulder, periodically feeding him some.

"you're crazy, jae." his offended look only egged your laughter on further, your shoulders shaking slightly.

"and to think i helped you plot on my friend. i never would've expected you of all people to betray me." he gasped dramatically, falling into his seat with a pout. your jaw dropped as he sat down, cheeks reddening as you reached over to smack him on the back of the head. you heard a chuckle from your boyfriend, making your cheeks blush furiously.

"wow, i can't believe i was all stressed worrying that you hated me while you were preying on me." taesan laughed as he pulled you away before you properly jumped on jaehyun.

"it wasn't like tha-" he cut you off with a swift kiss, lips swallowing your rebuttal.

a chorus of gross! and ew's and not again's could be heard across the table, and suddenly everyone was chastising myungjae for provoking the two of you.

"now i have to bleach my eyes, jesus." giselle mumbled.

[hesperisms]

Sylus and reader just started their relationship and she can’t keep up with sylus’s high sex drive

// Relentless Conqueror

"As for what's been keeping you up at night, well, I'm more than enough..."

// summary: you finally admitted to Sylus that you had feelings for him, but you had no idea that getting to see his softer side would also show you how much he deserves his title as a Relentless Conqueror...

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), dominance, established history, pet names, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie

// a/n: anon, anon, anon, what have you done to me with this ask! Sylus has been rattling around in my brain since this one came in, begging to be unleashed! hope you're pleased <3

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

Sylus' large hands wrapped around your body possessively as you stood at the bathroom counter, his left hand snaking upwards under your oversized shirt to cup your breast, rolling, kneading, squeezing tenderly while his right hand splayed out over your stomach, holding you firmly against him, the pads of his long fingers pressing into your soft skin. "I woke up and you weren't there, kitten...I didn't like it." Sylus purred in a husky, newly awake gravel tone that dripped down your neck as he nuzzled his lips against your ear.

You blushed and reached down to rub your hand over the back of his hand on your stomach, melting into his firm chest pressed against your back. Slipping out of bed about twenty minutes beforehand while Sylus softly snored on his stomach, face down in the pillows, white hair a fluffy tumble was the first peace you'd had to yourself in almost two days. You knew that Sylus was an incredibly driven man, you'd seen his file in Hunter HQ that referred to him as The Relentless Conqueror but you had no idea that would also apply to his sex life. In hindsight, coming to know Sylus and falling for him as you had, you were naïve to think it wouldn't.

Sylus was a man of quiet confidence; you knew anything he committed himself to, he committed himself fully and this newly blossoming relationship with you was something he was giving his all. His passion for you was insatiable, an almost otherworldly hunger had roared to life within him once you'd told him that you wanted to be his. Every deep passionate kiss felt like he wanted to suck the air from your lungs and breathe you in, every possessive shield of his broad chest against you felt like he wanted to meld yourself with him.

Sylus had his other half back.

Sylus was whole again.

The rush that came with knowing that you were his again, that missing piece of his existence slotted back into place had surged his libido and he couldn't get enough of you. He already had a higher than normal sex drive, but the rush of that sweet honeymoon phase that had him so very love-drunk on you had turned his dial into overdrive and your body was struggling to keep up with his appetites.

Sylus had spent a lot of time watching you, studying every little expression and your body language intimately in his time re-discovering you, so he picked up on it in the vanity mirror when you winced slightly as he squeezed your breast. He switched things up and stroked the underside gently instead, kissing your neck and murmuring softly to you as he side-eyed your shared reflection. "I'm sorry sweetie, I know you have a sensitive body," he begins. "Have I been too much for you these last couple of days?"

You blushed, cheeks flushing and you smiled, reaching up to cradle his head against your neck, stroking his hair and he closed his eyes contentedly at the touch. "I know you're making the most of our time together before I have to head back to Linkon tomorrow, but I'm already dreading the suspicious looks I'm going to get from my teammates if I have difficulty sitting down comfortably at the conference table on Monday." You admitted to him with a gentle sigh.

"It's a very large conference table..." Sylus murmurs with a serious tone. "Should I schedule a meeting with your boss so that I have a reason to come ravage you on top of it in front of all of them? You won't have to think up an excuse, that way?" He chuckles wickedly, his warm hot breath fanning over your ear as he teases the idea of outing your relationship publicly. You give his cheek a gentle tap in a mock slap and he huffs, turning you around to face him.

Those hawkish crimson eyes of his glitter with a mixture of mischief, adoration and unbridled lust as he stares down at you, brushing the backs of his knuckles over the side of your cheek tenderly. He slides his hands down under your ass and you instinctively wrap your arms up around his neck, pulling his large frame down into a hug and he melts easily under your touch pecking kisses on the crown of your head, sniffing your hair. "Your scent...I want it to belong to me." he growls as he squeezes your backside and you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.

You bite your lip, tilting your chin up to look up at Sylus, matching that hungry gaze of his with curious eyes. "If I promise I'll be gentle, can I have you again, kitten? I can't smell myself on you strong enough yet, I haven't finished marking you as mine." Sylus whispers, fingertips dimpled into the flesh of your ass cheeks possessively. Your breath catches in your throat at his words and despite the worn-in ache between your thighs from a long weekend of his significant girth stretching you out, you feel your heat start to build, desire stirring in your hips.

Sylus notices your bright eyes darken and your breath adjust. He knows he could carry you off to the bedroom right now and you wouldn't stop him, but he needs to hear your consent; his ego needs you to voice your desire for him, to hear that sweet voice of yours give him authority to lose himself in you. You smile at him seductively and look up through your lashes at him, nodding.

"Take me."

A predatory wolfish grin hits his lips at hearing you voice his claim on you and he scoops you up into his arms, striding confidently back into the bedroom with you and laying you down on the silk sheets of his large bed. You slide the oversized shirt off over your head and toss it at him, aiming for his face. With a cocky grin he flicks the tip of his index finger and a tendril of his evol swirls angry black and red, knocking the shirt away from him.

Sylus slides his silk robe off his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet and he stalks towards you on the bed like a big cat striding down its next meal, eyes locked on yours as he climbs between your thighs, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as he holds his weight above you. "Tell me that I'm the only one you want, Sweetie..." he purrs at you with a seductive, needy tone, fingers brushing your hair away from your neck so he can lean down to sink his mouth on your delicate skin, licking and sucking at your rapidly racing pulse, teeth lightly grazing before his tongue laps the pain away. "Tell me that this beautiful body of yours is mine to worship."

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes and letting your lips part slightly, a soft moan escaping you. He doesn't stop his ministrations on your neck, tongue swirling tantalizing patterns across your throat, but you feel the vibration of an impatient moan he lets out in response to yours.

"Do I need to tell you Sylus?" You laugh with a breathy whisper. "Or is my entire body singing it to you every time you touch me enough?"

His lips burn a trail down your throat, over your collarbones and down onto your chest, your nipples already firm and aching to be touched. Sylus wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, tongue lavishing slow wet curls across it, lovingly kissing it. You gasp in pleasure and close your eyes and as you do, he tilts his face up to watch you while he suckles at you. After a couple of minutes his warm wet mouth swaps sides, making sure he's dedicated attention to both your breasts.

"I'm not quite convinced," he hums, vibrations through your nipple on his tongue making you whimper. "I definitely think I need to hear it if I'm going to stay in control of my urges."

Feeling bold, you reach down and snake your fingers through his thick hair, smiling sweetly and scratching his scalp with your nails. "Do all Crows talk this much, or just mine? I believe I was promised worshipping." You say cheekily, crying out in shock and pleasure as his teeth find your nipple and press down gently in response.

Pulling back from your breasts, he releases your nipple with a wet suck and grins up at you, his devilishly handsome features all angles in the soft glow of the bedroom lamps. He lifts himself up on his knees and makes a show of bowing to you, hand pressed to his heart like he's making a solemn vow. "Let me put my lips to better service of My Lady then" he smirks, dropping himself backwards off the edge of the bed to comfortably rest his head on your inner thigh.

His thumbs rub gently down your delicate folds, your juices quickly slicking them and making their movements sound slick and sinful. Sylus' hot breath tickles your wet heat and he murmurs quietly "so wet for me already Kitten and I've barely touched you...maybe your body is trying to tell me something."

"I think the signs might be there if you squint hard enough." You nod in agreement with him, biting your lip with a soft genuine laugh.

Your laughter stokes his fires of passion for you and it takes all his self restraint not to bury his face in your heat intensely. He had promised you he'd be gentle, that he'd take his time with you, ease the aches he had rut into your body over this past few days and while Sylus is always a man of his word, it took everything he had to keep that promise when you looked so perfect beneath him. He could smell the sweet tang of you and it called to him, made him feel like he was home.

Sylus' tongue explored your soaked heat teasingly, gently, featherlight flickers across your aching bud in a cursive language you didn't comprehend. Jolts of raw desire and need coursed through your walls and deep into your abdomen with his deliberate attentions. You moan his name and arch your back and he presses his large hand flat on your belly, encouraging your coiling orgasm to build more intensely. He's setting such a slow and intense pace that time feels like it has slowed down for you both, you feel like he's been lapping at your folds for what must be an hour when he finally introduces his fingers to explore your needy pussy.

Dripping wet under his tongue, your swollen walls offer his long fingers no resistance, drawing him in with needy clenches as his skilled tongue coaxes sighs and moans from your lips and his fingers slide in and out of you. He feels the subtle tremors, the way your walls begin to firm around his fingers and he knows you're so close to unravelling on his tongue, if he just pushes you a little further...

Sylus' deep rumbling moan against your clit makes your nerves explode in pleasure and you buck against his mouth, crying out his name in shuddering shaky breaths as your orgasm cascades in rhythmic clenches of intense pleasure through your body, leaving your thighs trembling with aftershocks and your heart rate pounding like a war drum in your chest.

He pulls away from you and looks up at you, smug satisfaction written across his face as your orgasm drips from his lips and down his chin, glistening. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and sucks on it, savoring the taste of you and offers you his slicked fingers to suck on. You take them greedily, tongue lewdly slurping up your own juices and he watches with an intense stare of love for you, cheeks flushed red, eyes glistening and pupils blown out, feeling so accomplished that he caused you to come undone this way.

"I'm so lucky I'm the only one that gets to see you like this, Sweetie."

It comes out huskily, his emotions getting caught in his throat for a moment, manifesting your pleasure so important to him.

He withdraws his fingers from your mouth and leans over to kiss you passionately, lining his aching erection up against your sopping folds. "I'll take it slow, okay?" he promises again, sliding his tip through your slit to coat himself with your juices before easing the head in gently. Your whole body shivers underneath him and you shift your hips, lifting your legs up and wrapping them around his ribcage to grant his girth more access.

Just as he promised, Sylus takes his time, inch by inch slowly slipping into you until you're so full of him that you feel the ache of your tired walls starting to settle and get used to his significant size. You've never been more full, he's so big and his tip presses insistently up against your cervix in a way that's almost painful if he thrusts too hard. He begins to roll his hips down into you, building a soft but intense rhythm, hitting all your most sensitive spots so very deep inside.

He grinds into you, holding his weight just off you so that he's not suffocating you and you moan deeply as you look down between you to see his length plunging in and out of you, his hips keeping a steady pace. His eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open ever so slightly as he chases your shared pleasure. You cup his cheek and brush the pad of your thumb across his lip and he opens his eyes to gaze down at you, shimmering ruby eyes overwhelmed by blown out pupils.

Sylus moans against your lips as he feels you tensing "if you're close just let go, I'm right here with you my dove" and it's enough to send you keening into your second orgasm, your walls rippling and clenching down, meeting the resistance of his hard flesh. His pace doesn't relent as he strokes you through your pleasure, feeling yourself gushing onto the sheets as the lewd sounds of him slapping into your wetness echo in the room.

As his eyes lose focus and his hips start to hitch, you wrap your legs tighter around him, trapping him deep into you and you slide your arms up around his neck, pulling him down so his head is buried in the curve of your jaw. Your ear is full of his hot ragged breaths and his moans and you lean in, purring back in his ear.

"Gooooood boy....you're everything I want Sylus".

His head snaps backwards with a loud, gutteral moan and his eyes widen in shock for at your unexpected praise as he starts to seize inside you, orgasm flooding your walls in scalding bursts as he tries in vain to keep thrusting. Panting heavily, Sylus lowers his weight down onto your hips a little and props himself on his forearms, staring into your eyes, searching you for any discomfort, kissing your lips gently when he doesn't find it.

"That was a dirty trick Y/N," he laughs, kissing you again. "It was a dirty trick and I loved every second of it."