#<- since I get the feeling you’re going to be sticking around

[pucksandpower]

Wagification

Max Verstappen x analyst!Reader

Summary: your job was slowly crushing your soul and stealing your sanity … until Max showed you the pleasure to be found in letting yourself be cherished and cared for (or in which a chronically overworked Sky Sports analyst becomes a WAG)

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the Monaco sunshine bright and warm on your face. Max comes around and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You ready for this?” He asks, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, though your stomach is fluttering with nerves. It’s been nearly a year since you were last at a Grand Prix, and so much has changed. You glance down at the massive diamond on your left hand, still not quite used to seeing it there.

Max kisses your temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Hand-in-hand, you make your way into the paddock. Immediately you’re assaulted by the familiar sights and sounds — mechanics yelling, engines revving, reporters gesturing to their cameras. It’s like you never left.

You keep your sunglasses on and your head down, hoping to avoid notice. The last thing you want is to be bombarded by your old coworkers. As a data analyst for Sky Sports F1, you knew everyone in the paddock. But you walked away from it all for Max and you aren’t sure what kind of reception awaits you now.

“Max! Max Verstappen!” You hear a female voice call out. You suppress a groan as you recognize it as belonging to Emma, one of the network’s top reporters. She hurries over, dictaphone in hand. “Max, can I get a quick interview for the pre-race show?”

“Sure,” Max says easily. He keeps holding your hand, drawing you forward. “Just make it quick, yeah?”

Emma nods, then seems to notice you for the first time. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m Emma Walsh, with Sky Sports.” She sticks her hand out with a friendly smile.

You hesitate a second before shaking her hand. “Y/N,” you say simply, not offering your last name.

Emma’s eyes widen behind her glasses and she leans in for a closer look. “Wait a minute, I know you ...” Her jaw drops open. “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

You give a little shrug. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” Emma practically shouts. “I can’t believe it! We all thought you fell off the face of the earth after you left Sky. What happened to you?”

Max slides an arm around your waist. “She fell for me,” he says with a grin.

Emma’s eyes bug out even more as she takes in your designer dress, heels, and rock on your finger. “You mean … you and Max ...”

You nod, feeling yourself blush. “About a year ago, yeah.”

“Wow.” Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “Just … wow. I mean, look at you! You look incredible!”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. Your style has certainly changed since your Sky Sports days of sensible pantsuits. As an analyst, you had lived in jeans, flats, and minimal makeup, your hair always pulled back in a simple ponytail. Now your hair falls in soft waves over your shoulders, and you’re wearing a floaty floral maxi dress and strappy heels. You went from broadcasting racing stats to being a WAG almost overnight.

“Thanks,” you say, your cheeks growing even warmer. “It’s really good to see you, Emma.”

“You too!” She grins. “I have so many questions, but I better let you go for now. Don’t want to keep the championship leader waiting.” She winks at Max. “We’ll catch up later, yeah? Drinks tonight to celebrate your return?”

“Sure, sounds good.” You smile, thankful she’s not pressing for more details now. Emma waves and heads off in search of her next interview.

Max keeps his arm around you as you continue through the paddock. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs.

You let out a shaky laugh. “One down, about a hundred more to go.”

Over the next hour you run into what feels like every person you used to work with. They all react with similar shock at the former paddock nerd turned glamorous girlfriend of the reigning four-time World Champion.

You chat briefly with Will, who stutters over his words and goes bright red when you say hello. He had the biggest crush on you back when you worked together. Sarah can’t stop gushing over your ring. Tom tells you how weird it is not to see you hunched over a laptop crunching numbers.

The encounters leave you feeling drained, but also relieved. Your old coworkers seem genuinely happy for you, not resentful like you had worried. They don’t pry too much into how exactly you went from reporting race stats to ending up with Max Verstappen. That’s a story for another time.

Eventually you make it to the Red Bull garage, where you let out a long breath. “Phew, I survived.”

Max grins and pulls you close. “You were amazing. And you look beautiful, as always.” He nuzzles your neck.

You smile and loop your arms around his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how happy I am whenever I’m with you?”

“Mmm, maybe once or twice.” Max kisses you softly. “But feel free to keep reminding me.”

“Ahem.” Christian Horner clears his throat from behind you. “If you two can pause the PDA for a moment, we have a race to focus on.”

You spring apart, blushing furiously at being caught by Max’s team principal. Max just laughs and slings an arm around your shoulders.

“Lighten up, Christian. I’m allowed to kiss my fiancée.”

Christian shakes his head, but he’s fighting a smile. “Indeed you are. But perhaps when there aren’t cameras around?” He nods over your shoulder.

You turn to see several photographers zooming in, no doubt dying to get shots of the paddock’s newest it couple. You bury your face in Max’s shoulder.

“Ugh, no privacy anywhere,” you grumble.

Max kisses your hair. “It’s not so bad. Just part of the deal when you’re with me, remember?”

You smile up at him. “Very true. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

The day passes in a blur of activity. Max has various sponsor obligations and media commitments. You stick close by his side, learning how to avoid the cameras and deflect the constant questions about your relationship. Being the center of attention still feels strange, but you’re getting better at handling it.

During Max’s autograph session, you chat with some of the other drivers’ girlfriends and wives. They give you tips on dealing with the madness. You’re touched by how kind and welcoming they are.

“It takes some getting used to,” Alex Albon’s girlfriend, Lily, says. “But once you figure out how to focus on what really matters, the rest just becomes background noise.”

You nod. Your priority is Max. Everything else is just part of the ride.

***

One Year Ago

You sink down onto a stack of tires behind the Red Bull motorhome, finally letting the tears fall. This weekend in Barcelona has been a nightmare so far. Your team at Sky Sports is chronically understaffed, so you’ve been working 18 hour days analyzing data and prepping stats graphics.

You’re exhausted, frustrated, and seriously questioning your career choices.

On top of that, you just found out that your coworker and boyfriend Jamie has been cheating on you for months with one of the new junior reporters. You feel like such an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

You just need a few minutes to yourself to cry it out before plastering a smile back on and soldiering through the rest of the weekend. You hear footsteps approaching and quickly dab at your eyes with your sleeve, but it’s too late.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ...” The voice trails off awkwardly.

You glance up to see none other than Max Verstappen standing there, a look of concern on his face. Great. The last thing you need is Formula 1’s wunderkind catching you bawling behind the motorhome.

You scramble to your feet, trying to compose yourself. “Um, hi. No worries, I was just ...” You trail off, at a loss for how to explain.

Max steps closer, head tilted. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His kindness makes the tears threaten again. You stare down at your scuffed sneakers, embarrassed.

“I’m fine, really. Just had a bad day. You know how it goes.” You force a weak laugh.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Here, come sit for a minute,” he says gently, guiding you back over to the stack of tires.

To your surprise, he sits down next to you in his designer jeans and Red Bull Racing hoodie like it’s no big deal. You would laugh if you weren’t still fighting more tears.

“I’m Max, by the way.” He smiles and holds out his hand.

You shake it weakly. “Yeah, I know. I mean, uh, I’m Y/N.” You blush. Smooth.

Max either doesn’t notice or is too polite to comment. “So Y/N, what has you so upset? Boyfriend troubles?” He raises an eyebrow knowingly.

You let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah, something like that. The idiot’s been cheating on me it turns out.” Saying it out loud makes the hurt swell back up.

Max shakes his head angrily. “What a dick. I don’t understand guys who treat girls like that. You deserve so much better, Y/N.”

The genuine outrage on your behalf makes you smile a bit through the tears. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate that.”

He nods. “Any guy would be lucky to have a girl as pretty and smart as you. This loser doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Now you really can’t help blushing. You’re used to being called a lot of things — nerdy, awkward, obsessive about stats — but no one’s ever called you pretty before. Especially not a kind, cute, and famous race car driver.

You dip your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously. “You’re very sweet to say that.”

Max bumps your shoulder with his. “Just calling it like I see it.”

You chat for a few more minutes about nothing in particular. Max is easy to talk to, and makes you laugh with funny stories about mishaps in the garage. By the time you hear your boss calling your name, you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie and your tear-stained face.

“Shit, I have to get back to work,” you say, standing quickly and grabbing your laptop bag. “Thanks for listening, Max. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

“Of course.” Max stands too, shoving his hands in his pockets. He seems reluctant to end the conversation. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around again this weekend?”

You give him a curious look, wondering why he’d want to see you again after witnessing that mess of emotions. But he looks sincere. “Yeah, maybe! I’m around if you need any stats analysis or data work.” You tap your temple. “Numbers nerd, at your service.”

Max grins. “Good to know. Take care, Y/N.” With a little wave, he heads off, leaving you staring after him in surprise.

The rest of the day you keep replaying those moments with Max in your head, unable to focus. Why did he seem so interested in a frumpy data analyst having a meltdown? You can’t make sense of it.

By the time qualifying ends on Saturday, you’re practically dead on your feet. Your eyelids keep drooping as you pack up your equipment. Maybe you’ll just sleep under your desk tonight instead of walking all the way to the hotel.

“Long day, huh?”

You jerk awake to see Max leaning in the doorway of your makeshift office, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He looks annoyingly energetic and put together compared to your disheveled state.

“Uh, yeah.” You smooth your hair back,feeling self-conscious. Why does he have to catch you looking like such a mess yet again? “Just have about a million graphics to finish before tomorrow’s broadcast. The glamorous life of a data analyst,” you say wryly.

Max frowns. “They keep you here this late doing all the work yourself?”

You sigh, rubbing your grainy eyes beneath your glasses. “Unfortunately yes. We’re way understaffed, but it’s not like they’ll give us more budget to hire help.”

Max shakes his head. “That’s unacceptable. You deserve so much better than this.”

The kindness in his voice makes you suddenly emotional again. You bite your lip, willing yourself not to tear up at work twice in one day.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll be okay though, once I get some sleep ...” You know you don’t sound convincing.

Max appears to think for a moment, his brow furrowed. “You know what, enough of this. Come on.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and gently tugs you to your feet.

“W-what? Where are we going?” You stammer, heartbeat quickening.

“We’re getting out of here. You’re clearly exhausted and need a break.” Max keeps hold of your hand as he leads you from the office.

“But-but my work … I have to finish-” Even as you protest, you let him continue pulling you along. A rebellious part of you is thrilled at this sudden adventure.

“It can wait. Right now, we’re getting some food and drinks in you so you actually have energy left for tomorrow.” Max winks at you as you exit the paddock into the cool night air. “Trust me.”

And despite barely knowing this man, you realize you do trust him. Max guides you around the corner to a lively tapas bar, chatting all the while about random topics to make you laugh. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Over shared plates of patatas bravas and fizzy cocktails, you find yourself opening up to Max in a way you never do with people you just met. But his kindness and openness make you feel comfortable. He tells you more about life as an F1 driver, the pressures and perks.

“It must be amazing getting to travel all over the world racing cars,” you muse after your second cocktail. “Like a dream.”

“Part of it is, yeah.” Max smiles wryly. “But it can also be lonely. Never really putting down roots anywhere. Hard to meet people outside the racing bubble, you know?”

You nod thoughtfully. Under the playboy racer exterior, it seems there’s a down-to-earth guy who just wants connection. On impulse, you cover his hand with yours and give it a squeeze.

“Well, you’ve got a friend here now if you ever need company at a race.”

Max turns his palm over to link his fingers through yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His smile is so warm and genuine, you feel your cheeks heat.

By the time you stumble back to your hotel, you’re laughing and chatting with Max like old friends. When you get to your door though, you blink blearily and sway on your feet — the long day and alcohol hitting you hard.

Max steadies you with a hand on your waist. “Whoa there. You gonna make it okay?”

You wave a hand drunkenly. “Oh yeah, totally fiiiine ...” Your balance wavers again. Okay, maybe not so fine.

Max bites his lip, seeming to have an internal debate. “Alright, slight change of plans. You’re in no state to be left alone right now.”

In one smooth motion he scoops you up bridal-style. You make a very dignified squeaking noise and clutch his shoulders.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re safe for the night.” He grins down at you. “You can stay in my suite where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But … people will think ...” Even tipsy, you know spending the night in Max Verstappen’s hotel room is probably a bad idea.

“Let them think whatever. I’m being a gentleman, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes melts your feeble protests. You really are in no state to be left alone.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Okay fine, you win. But just for tonight!”

Max chuckles, carrying you towards the elevator. “Deal. We’ll get you sobered up and rested for tomorrow.”

You have vague impressions of a plush suite, being tucked into cool satin sheets and handed water and pills for your headache. Max brushes hair off your face with a lingering touch. “Get some sleep, Y/N. I’m right next door if you need me.”

His kindness brings tears to your eyes again, but happy ones this time. As you drift off surrounded by his scent, you think dazedly that maybe this race weekend hasn’t been so terrible after all.

In the morning, waking up in Max Verstappen’s hotel bed, you at first think it was all some crazy dream. Then the smell of brewing coffee draws you out to the living room, where Max stands in the kitchenette.

“Morning! I ordered us some breakfast.” He hands you a mug, smiling softly.

Daylight streaming through the windows makes last night’s events seem even more surreal. You feel suddenly shy as memories return. A part of you wishes you could stay here in this peaceful bubble with him forever, away from the outside world.

But reality calls, as you both have jobs to return to. Max convinces you to eat some food and take more pain meds before he walks you back to your own room to shower and change.

At your door he pulls you into a gentle hug. “Take care of yourself today, okay Y/N? And if you need another break or company again, you know where to find me.” He presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead that sends tingles through your entire body.

Somehow you make it through the day fueled by Max’s kindness and the smallest hope this could lead to more. You catch sight of him striding through the paddock, fans clamoring for his attention. His eyes always seem to find you though, lighting up with that warm smile.

After the race, you’re back in your makeshift office trying not to fall asleep at your desk before the last minutes of broadcasts. When you walk outside into the golden hour sunset though, Max is waiting for you.

“So, ready for round two at the tapas place to celebrate my win?” He bumps your shoulder playfully.

You grin up at him, this beautiful boy who inexplicably wants to spend all his free moments with you. “Definitely. Bring on the croquetas.”

Laughing together, you start making your way there. And though you don’t know what this budding connection will lead to, you’re ready to find out.

***

Nine Months Ago

You snuggle deeper into Max’s arms with a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest. The lights are dim and music plays softly in the background of his hotel suite. Rain patters against the windows, making it the perfect night to get cozy indoors.

Being wrapped up with Max like this, away from the chaos of the race weekend, has become your favorite place to be over the past few months. After that impulsive first night in Barcelona when he took care of you, you started spending more and more time together.

What began as a supportive friendship soon turned into dates, kisses, and eventually becoming official boyfriend and girlfriend. You still can’t believe that Max Verstappen, Formula 1 superstar, wants to be with a plain data analyst like yourself. But from the way he looks at you — like you’re the most captivating person in the world — you don’t doubt his sincerity.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” Max murmurs, trailing his fingers slowly up and down your arm.

You smile and nuzzle his neck. “Mmm, I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

His hands drift up to stroke your hair and you practically purr, eyes drifting shut. Max kisses the top of your head. “I mean it though, Y/N. Being with you makes me so happy.”

You lift your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “You make me happy too, Max. I-” You cut off with an enormous yawn that you fail to stifle in time.

Max chuckles. “Am I boring you over here?”

“No no,” you insist around another yawn. “I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open tonight.”

It’s true. As blissful as you feel cuddled up with Max, you’re utterly exhausted. This weekend has been nonstop work with little sleep. By the time you wrapped the Sky broadcasts up for the night, you could barely see straight.

Max brushes a strand of hair back from your face, his expression growing serious. “You’re completely worn out, schatje. I hate seeing you push yourself to the breaking point like this.”

You give him a tired smile. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to the long hours by now. Occupational hazard.” It comes out less convincingly than you intended.

Max’s frown deepens. He shifts around to face you, cradling your cheek in his palm. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it, Y/N. Your bosses take advantage of your dedication. It’s not right.”

You bite your lip, not meeting his earnest gaze. Deep down you know he’s correct, but you don’t know what else to do. This career has been your life for years now.

Max gently turns your face back to his. “You deserve so much better. You keep giving everything to this job and they just keep demanding more. When’s the last time you took a real break?”

You look down, feeling the prickle of tears. You can’t even remember your last vacation or rest day. “It’s okay, really ...” you whisper half-heartedly.

“No, it’s not.” Max’s voice is firm but caring. He tips your chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t stand seeing you being taken advantage of. It makes me want to take care of you properly, the way you should be.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his gaze. Being taken care of and cherished so deeply is new for you. You don’t know how to respond.

Max seems to take your silence as uncertainty. “Just think about it, liefje. You could finally put yourself first and do what makes you happy instead of what makes Sky Sports happy.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Doesn’t a break to rest and recover sound nice?”

You close your eyes with a shaky exhale, admitting to yourself just how badly you need it. Your health and mental wellbeing have been steadily declining under the relentless stress.

“It really does sound nice,” you whisper. A few tears leak out beneath your lashes.

Max kisses them away tenderly, holding you close. “Shh I know, baby. You’re burning yourself out trying to do the impossible. Anyone would be exhausted.”

You cling to him, sniffling. “But it’s my job, my career. I can’t just walk away ...” Even as you say it, the prospect doesn’t seem as scary as it once did. Not if you get to have this, being wrapped in Max’s love and care.

“You can walk away from anything that’s making you suffer. You’re so much more than this job. And you’ll never have to worry or want for anything ever again.” His tone drips with promise.

You lean back to search his face. “What do you mean?”

Max smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “I mean, I’ll take care of you. If you leave your job to focus on yourself and our relationship, you will want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes go wide. “You mean … quit working altogether and just … be with you full time?”

Max nods, still smiling. “It can be that simple if you want. No more crazy hours and stress. Just let me spoil you and give you the life you deserve. What do you say?”

Your pulse races as you imagine it. No more coming home at 2 am and collapsing, living off vending machine snacks. Instead you could be leisurely mornings with Max, seeing the world together, doing activities you actually enjoy instead of endless stats analysis ...

It sounds idyllic. But could you really just stop working and let Max support you? Would people judge you for it?

As if reading your mind, Max says “Ignore whatever anyone else might think. This is about what’s right for you and makes you happy. I’m sure of this, Y/N. Please trust me.”

His eyes radiate so much love and certainty. Slowly you nod, feeling a weight lift from your chest.

“Okay,” you whisper. “If you’re sure then … I trust you, Max.”

Joy spreads across his face. He kisses you deeply, pouring all his feelings into it. When he finally pulls back you’re both breathless.

“You won’t regret this, schatje. I’m going to take such good care of you from now on.” Max strokes your hair, eyes shining. “No more exhaustion and stress. Just being together and enjoying life. It will be amazing.”

You truly believe it as you drift off, safe in his arms. No more pressure to single-handedly carry Sky Sports’ data analysis. From now on, you can just be his … and find yourself again.

The next day you take a deep breath and knock on your boss’ door. Within minutes, you’ve quit your job and ended a years long chapter. It feels bittersweet but right as you box up your belongings from your little makeshift office. This time when tears prick your eyes, they’re from overwhelming relief.

Max is waiting to pick you up, greeting you with a spinning hug and long kiss. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so much happier and healthier from now on, I just know it.”

You hug him tight, burying your face in his neck. “I already feel lighter. This was the right choice.”

And it truly is. As you jet off to a tropical island just the two of you that weekend, it feels like a new life.

The days pass in a dreamy haze — sleeping in, long massages, breakfast in bed courtesy of Max, sunset walks on the beach holding hands. He delights in pampering you with gifts, gourmet meals, and your every whim met often before you even speak it.

“I could get used to this,” you sigh contentedly as you lounge together in a cabana, sipping fruity cocktails.

Max smiles and nuzzles your neck. “That’s the idea. You’ll never lift a finger except when you want to from now on.”

It amazes you how he transforms from fierce competitor on the track to this caring, protective boyfriend behind closed doors. He seems to find his greatest happiness in making sure you’re thoroughly spoiled.

You do occasionally think of the drastic shift your life has taken. But any flicker of doubt is erased by Max’s love and devotion. He’s given you freedom from exhaustion and anxiety. You’ve never felt more adored.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper one night as you sway together on the balcony under the stars, your silk robe fluttering around you.

Max gazes at you like you hold the secrets of the universe. “You just had to be yourself, schatje. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

He takes your breath away with slow, passionate kisses until you meltingly agree to take things inside. Your first time together is everything you imagined and more.

Afterwards, lying entwined with Max stroking your hair, you have never felt more whole. You found in each other what you needed most — care, understanding, and unwavering love.

This blissful new life together has only just begun.

***

A Few Hours Ago

You hum to yourself as you flip through the designer outfits in your massive walk-in closet, selecting options for the upcoming race. This will be your first time attending a Grand Prix on Max’s arm and you want to look perfect.

As you sift through rows of Chanel, Dior, Valentino, and Prada, you feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Need any help choosing?” Max asks, nuzzling your neck.

You lean back into him with a smile. “I was just trying to narrow it down. I want to look nice for your big weekend.”

Max turns you in his arms, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. “Schatje, you could show up in sweatpants and you’d still be the most beautiful woman there.”

You scrunch your nose. “But it’s Monaco! I need to look at least semi put-together.”

“It’s impossible for you to look anything but,” Max declares, stealing a quick kiss. “You always look perfect to me.”

You swat his chest but can’t help grinning. His constant compliments and admiration still give you flutters even after months together.

Taking your hand, Max comes to stand before the endless clothing options. “Okay, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

You pull out two of your favorites: a sleek black Balmain jumpsuit with a deep neckline and waist cutouts, and a shimmering floral Givenchy maxi dress.

“Ooh, these are both amazing,” Max says, fingering the luxe fabrics. “That jumpsuit would show off your sexy legs, but this fabric is so pretty with your skin tone ...”

You chew your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’m torn too. What’s your vote?”

Max pretends to scrutinize them closely before breaking into a smile. “Well you know I love you in anything. Or nothing,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes and swat him with a hanger. “Behave! I need actual fashion advice please.”

“Okay okay.” Max puts on an exaggerated serious expression. “The Givenchy dress is very classy and princess-like. But I love the way this Balmain hugs your curves.” To demonstrate, he traces a hand along the waist and down your side.

You shiver pleasantly at his touch. “Mmm, good point ...”

Max leans in close behind you, hands resting on your hips. “Imagine me peeling it off of you after my win.” He presses a kiss below your ear.

You melt back into him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Well when you put it that way ...”

“The dress would be pretty easy access too though.” Max slides his hands under the fabric across your thighs teasingly.

You gasp and swat him away again, laughing. “Okay stop distracting me! I really do need to pick.”

Max relents with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you win. I officially vote for the dress. It’s sexy yet elegant, just like you.”

You smile and give him a peck on the lips. “Now, what about bags and shoes?”

You move through your endless options as Max offers his input. He has a surprising eye for fashion despite his own relaxed, sporty style.

“This one matches the best.” He selects a sleek black crocodile Birkin. “Classy and understated.”

You turn the bag over in your hands. “Ooh I forgot I had this one. Good call!”

After picking strappy heels to complete the look, you start browsing your jewelry selection.

“That’s a lot of shiny stuff,” Max remarks, eyes roving over the boxes of diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and more.

You arch an eyebrow. “Says the one who got carried away with the jewelry purchases ...”

Max just grins and pulls you close. “I want you to have it all. You deserve to be spoiled.” He captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum happily against his mouth before pulling back. “Will you help me pick something?”

“Hmm let’s see ...” Max peruses the options before selecting an elegant diamond necklace. “Yeah, this one is perfect. Really complements the dress.”

He fastens it carefully around your neck, meeting your eyes in the mirror with a smile. His gaze trails down your body as you model the full outfit together.

“You look absolutely incredible, liefje. Every man in Monaco will be drooling over you.”

You turn to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Well I only care about impressing one man.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

Max’s hands find your waist again, warm on your exposed skin. “Oh trust me, I am very impressed. And the second we’re alone after the race this outfit will be on the floor.”

You laugh as he nuzzles into your neck, nipping lightly. Somehow, you manage to fall more in love with Max every day.

You eventually disentangle, needing to actually get ready for the day ahead.

“What should I wear in the meantime?” You muse, fingers drifting over the designer options.

Before you can choose, Max comes up behind you and starts guiding a silk robe onto your shoulders.

“How about nothing at all? I’m enjoying this view already,” he murmurs against your skin as he wraps the sash loosely around your waist.

You lean back into him with a hum of pleasure. “Well if you insist ...”

Max takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you back against the pillows. He undoes the robe just enough to expose your body as he trails kisses everywhere. “Mmm yes, this is much better than any outfit.”

You run your fingers through his hair, arching into his touch. “What happened to getting ready for the race?” You breathe.

Max pauses his kisses just below your navel to flash a wicked grin up at you. “Race day can wait for a few more minutes. Right now I want to appreciate my gorgeous girl.”

You have zero arguments with that logic. With a happy sigh, you surrender to his skilled and eager mouth, letting all other concerns fade away. Everything else will have its turn — being worshiped by Max is the only thing on your schedule this morning.

Eventually though, you manage to dress and make your way to the circuit. As you ride through the streets together on the way, Max keeps an arm curled tightly around you.

“You know, despite the fancy clothes and jewelry, you’re still the same humble, kind-hearted woman I fell for,” Max says, kissing your temple. “All that other stuff just enhances your inner beauty.”

You smile and squeeze his hand as you lift your lips to meet his. “You always know just what to say.”

You keep your chin up and shoulders back as you step onto the harborside track that will soon be swarming with VIPs. With Max by your side, you have everything you need — now and always.

***

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

The cheers of the crowd echo in your ears as you watch Max pass the chequered flag, securing his win. Your heart swells with pride and love as he pulls the car over to parc fermé and hops out, immediately searching for you on the other side of the barriers.

The second his eyes land on yours, his face lights up with that smile that melts you every time. He’s barely stepped out of the car before you launch yourself into his arms.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you,” you breathlessly exclaim.

Max laughs and pulls you closer. “I’m just happy to win it for you, liefje.”

Still holding you against his chest, he claims your mouth in a fierce celebratory kiss as the team and cameras swarm around. Your world narrows to just the feeling of his lips on yours, his race suit damp with sweat under your palms.

When you finally break for air, foreheads touching, Max murmurs “I love you so much. This one was for you.”

Your answering smile feels brighter than the Monaco sunshine. “I love you too. You were incredible today.”

The podium ceremony and interviews pass in a euphoric blur. Max keeps you tucked close to his side whenever he can, his arm firmly around your waist. He only has eyes for you despite the chaos surrounding him.

Finally escaping to the privacy of his driver’s room in the Red Bull motorhome, Max properly ravages you up against the door. The heady mix of victory and desire is intoxicating.

Much later, surrounded by empty champagne bottles with Max nuzzling lazy kisses across your bare shoulders, you hear a tentative knock.

“Decent?” Comes Emma’s teasing voice.

“Just a minute!” You call out, scrambling for your discarded dress.

Max pouts adorably as you wriggle back into it. “Do we have to go out? I’m enjoying having you all to myself ...”

You smile and kiss him sweetly. “Soon baby. But let’s celebrate with some friends first.”

Max sighs but nods, taking your hand as you go open the door. Emma’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in your thoroughly debauched state, but she politely doesn’t comment.

“Y/N! There you are! Oh, and congrats on the win,” she says to Max before turning back to you. “We’re all heading to Jimmy’z for the afterparty. You have to come!”

You hesitate, glancing at Max. “Oh, actually we already have plans ...”

“Come on, it will be like old times! We can squeeze you both in, I’m sure,” Emma pleads. Your former colleagues are beckoned over — Tom, Will, Sarah, and others waving excitedly.

Their eager faces make you pause, but Max just chuckles and slides an arm around your waist. “No need for squeezing into crowded clubs. I’ve already reserved some VIP booths so we can party properly.” He winks down at you.

“Oh! Well in that case, we’ll see you there.” Emma looks impressed. The others chatter excitedly as they head off to get ready.

You grin up at Max, arms looped around his neck. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Only the best for you, beautiful.” He kisses you softly before you head off hand-in-hand.

After making yourselves presentable again, you set out into the Monaco night. The Circuit de Monaco is still abuzz with energy, music and laughter pouring from every corner.

The line outside Jimmy’z stretches far down the block. But the bouncer immediately waves you through with a respectful “Mr. Verstappen, this way please.”

You exchange a smile with Max, who keeps you tucked close against his side. It still feels surreal being ushered into exclusive areas that once intimidated you. Now it’s your glamorous new normal.

“Y/N, you made it!” Emma jumps up and hugs you tight. She eyes your designer outfit and perfectly styled hair. “Damn, look at you! Got that WAG glow going on.”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. “Oh, thanks! Just trying to look the part, I guess.”

You chat and laugh with Emma and your former coworkers as music pulses around you. When the Go-Go dancer comes by with a tray of sparklers, you impulsively grab two, popping one in your mouth and handing the other to a wide-eyed Emma.

She fumbles to light hers, watching as you tilt your head back and laugh, little sparks showering your face.

“Girl, you are wild tonight!” Emma has to shout over the music. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You just smile and rummage through your Birkin for lipstick to touch up, crossing and uncrossing your legs that sport sky-high Louboutins. Your time working 18 hour days hunched over a laptop feels like another lifetime.

Eventually needing a break from the noise, you head to the bar to refresh your drink. Emma joins you, peering at the menu.

“Damn, I can’t even pronounce half this stuff,” she laughs. “What are you thinking of getting?”

You scan the options. “Mmm, maybe the Dom Pérignon Rosé? Sounds nice.”

Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “You really have gone full glam. I don’t think I ever saw you drink anything but Heineken at the track.”

You scoff, “Well we didn’t exactly have champagne on offer in our part of the paddock.”

You smile politely as the bartender brings your drink over. Emma is still eyeing you curiously.

“What?” You ask, laughing under her scrutiny.

“Nothing, just ...” She waves a hand at you. “Look at you with the designer outfit, Birkin bag, $500 drinks … you’re a whole new woman!”

You take a sip of the bubbly pink liquid and just smile. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, not at all!” Emma rushes to say. “You seem really happy. I’ve just never seen you like this before. You were always the practical, focused one. Now you look … fully embraced by the glitz.”

You lean against the bar, considering her words. She’s right — the old you never could’ve imagined fully embracing this lifestyle. But now you can’t imagine anything else.

“I am happier than I’ve ever been,” you tell her honestly. “With Max I’m free to enjoy life and not worry about anything. He takes care of it all.”

Emma raises her eyebrows. “So he just … pays for everything, and you live this champagne lifestyle together?”

You smile, fingering the enormous diamond on your left hand. “Basically, yes. And it’s as amazing as it sounds. I’ll never need to work or stress over bills or anything again.”

“Huh.” Emma takes a thoughtful sip of her own drink. “Don’t you ever miss the thrill of data crunching and racing strategy though?”

You consider it for a moment. The thought of long hours analyzing race stats and performance metrics makes your brain hurt.

“You know … I really don’t,” you realize. “I can barely even remember the programs and systems we used. And I like it that way.”

Emma nods slowly. You can tell she’s making an effort to be open-minded about your new life. Before she can respond, you feel the presence of someone behind you.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” Max murmurs, sliding his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck. “This party is nowhere near as fun without you.”

You lean back into him happily. His passion and desire for you still give you the same flutters as that first night together in Barcelona. You doubt that will ever change.

Turning in his arms, you accept the kiss he gives you, not caring that Emma is still standing there. Let her see how crazy you are for each other.

When you pull back, Max smiles down at you like you’re the only person in the crowded club. “Dance with me?” He extends a hand, already gently pulling you towards the dancefloor.

You let him lead you away without a backwards glance. Emma can think what she wants, but she can’t possibly understand your relationship with Max. You know this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Max hands you a fresh glass of champagne and keeps an arm curled around your waist as you sway together. The music and alcohol fill you with euphoria.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Max murmurs in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You smile up at him coyly. “Feel free to keep reminding me.”

Max’s answering grin is sinful. His hands travel your body as you move together. “I plan to show you later just how irresistible I find you.”

The night flies by in a blur of dancing, drinks, and stolen kisses in the shadows with Max. Your former colleagues party into the early morning, but eventually stumble back to their hotels.

You and Max retreat back to your shared apartment just as dawn breaks over the horizon. As promised, your dress hits the floor immediately. He ravages you with hungry kisses, urging you higher and higher until you cry out his name again and again.

After, wrapped securely in his arms, you sigh in utter contentment. The smooth sheets feel divine against your skin and Max gently strokes your hair as you doze against his chest.

“So I take it you had fun?” He asks, a smile in his voice.

You lift your head to grin at him. “It was amazing. Although ...” You bite your lip coyly.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Although what, schatje?”

“Well, this part is still my favorite.” You punctuate your point by straddling his waist again, bending to kiss him deeply.

Max groans appreciatively against your mouth, hands grasping your hips. “Mmm mine too. In fact, I don’t think we’re done celebrating yet ...”

Your lips part in ecstasy and your nails rake down his back as he takes you right to the edge again and again. Finally collapsing in a tangle of sweaty limbs, you’re both completely spent and blissful. You curl into Max’s side, eyes drifting shut.

“I love you so much,” you murmur, the words slurring together.

Max kisses your hair, stroking your back. “I love you too, Y/N. Being with you is a dream.”

You slip into peaceful dreams still wrapped in each other. The glitz and glamour of F1 life is fun, but nothing compares to the private world you share with Max.

You’ll face the crowds and cameras again soon. But right now, lost in Max’s embrace, you have everything you need.

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Six)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,964

Warning: Language, suggestiveness, rql sex (male receiving) grinding, neck kisses, dry humping, mentions of character death,night terror, blood, mentions of PTSD, anxiety

A/N: Man oh man what a silly fluffy slice of life spicy series we got! It would be a shame if something happened 😀—😈

*MDNI*

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Think that you were an easy-going person who got along well with everyone. Generally, you were easy-going unless someone fucked you over, then you were a bit salty. Manami Suda Was the only exception. You could not stand her guts. She would be the only person he would gladly hit with your car.

“Manami,” you spit back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Suguru is expecting me.”

“Mm, he didn’t mention anything to me. You would assume he would make his schedule.”

“Ha, funny, let me in.”

“Huh,” she purses her red-painted lips together. “Let me check with my client and see if he’s available. We’re both swamped.”

You roll your eyes, pushing open the door, poking your head. “Suguru, call your Hellhound off.” Manami presses herself to the side, trying to block you from getting further inside the apartment.

“Geto is busy at the moment, but he’ll call you later.”

“Busy my ass Suguru!!”

Upon hearing you call his name again, Suguru headed out of his makeshift studio. He was covered in different blue paint hues, smeared on his forearm and cheek. His eyes darted between you, trying to force your way inside before back at his agent, who was fighting against your attempts. Dark ice glitter with the amusement at how you were putting all your effort into trying to squeeze past her

“Manami, let her in.” He finally said with a chuckle. “Before she starts gnawing at the door frame.”

“Ha!” Manami sidestepped again just as you tried pushing yourself inside, resulting in you falling face forward with the yelp dropping the groceries.“Geto called you a termite.”

Wincing, you sat up, rubbing your chin. Suguru had better put an ad online for a new agent because his current one was about to disappear without a trace. “But she’s the cutest termite in the whole world.” The bluntness and flirty tone of his voice had both you and Manami glancing at him as he headed into the kitchen.

Since when did he start calling you cute around other people? That was usually something someone said about their partner, right? Not their best friend. More importantly, why the hell did you love it?

Manami was too stunned to speak as she gaped at her client before looking back at you. You felt her eyes on you, so you didn't know what any mature adult your age would do. You glanced back up at her and smiled as wide as you could before sticking your tongue out at her. She glared, nose pinching up in annoyance as she flipped you off with her sharp, manicured nails. To which you shot back, flipping her off with both hands as you sat up on your knees.

“Girls.” hearing Suguru call you both out stopped the childish faces and the middle fingers, but no amount of tone, yelling, or godly power could prevent the glaring daggers you gave each other.

“We’re fine, Geto.”

“Yeah, Suguru!”

“You shouldn't use his name so freely!”

“Oooh~ last time I checked, I’ve been his best friend for over a decade!”

Manami clenched her fists together. “Yes, I am aware of that. You make it a point to remind me of that every time I see you.” You stood up, putting the groceries in the kitchen before flopping onto the couch.

“Because you act like I should be courteous and cold to him! I've known him longer than you. So kiss my ass.”

“Geto!” Manami barked, her hair flowing as she looked into the kitchen. “Do you hear the way she's talking to me?”

Your eyes focused on the way Suguru washed paint off his arms. His hands brushed back stray dark strands of hair behind his gauged ears. “Manami, if you just let her in, she wouldn’t be in such a mood.” A certain pleasure settled in your stomach. “She’s always welcome in my apartment whether I’m working or not, you know that.” For some reason, your stomach twisted, and heat pooled between your legs as he told her pretty much to fuck off.

Suguru heard the faintest whimper from the direction of the living room. Looking through his lashes, he smirked, seeing your flushed face. God, you were so easy to rile up. For once in his career, he wanted to shove his agent out and pin you against the sofa. He wanted to pry open your thighs that were pressed together open. Desperate to see if you were as wet as you were a few days ago at breakfast. God Suguru wanted to taste you again, to make you cry on his tongue.

His cock twitched, and he realized now might not be the best time to be sporting a boner in the presence of professional company. So he turned the water in the sink to cold and threw it on his face. There would be a time to get a bit more intimate later. He needed to keep his composure and not eat you out with his agent in the room.

“Fine, but we aren’t done discussing business.”

“I know.”

You watched from the couch, noticing the annoyed look in Suguru’s eyes, and Manami stepped forward. “The aquarium called again; they want to know if you—”

“No.”

“Geto—”

“I said no.”

The aquarium? You blinked, sitting up and tilting your head. Did it have to do with his most recent painting of Riko?

Manami sighed, pulling her phone out. “They increased their offer for you to do the commission.”

Suguru was exceptionally talented. His paintings of dragons, creatures, and sceneries had gone viral in high school, earning him a full ride to art school. He was selling paintings, being commissioned, thriving, and getting paid to do what he loved. He, of course, had rules for commissions he took on from strangers and whatnot, but to deny an aquarium wasn’t like him.

“No,” Suguru repeated more firmly.

“You’d only be—”

A loud crash causes you and Manami to jump as Suguru throws his cup of paintbrushes into the sink. “Manami, no. That’s my final answer.” It was rare for Suguru to get pissed; he was usually well-tempered. So, for him to snap like that was out of character and meant he didn’t want to do whatever she had set up for him.

Manami sighed, grabbing her phone off the kitchen counter and shoving her cell phone inside. “I know it’s a reminder of the past, but it’s good money.” She slid expensive name-brand sunglasses on before turning on her heels with a strut in her step. “Think about it; I’m not sending the denial letter yet.” Without another word, she left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Well,” you started, pouting as you hummed, “she is a peach.”

“Yeah.” Suguru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before focusing his undivided attention on you. “So, uhm, what’s on the menus for dinner? I can help?” He grabbed the brown paper bags, beginning to unload them without another word.

You didn’t mean to pry about what was going on in his life. You knew him better than you knew himself at times. So, he would tell you if he wanted to talk about what was happening. The only time you got involved with what was happening during his work, you were utterly concerned about him and his well-being. So instead of saying anything, you just not at your head as the two of you made dinner together.

But the entire time we both stood in the kitchen silently in tune with each other, your mind kept drifting off to what exactly he was asked to paint. It seemed a little strange that he was asked to paint something at the aquarium, and his current canvas depicted Riko at the aquarium in Okinawa before the accident. That might be triggering his current nightmares, along with the fact that he has never truly forgiven himself for the accident that wasn’t his fault at all.

You knew he blamed himself for what happened. He wasn’t fast enough to push Riko out of the way when the car approached them. He saw her like a little sister. Watching the life fade from her eyes while he was fighting for his own life would traumatize anyone.

That sort of trauma never leaves. It lingers forever, which it had for your best friend. After the accident in her death, he started seeing a therapist every week. He’s on severe anxiety and depression medication, and for a while, his artwork took a very dark turn. He wouldn’t see anyone. He lost a ton of weight but always insisted that he was fine, just tired.

It wasn’t until he snapped when his nieces Nanako and Mimiko were in a car accident themselves that he lost all of his composure. he broke down having a mental episode. He nearly beat the ever-loving shit out of the man that caused the accident. The man had been remorseful, paying for everything from the car to the medical bills for the girls, but that wasn’t good enough for Suguru. He wanted to make him pay for what he had done. In a way, he saw it as the driver that caused Riko’s accident to pay for the pain the two of them went through.

Suguru was lucky enough to have you and your mutual friends by his side. All of you helped him get the help that he needed. You were there when he needed to talk or was having a rough day. That was one of the many reasons you both lived in the same apartment complex. He felt safe around you. Suguru knew he was with you. He was seen for who he was and for not being the man who couldn’t save his friend's life.

Despite it not being his fault at all.

And well, he had healed over the years,

Like anyone else living with that kind of trauma, he had his good days and his bad days from his sleeping over, insomnia, and how he reacted to Manami pushing him to do the mural at the aquarium. He was having a rough week.

After eating a delicious home-cooked meal and cleaning the kitchen, you sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television as Suguru gently ran his hand up and down your thigh. Some thriller played in the background; at this point, it was mindless background noise as your mind reeled, trying to think of what to say.

Your silence and uptight demeanor had Suguru’s dark eyes darting towards you every few seconds. There was something on your mind, something he knew you were contemplating saying. But much like you, he wasn’t one to pry. He knew in the last decade that you were upfront with him whenever you wanted to talk about an issue. But from the shyness in your touch to how you kept looking at him, he figured that maybe you wanted to make a move or ask him to teach you something new.

God, you were just so cute and shy. He wanted you to feel comfortable, to tell him what you wanted. But at the same time, he knew you. There was no way you would be upfront and ask home to do stuff with you or ask him to teach you more things. Until you were ready, he would have to continue making suggestions or ask how you felt and what you wanted to do.

Giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, your eyes dart in his direction. “Did you get all your rewrites done for Utahime? How did the meeting with her go?” Your face lit up.

“Oh, it went well; she loved what I had! She said my writing has improved.”

“That’s great! Do you get any time off? Like to relax that big brain of yours?”

With a pout, you collapsed into his side with a huff. “No, she wants the next chapter in two weeks. So I have to write it, have Nanami read it, edit it, and then I can send it to her.” The feeling of Suguru’s hand leaving your thigh left a trail of goosebumps in its wake as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Oh, well—do you need help with the next chapter? Or are there fewer spicy scenes in this one?”

You scoff, resting your chin on his upper arm. “That’s what you bookworms call sex scenes in books, right; spicy scenes?”

“Awee~ you do listen.”

“I listen when it’s you.”

You resist the urge to kiss him, opting for blushing instead. “Uhm, right! Yeah, so—“ you clear your throat, “it’s more plot than spice, but I’m not opposed to—ya’ know, adding spice.”

This was your way of telling him you wanted more without outwardly saying it. This was keeping your friendship safe. Besides, just because you didn’t use it in this chapter didn’t mean you wouldn’t use it in the future!

Suguru was slightly disappointed when you first said there were no spicy scenes in this current chapter. He felt like you did, not wanting to ruin your friendship. But to hear you say that you weren’t opposed to adding spice to your current chapter and all the worries and disappointment vanished. Suguru hummed, putting his hand behind his head and slowly licking his lips as he watched you sit up.

“Oh really now?”

“Mhmm~ I just don’t know what to add~ maybe you—” You slid your fingers down his ab’s, gently sliding them underneath the hem of his shirt. Your manicured nails gently ran over his happy chill, making Suguru twitch in anticipation. “Do you have a suggestion for what I could add to this chapter?”

“Mmm, well, you could always have Oaklynn go down on Ilsan, or you could have them dry hump or grind.”

You toyed with the waistband of his sweat, biting your lip as you felt his cock twitch, growing harder the more you rubbed the band. Your eyes were so focused on his pants that Suguru could hear the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach filled as you looked up, meeting his gaze. He swallowed hard at the lustful need burning in your eyes. It’s hard to believe you had never been kissed a week ago, and now you were playing with his waistband to his sweats so suggestively?

What the fuck was this life?

“Sugu—can I touch you?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

With his consent, you tugged his sweats down to rest over the top of his thighs, finding a tent in his boxers. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing the way your touch affected him. You knew his body was probably reacting naturally to an intimate touch. Part of you wish this might be more than a physical reaction deep down inside. But that was ludicrous because he was helping you out.

But maybe it could turn into something more you wouldn’t oppose.

“You’re already hard.” You said with a blush, your hand gently brushing over the hardening shaft in his boxers.

“What can I say? I have my beautiful best friend touching me.”

“Can this beautiful friend return the favor from the other day?”

Subaru chokes on his spit as you gently talk the band of his boxers down. If you want to, that shouldn’t be an issue. But you don’t have to return the favor! The cutest pout graces your lips as you reach out gently, grabbing his shaft and squeezing it. “Ooooh, fuck—”

“Oh! Sorry, did that hurt? I was trying to be a bit more confident!”

“N-No, it felt really good.”

“Oh! Okay, uhm—” You bite your lip in concentration, trying to mimic the moves. He had done when he first jerked off in front of you. “I want you to feel good.”

Subaru could not believe you were saying this. The same girl that hadn’t had an orgasm in her entire life less than a week ago. Was now stroking his cock with confidence in your eyes! There was no way he would ever extinguish that burning lust in your eyes. He would encourage you to do what you wanted if you were comfortable doing this because he would be lying to himself if he said that he hadn’t dreamed about something like this happening for as long as he could remember.

“The, by all means, feel free to keep going; it feels fucking great. Unless you need me to help tell you what to do?”

“No, I think I got this.” You pulled your hair back before situating yourself in between his legs, holding his shaft close to your mouth. “Just sit back and relax, okay?”

“Okay.”

Suguru watched with bated breath as you slowly leaned down. Your eyes were focused on his before your tongue darted out, kitten licking his tip. The man lost his shit right there. Suguru threw his head back, grunting as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Fuck, it felt good mentally and physically. Finally, have you been doing the things he had imagined doing since he was a teenager? It was better than he could’ve imagined. God, he wasn’t going to last long.

His tip's salty yet sweet taste made you more eager to take him in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around relishing in the sounds that escaped your best friends mouth. One of his hands gripped the back of his sofa while the other grabbed his shirt, tugging it tight. He looked so hot when drowning in pleasure; seeing him like that gave you a confidence boost. You had never done this before, but you had read plenty of erotic novels, and you knew how to eat a popsicle. Putting both of them together gave you an idea of what to do.

While his chest heaved up and down, eyes shut tight, you took the whole head of his cock into your mouth you hummed. That action alone made Suguru’s hips buck up with a whine. His thrusting, pushing his cock against the back of your throat, made your eyes water as you gagged around him. Almost instantly, Suguru pulled back out, sitting up on his elbows to look down at you with concern etched into his features.

“Fuck Princes, I’m sorry! Are you sorry?”

“Mhmm!” You hummed around him, making his jaw clench at the vibrations around him.

“F-Fuck—haaah—fuuuuck.” His hand slowly slid down, tangling in your hair, not forcing you down his shaft further. He just held onto you. “Fuck—”

You can’t help but stare up at him. The way his jaw drops, his eyes narrowing as they darken with lust. Watching him slowly lose himself to the pleasure had you squirming. You could feel yourself getting wet as the heat began to pool between your legs, urging you to keep going, to take him further into his mouth. So you did; inhaling through your nose, you took more of your best friend into your mouth, gagging slightly as he slid further down into your throat.

Suguru was utterly losing himself in the sensation of being buried in your mouth. I was so wet and tight, and you knew what you were doing. Despite being a virgin and never having a boyfriend, Suguru was thoroughly impressed with how well you were taking him. Your lips around his thick fat cock, taking him down your throat, had him teetering on the edge of his release like he was a virgin.

He dropped his arm off the back of his couch, covering his eyes. What the hell was happening to him? Why was it he could barely compose himself when he was around you?

You always had that effect on him. “Fuuuck—shit—” His fingers gently scratched your scalp as you took him deeper, bobbing your head up and down, making his cock wet with your saliva and his pre-cum. “Fuck~ you’re doing such a good job, pretty girl~ so good.” A rosy blush dusted Suguru’s cheeks as his chest heaved faster, the muscles in his abdomen twitching from the pleasure.

Pulling off his cock, you slowly lick the underside of it right against the vein. He had grazed when he would touch himself. The most sensitive part of his cock. A hiss passed through his lips while his hands remained tangled in your hair. You grinned, pressing gentle kisses over him, nibbling on the soft skin before your kitten looked at the leaking slit.

“Could you maybe— fuck my throat?”

If you hadn’t been squeezing his bass when you were, Suguru was afraid that he might cum all over your hand at your request. “W-What seriously?” Your request was not entirely out of left field. It still left him in stunned silence.

“Yeah, Ilsan is a bit rough, so I wanted to see what it was like?” When in reality, you just wanted to see him lose all of the control he was barely grasping.

“I can do that, but if it gets too intense, just tap my thigh, okay?”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to have Suguru grab onto your hair with both his hands and force his cock into your mouth. “M-Mmmphm!” as he slid his shaft over your tongue and down the back of your throat with a gentle thrust.

“Fuck yeah, Princess~ god, you must feel so fucking good~” he pulled his shaft out of your mouth, just about to hit the back of your teeth before he slammed back into you, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. “Nngh! Shit~ ooooh fuckin’ hell, that’s so good.”

“Mmm! Mmmhpm! Mmm!” You cried out each time his cock slid in and out of your mouth, making a mixture of drool and pre-cum leak out the sides of your mouth, dribbling down your chin and onto the couch beneath you.

“Oooh god—oooh fuck—haaaah!” A low moan sounds deep in your best friends chest. He lifted his head, watching his tears weld in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, a trail of mascara left on your pretty, beautiful cheeks. “Fuck—Princess, I’m going to—I’m gonna cum. Wh-Where do you—nngh!”

Upon hearing his orgasm was approaching him, you grabbed both of his thick thighs, squeezing them as you moved in tandem with his hand. Your head up and down as fast as you could without making yourself gag more. Your eyes were transfixed solely on him as tears blurred your vision. Suguru knew where you wanted him to cum—and it was down your throat.

“F-Fuck—I-I’m cu-cumming! Cumming!”

Spurts of his hot cum that had covered your hand days before now filled your willing mouth. It was salty but also strangely sweet. That might be because Suguru was always eating healthy and making sure to eat plenty of vegetables and fruit. You’d have to thank him for that later; right now, all you could focus on was how good he tasted all over your tongue.

You swallow every drop, only pulling away when Suguru’s grip on your hair loosens and rests on your head, gently stroking your hair back. He was grinning drunkenly as he watched you lick your lips, smiling down at him as you fixed his sweats. Once you were done, he yanked you down to rest on his chest as he continued to caress you with his hands gently.

“Are you sure you’ve never done that?” The tone of his voice was stern. “Because holy shit, you sucked the soul out of my dick.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, snuggling into his chest as you rested your chin on his sternum, watching him closely. “Yep, I’ve never done that.” He shook his head, taking a deep breath as he did. “Did I do a good job?”

“I just said you sucked my soul out of my cock; yes, you did a phenomenal job, Princess.”

You smiled sweetly, losing yourself in his stare as he leaned down to kiss you softly. For the briefest moments, you stiffened, but you found yourself melting into his kiss with a happy hum. This was the perfect way to research for your book.

That was the sort of way things went about for two weeks. Grinding, making out, oral sex, and nothing between you changed, aside from the constant need to be around each other. You both had been close before, but now you were practically inseparable.

Weekends were spent together, meals were shared as you worked together, or Suguru sketched in your apartments while you wrote at his place. Not only did your work improve during this change, but you could also see a change in Suguru. He looked less tired, wasn’t having any more nightmares, and just seemed genuinely happy.

God, what a time to be together.

A time where you were closer and happier. Things felt so good, and the more time you spent together, the more you began to worry less about your book and focus more on your relationship. You created different scenarios for your characters to spice things up for your ‘research.’ And you knew deep down that Suguru knew it was a bullshit excuse to hook up. You could see it in the way his dark eyes would twinkle with mischief before he agreed to do whatever you requested with no questions asked.

“Fuck!” You gasped out as Suguru ground him against your clothed sex. His hands were hooked under your knees, spreading them as he sensually ground to the low R&B playing through the speakers. “Fuuuck~ that feels good.”

“Heh—yeah, it does.” His lips attached to your neck sucking and kissing on the sensitive skin. “You always feel good~ so good~.”

You ran your hands through his dark hair, holding his mouth against your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He grunted, eyebrows knitting together as you whimpered his name.

Suguru’s fingers dug into your thighs, bucking faster, not intending to stop at all. Instead, he moved faster, making you cry out, tugging on the dark strands as she sucked on, leaving several hickies against your skin. God, he could get used to this. Domestic shit, making dinner, but losing yourselves in grazing touches and kisses on cheeks. Leaving the bell peppers on the cutting board uncut and the steak sitting in the fridge. The corkscrew was still embedded in the unopened bottle of wine as you ground against each other, inching closer and closer to sweet release.

“Suguru~ hah—“ your hands grip his shoulders, holding them tight as he grinds hard, faster, “c-close!”

Somehow, Suguru pulled his lips off your neck, allowing him to press his forehead against yours. “Yeah~ gonna cum, Princess~? Gonna cream your panties~?” You lean in, bringing down his bottom lip as you rock against him, matching his movements and speed.

“Yes~ I-I’m so close!”

“Then do it~ cum for me~” he kisses you deeply as he grinds faster and faster until you both are crying out against moving lips, eyes shut tight as waves of your orgasm wash over you. “Oooh fuck~!”

“Fuuuck~ fuck!” You cry out, feeling your panties grow wetter and wetter. “Oh my god, Sugu~” you pant against his kiss-swollen lips while he lazily nods.

“Yeah, shit.” He grumbles with a moan.

“I need to borrow some boxers or sweats.”

“Yeah? You make a mess?”

He teases you with a peck to your cheek as he gently releases his hold on your legs, helping you off his counter. “Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“Oh please, you’re as much to blame for this as me.”

Suguru presses another kiss against your cheek. “I’ll take the blame, but I’ll start on dinner if you want to go raid my closet for sweats.” The glimmer in your eyes had your best friend gently flicking your forehead. “Just sweats, none of my hoodies, dork.” That statement had you pouting as Suguru gently slapped your ass, pushing you forward.

“No fair.”

“Life ain’t fair; your notebook is on the dresser if you need to write notes.”

You give him a thumbs up as you head into his room, ignoring the glittery notebook and heading straight for the closet instead. The more often nights like this occurred, the more you didn’t care about taking notes or jotting down ideas. Instead, you find yourself wanting to spend every waking moment with Suguru.

Notebook aside, you stripped out of your clothes, folding them up, before grabbing a pair of his baggy gray sweats as his phone buzzed on his nightstand. Glancing down at the screen, you resisted the urge to gag as you saw Manami’s name appear.

“Eeew, Sugu, the troll you call an agent, is texting you!” You grab his phone, unlocking it as you return to the kitchen. The sound of chopped vegetables echoed off the walls as Suguru looked up at you. “Want me to read you what she said?”

“Yeah, it’s probably about this client she found.”

Opening the chat, you pull out the barstools at his breakfast bar before him and clear your throat. “Geto, the new client, loved the sketch you submitted, and he would like to proceed with the next steps for the painting to be done. He has paid in advance.” Suguru did a little fist bump before he slid the peppers into a sizzling pan. “I also wanted to discuss the offer from the Amanai Foundation. They will pay for our room and board for the four months we’ll be in Okinawa finishing the aquarium piece.”

The spatula falls from his hand as he turns to you, staring into your wide eyes and pale complexion staring at the phone. You blankly stare at the message as big tears form in your eyes. Suguru watchI in horror as tears stream down your cheeks.

“What does she mean you two are going to Okinawa for four months together?”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @maskedpacific

[cha-melodius]

💘 firstprince please :)

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss  (I skipped ahead on prompts so I could write the companion piece to this ficlet. if you were hoping for fake relationship, watch this space, I have another one of these hearts to do lol. read all the kiss ficlets)

Alex doesn’t know how he got himself into this situation.

To be fair, coming out was entirely his idea. It’d been too long since he let loose and had fun, so when a girl in his econ class told him about this party, he’d put on his tightest pair of jeans and crop top, styled his curls just so, and dragged Liam along with him for good measure (Alex loves his best friend, but the dude needs to get out more).

So far he’s had fun dancing, and he’s been hit on by plenty of very enthusiastic girls, but nothing’s really clicked. There’s something else thrumming under his skin that he can’t put a finger on. It didn’t really help that he nearly ran into Liam making out with Pez Okonjo on his way to the bathroom. Obviously it’s fine that he was, Alex knows (now) that Liam is gay, and he’s free to kiss whoever he wants. It’s not like Alex was jealous. If anything, it was kinda hot—they looked good together, Liam’s pale skin against Pez’s dark tones, which is frankly not a thought Alex is sober enough to deal with right now.

Alex is also not sober enough deal with running into Pez later, who has a tall, blond, ridiculously hot friend in tow this time. Blondie is wearing a plain button down and khakis, like he’s at a business lunch, but somehow the way his shirt is cuffed at the elbows and unbuttoned at the top to let his collarbones peek out is more alluring than most of the half-dressed coeds at the party. Then there’s the way his golden hair flops over his forehead and his blue eyes shine in the low light, and it’s a lot, ok? Fuck.

It’s honestly a bit of a relief when Alex gets dragged away and convinced to do some kind of scavenger hunt, which sounds kinda dumb, but whatever. It’ll keep his mind off Pez’s hot friend. He works his way down the list, taking shots and doing ridiculous dances and convincing people to give him their numbers (not hard), until he hits one in particular—make out with someone you met tonight.

He’s met plenty of people tonight. Lots of girls who’d probably be willing, honestly. Somehow, only one person sticks out in his head.

Apparently he’s not even fucking subtle about it, which is embarrassing. Liam catches him looking down at his list, then back up at Henry across the room, and slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Go on. Ask him,” Liam goads, grinning drunkenly at Alex. “I think he’s into you.”

As if on cue, Henry glances over at them, then quickly looks away again when he sees them staring.

“You’re on drugs,” Alex scoffs, trying and failing to shove him away as something inside his stomach turns over at the thought that Henry might be into him. It’s probably just the liquor. “Maybe he likes you.”

“Nah,” Liam says confidently. “You wanted a wingman. I’m winging. Wingmanning? I dunno, man. Just go kiss him, ok?”

Alex can feel his face getting hot. “Fuck off.”

Liam’s grin goes sharp and wicked. “I dare you.”

Fuck. The best friend dare is sacred. If Alex doesn’t do it, he’ll have to do something else later that’s like ten times worse. Fuck.

Alex crosses the room in some kind of daze, the rest of the party falling away around him. Is he really doing this? Apparently so. He stops by Henry’s elbow, and the other man turns to look at him.

“Hey,” Alex says. Amazing opening line, truly. Fuck, he’s an idiot.

“Alex, right?” Henry replies with a little smile. Alex nods. “What’s up?”

Alex swallows hard. “Can I kiss you?” he blurts. Henry’s eyes go wide, and Alex holds up the sheet of paper. “It’s a dare.”

“Oh,” Henry says, sounding almost disappointed.

“But also, like, you’re really hot and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and I’m not gay but I— I might be bi, I guess, I don’t really know because my best friend is gay and I never thought I was really into guys but I kinda want to kiss you, I mean, I really want to kiss you, if you’re into it, and oh my god, I’m such a fucking idiot, please forget I ever said any of this to you.”

Alex turns on his heel, ready to flee the house and probably the country, but Henry catches him by the arm and pulls him back. Pulls him in, firmly, so that Alex has to tip his head up, and then Henry’s kissing him. Softly at first, but Alex whimpers and opens his mouth, tilting his head to slot their mouths more firmly together, the taste of cheap booze and sugary mixers blending on their tongues. Henry gets a hand into his hair and Alex likes that even more, likes the way Henry surrounds him, likes the way Henry's waist feels under his palms. Never wants it to end, actually.

Henry does eventually pull back, though. Sadly. Alex promises he doesn’t whine.

“So,” Henry murmurs. He still hasn’t let Alex go, and Alex is entirely ok with that. “Thoughts?”

“I think I need another. Y’know. To gather more evidence.”

“Another kiss?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathes. “Maybe more than one.”

Henry laughs, low and warm, and he kisses Alex again.

[lesbianlores]

Two player games

Pair: Mean!Riri x Fem!reader

Contains: Strapslinger!Riri, overstimulation, exhibitionism?, caught, clingy!Riri, hair pulling.

Prologue: Riri has game nights regularly with her friends, since you had time today she offered for you to come and you gladly obliged.

━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━

As time passes, Riri becomes gradually more touchy, she refuses to keep her hands to herself. Riri always had a thing for making you excited in public, she loves the power she has over you. So, nearly any time there is an option to tease you, she will take it. (and you)

Both of your thighs were covered by a blanket, sitting on the floor with your backs resting on the bottom of the couch while playing the board game “Sorry,” with two of Riri’s friends, the other four were playing super smash bros on the other couch facing the tv.

Every time it was your turn to move your piece, you saw her glancing at the bust of your cleavage with your peripheral vision. You could feel her sliding her hand under the blanket for your thigh, sliding further up to your already-drenched shorts. Occasionally squeezing and rubbing with her thumb.

Once the game ended, everyone got together and started to debate what the next game would be. Riri, on the other hand, wanted to play with something else. The palm of her hand cupped your pussy through your clothes. With a smirk on her face, she pretended to be interested in the conversation.

“Uhh, I’m getting sleepy, can I take a nap in the guest room?” You asked.

Riri gave you a knowing look, because she knew you were far from ‘sleepy’

“Yeah that’s fine, Riri will show you where the room is.”

Without a word, she swiftly lifted herself from the floor, helped you up by your waist, and led you toward the room. Once the two of you got out of sight, she quickly shoved you against the wall, immediately sticking her tongue in your mouth into a filthy kiss. Her saliva melded messy with yours to the point that it oozed from the corners of your mouth.

She groped your hips aggressively, her breasts pressed against yours. Her groans were making your pussy a lake at this point, you tried desperately to grind yourself on her thigh, but she pulled herself from you. Riri then grabbed your arm rushingly and led you the rest of the way to the room, letting your arm go with a bit of force once you walked past the frame of the door. She shut the door behind her and locked it then turned around to face you.

“Ri-“

“You know what you were doin’ by putting on that busty ass shirt huh?” She interrupted.

“Strip.” She said with a fierce gaze.

You didn’t know how to respond, you were compelled. Not a thought in that pretty head of yours, but only the fear of what she’s capable of doing to you. You’re so stunned that you’ve been frozen in place, not moving a muscle. Riri has gotten frustrated at your lack of movement and took a step forward, clenching her jaw as a warning.

“Sorry.”

You uttered quietly before slowly taking the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You weren’t being a tease, you were intimidated, Riri’s dominance is nothing to be played with. She’s animalistic and short-tempered.

“C'mere.”

She hustled towards you, spun you towards the bed aggressively, then forced you on your stomach. Ri then tore your shorts down to your ankles and landed a cruel smack on your ass.

“You playin’ with me right? *smack*

“Do you want to get punished?” *smack*

“You like it when I’m mean to you? Is that what you want?” *smack*

You’re trying your best to maintain the volume of your voice but fuck, the pain is so overwhelming. Riri gently rubbed your sore ass before delivering yet another hard smack on it again.

“It’s okay, you ain't gotta say nothin’. I’ll give you what you want mama.”

Her warm hands left your body as you heard the clasp of her belt followed by the zip of her pants. Her strap dropped right on your ass, and your need for friction escalated. Naturally, you swayed your hips to maneuver it closer to where you wanted it. That was quickly interrupted once she slapped you again.

“Don’t fuckin' rush me.” She tugged your panties to the side, leaving your cunt nude to the cold waft of fresh air, you whined.

“Shut up.”

The irritation in her voice fell sharp to your ears. You plopped your head down in embarrassment then felt her slapping the head of the toy on your lips. Occasionally sliding it up and down from your hole to your clit. She held it still on your bud, then spread your ass with her free hand.

“Grind.”

Using your hips, you pressed yourself back and forth against her. Seizing your bottom lip once again and groaning in pleasure. The grasp she had on your ass grew coarse.

“Mhm” Ri hummed in approval, she took the thumb of her free hand and rubbed your essence from your begging hole to the other.

“Maybe we should try something new and train this hole too hm?” she purred, "Decorate this ass, my ass."

"Oh my God, yes." You moaned into the sheets,

"That's right, good girl." Her praise encouraged a 'please' from your lips, entreating her to guide herself inside.

She put strong pressure on your back, took the base of the glowing piece, and slowly dragged it to your opening. Without warning she bottomed out with a hasty thrust, hissing on how tight you were.

"Fuckk," She grunted in ecstasy, just grinding her hips before she continued starting with slow, long thrusts. Your pussy is so loud to the point it's impossible to miss that you're soaked.

"Please." Your voice cracked as you pleaded once again, far more desperate than the last.

"I did say I was gonna give you want you wanted huh?" She referred to her previous promise, "Okay mama, I gotchu." Admitting defeat, Riri finally gave up her game of teasing and ripped your panties off. Little huffs escaped from the base of your throat as her hips increased in speed.

"So good, you feel so good, sh-shit." You cried in between every other thrust.

"Yeah? Talk to me, tell me you'll never give my pussy away."

Riri loves hearing you say you're hers, she's confident that you have eyes for her only but God, just hearing it from your lips as she's taking care of your needs is a drug alone.

"Yess, baby I'm all yours. No one fucks me like you~." You reassured.

The ocean-like waves your ass resembled after every strike were a sight for Riri's sore eyes. Your back pushed into the mattress as she forced all her weight with both her hands at the sides of your waist, nearly having her standing on her tippy toes. Ri knows exactly where your G-spot is, pounding it mercilessly.

"Look at me." She ordered, slowing her hips so you could lift yourself up and turn your head just enough for her to see the side of your face. She let one of her hands caress your chin, while her other hand slowly traveled to your throbbing clit. She brought your lips to hers, licking your bottom lip as an initiation for you to allow her tongue inside. Immediately, you opened your mouth and imbraced her kiss.

"Who's making you feel good?" She whispered, thrusting harder but only fasting the pace of the fingers she has circling your clit.

"You baby-"

"Who's gonna make you cum?" She challenged, knowing that she was overwhelming you. this interrogation is not helping the brain fog you're experiencing, the stimulation is too much, and you're becoming weak. Too weak for words other than-

"Oh my god," You moaned as your arms gave out, you pulled your head from her hand and fell into the bed, giving up.

"Wrong answer mama," She says before taking her drenched fingers from your pussy and licking them, moaning from your taste. She then grabbed you by the hips once again, put her leg onto the bed, and pounded into you with a vampire-like speed.

"Riri!" The volume of your moans increased, and the pupils in your eyes grew before you rolled them back in pure exhilaration.

"Fuck fuck fuck!"

After those words, the rest became straight gibberish. Tears started brimming at the edges of your eyes. Almost your entire body is gradually getting limp.

You're about to cum.

"I'm gonna ask you again," She said, empty of patience, resting her leg back on the floor before launching her hand for your hair. She pulled just enough for you to gain a sense of consciousness. (at least a little)

"Who's going to make you cum?" Ri murmured in your ear.

"You are- you Riri, shit!"

"Mhm, see was that so hard?" The arrogant laughter followed by that question was interrupted by a long (and load) groan as your cunt sprayed cum practically everywhere. Riri, who was surprised by not only how much you came but the fact you did so without asking, still let you ride out your high.

Letting your hair untangle from her fingers, she pulled out. As expected your body shuts down, immediately falling to the bed as you catch your breath.

"I didn't say you can cum, you know that right?"

"I'm sorry." You sighed, exhausted.

"You will b-" Once again, Riri was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yo." She answered.

"Nigga, I shouldn't hear you mutha fuckers from the hallway!" One of her friends complained on the other side of the door, "And you couldn't have made it more obvious you two went to fuck? You're lucky they all got high before they could realize how long you've been gone Ri!" He added

"Oh shut your ass up, go somewhere." She argued.

"Clearly y'all need to go somewhere." He replied with a chuckle.

Usually, you'd be embarrassed. You'd laugh awkwardly then blame Riri saying 'She held a gun to my head' jokingly. But, this time you were wasted as fuck, just drunk off her dick.

"Bye!" Ri shooed, wafting her hand as if he could see through doors. After seconds of silence, she walked towards you, kissed your forehead, and unbuckled the strap.

"Don't worry, I'm gon' to remind you of yo manners once we get home tonight mama." She reassured, "Don't fall asleep on me, ima run you a bath and get your bag mkay?"

"Mmm," You moaned tiredly. (Yo ass still fell asleep🤭)

A/N: WO, the train has begun. I kinda felt like I rushed through this even though I'd been working on it the entire day. I hope I didn't disappoint, but if I did worry not! More is on the way!

(I also would appreciate some feedback, it really motivates a writer!)

[animeredhead101]

DP x DC Long Fics (100,000 Above)

Complete

Secrets Lost by ArtemisMoore :

(Currently being edited) Danny knew that someday, somehow that something like this would happen. That his parents would discover his secret and react in one of two ways; a) they would be confused but accept him like they had in all of the other temporary cases they’d experienced, or b) they would stick to their guns (literally) and decide that their son was the enemy. Now, of course, he and his friends had been preparing for this day since the first Ghost Attack on Amity Park. They had bags packed, emergency supplies stashed around Amity Park and surrounding cities, emergency funds, and safe houses. They had plans, preparations, and procedures that all of “Team Phantom” had memorized. Even Valery, who had only been a part of “Team Phantom” for a week and still didn’t know his identity! But none of them could have imagined that “Operation Friend or Foe” would happen like this. When all of their preparations were hundreds of miles away, supplies were out of reach, and where all of his friends and allies couldn't help him. They had no idea… that everything would go this wrong. Word Count: 103,445 Completed

Batman, Meet Team Phantom by Sivan5733 :

Jason leaves Amity Park for Gotham, but an emergency call changes everything. The Fentons have discovered Danny's secret, and things are going horribly wrong. While Jazz, Sam, and Tucker save Danny from Jack and Maddie, the group is now on the run. Jason and his family pull all of their resources together to make things right.

An "Anger Management" Relationship Fic

Word Count: 118,359 Completed

Nothing But The Dead And Dying (back in my little town) by Umei_no_Mai :

Dan has just been rescued and is feeling a bit shorter than usual. Jason Todd has just been petitioned like he's a feudal warlord, which has never happened before but he could maybe get used to. They can probably make this work so long as Batman doesn't stick his nose in. Yeah, like that'll happen. Word Count: 123,925 Completed

Bitter, had the Heart by CastrianAmore :

Tim is the only one consistently watching. Thus he’s the first and only one to notice one more body following the streets like the bats do. A kid with all black hair and white motifs and an attitude problem that reminds him a tad too much of Jason. It was a shame Jason was adamant that he “didn’t know anything”, what a liar right?

But the streets of Gotham listened and the name on everyone’s lips playing like a discordant harmony was one word: Distortion. Not that Tim knew what it meant yet, but Danny would make sure he would. If Danny lived long enough for Tim to find out.

Word Count: 182,548 Completed

Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae :

“Hey, I do I... Do I know you?” Danny asks, a hand coming up to brush something off Tim’s cheek. “No,” Tim says. “We haven’t met.” “Oh, no, I do.” Danny says, and he smiles, teeth white and sharp. “You’re that guy who rearranged my guts!” Rearranged his- Tim glances at the knotted scars on the boy’s abdomen. He can see the shine and shadow of haphazard stitches that weren’t meant to hold forever, that tore and healed over. His- This- “WHAT!?” Nightwing shouts, equal parts confused and delighted. Tim’s fucked. OR Danny Fenton's been in GIW captivity for 4 months. Tim Drake gets kidnapped by the GIW one Tuesday evening in May. Considering how many of the Bats and the Birds have died and come back to life, it was only a matter of time for some people interested in the afterlife to come poking around. The detectives can't seem to uncover any information about the mysterious white vans, however. And they keep losing the mysterious boy who seems to be the one person in Gotham to know anything at all. Word Count: 121,281 Completed

Finding Valhalla by Phantom_Theif_1412 for Cielle_Noire :

When the local breakfast cereal invites Bruce Wayne and his family to Amity, Phantom and Valkyrie are suspicious and try to play it safe. But they have no idea what he's planning, and misguided plans can cause unintended consequences. Posting this cause I wrote it, and really hope everyone likes it. Please enjoy at your leisure. Word Count: 195,295 Completed

Anaktaomai: regain for oneself, recover by blobghost (handovertheblorbofics) :

Jason is trying to live his second chance at life to the fullest: protecting Gotham's streets as the Red Hood, going to college to get a degree, participating in Gotham's Renaissance Faire, getting a boyfriend, all of it. Sure, he's been daydreaming a lot more and it might be becoming a major problem and his boyfriend is apparently a meta who saved his kid brother after a mission gone wrong, but as far as he was concerned those were nothing to worry about. What he does need to worry about is homework and rogues attempting to kill him... right? Title is Greek transliteration of ἀνακτάομαι. (Fic fully written and chapters will be posted once a week) Word Count: 117,717 Completed

A Second Life by Die_Erlkonigin6083 :

He wakes up with no memories. He knows things, but he doesn’t know why. Who is he? And how did he get here? Word Count: 159,219 Completed

Ongoing

Kite Flies Over The Nightingale Nest by Th3Sp4rrow :

My prompt list is from ailesswhumptober on Tumblr :) Tw's are at the start of each chapter! When Jason Todd learns that Catherine Todd wasn't his biological mother- that his bio mom as well as his twin brother were still out there somewhere in the world- he'd almost left the matter alone. He already had Dick; he didn't need another brother. Although, he did miss his mom... He'd decided to try and find Sheila Haywood, the woman who had relinquished him to his father and had dropped his twin off somewhere along the way. Meanwhile, Daniel Fenton had been protecting his town of Amity Park for months. Now, with the Ghost Investigation Ward closing in, the stakes are higher than ever. After a night out gone horribly wrong, the Fentons' know his secret. He's Phantom, and he's half ghost. They chase him cross-country, meets some interesting characters, and sees the GIW attempting to kidnap a boy about his age. He takes action. He swoops in to save the boy and... fails. Instead of saving him, they both get shoved into the back of some shitty van. That was when they realized they knew the face staring back at them. Word Count: 139,347 On-going

lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood by halfgone(milkywxy) :

Based on this Tumblr prompt.

Lex Luthor has recently acquired a son. Weapon? Parole officer? ...Lex now has a teenaged god and he'll be damned if someone tries to take the kid away from him.

Word Count: 519,936 On-going

close enough to be whole again by hailsatancab :

“If you ever find yourself in danger, go to Bruce Wayne. He will help you.” His mother had loved him, in her own way. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have helped him escape. If she hadn’t, she would have dragged him back to the League of Assassins, to Grandfather. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead. She loved him, but she loved the League more. Jack and Maddie Fenton loved him too, they did, but they loved their work more. They loved their work more. -- After his parents react poorly to his reveal, Danny escapes to the only person he thinks can help him - Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know what to expect when he gets there, but it has to be better than where he is, surely? He certainly doesn't expect to be reunited with his long lost twin brother Damian. It's funny how things work out that way. Danny is 16 years old, not Phantom Planet compliant Word Count: 117,934 On-going

Imprint by Hashtag_DriveBy :

He screwed his eyes shut, held his breath, desperately wished that he was back in his safehouse, alone and blissfully unaware. But the weight in his hands remained, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the bean-shaped 'fuck you' the Lazarus Pit had kindly bestowed upon him, arms and legs folded up against his front beneath off-white muslin while tiny lips smacked softly.

What the fuck.

What the hell was Jason supposed to do now?

Word Count: 119,791 On-going

Phantoms and Foes by Zyleev :

Krypton was dying long before it exploded. After a lab accident at 14 gave Danny ice powers, he used them for good to try and stop crime as the first hero of Krypton. But when thousands of years of mining the core of Krypton finally caught up to the planet, General Zod evacuated Krypton to the Phantom Zone before it exploded. Little did Zod know he led the Kryptonians to a slaughter. Years later, Danny is the only Kryptonian left alive when Kal-El finds the Phantom Projector and brings him to Earth. Danny must now adjust to having new powers and life on a planet that is completely different than Krypton and the Phantom Zone. Word Count: 121,723 On-going

Press Heart to Subscribe by Die_Erlkonigin6083 :

Brown shows Damian a viral video of a twitch streamer, named UndeadNebula, passionately defending the current Robin from his critics. Intrigued, he begins watching the streamer.

UndeadNebula is smart, kind, funny, and Damian could listen to him talk for eternity.

The streamer might have wormed his way into Damian’s heart.

Word Count: 101,086 On-going

Danny Fenton: Dead and Loving It by HyperKid :

Danny and Jason meet by chance in a graveyard on Christmas Eve over a certain someone’s grave. Neither expect to ever see the other again, until they run into each other at a coffee shop less than a week later.And once they’re both thinking clearly, there’s obviously something wrong. Between working out what to tell their families, what’s actually going on, and just… well, being happy pains in the ass and proud of it, it turns out Team Batfam and Team Phantom all over are a match made in Heaven. Now all they have to do is persuade Bruce that Jason having new friends hasn’t hailed the apocalypse. Word Count: 275,002 On-going

Bus to Nowhere by foldingfacets :

Is it running from your problems if your problems consider you to be a dead imprint of consciousness that killed their son? Yes, but Danny tries not to think about how his nightmares of his parents trying to kill him came true when they found out he was Phantom. After being on the run from his parents and the government for a couple of months, moving from town to town, Danny ends up in Gotham City and decides to risk staying in Batman's territory. He'd take the wrath of Batman over live vivisection via beloved parents or being studied and torn apart by the government. Besides, he's not a meta. Being dead is a medical condition. Word Count: 108,870 On-going

Some Kind of Miraculous Bind by Saitrised :

Damian Wayne is the heir to the Bat, the Blood Son. Except, he wasn't always the only blood son. There was another, younger heir once, before Damian had left the league and his brother hadn't had the chance to join him. There was one alive heir to the Bat, and a second one, secret to all but him, that was gone. Danny Fenton is already tired of being the Ghost King. Not even six months into his reign, and he's having to deal with ectoplasmic leaking past Amity's borders and new, unknown threats against his people. And the fact that Gotham, the one city that he had mentally marked as off limits, seems to be where most of the problems are isn't helping. ---This is an upload of a heavily edited version of the previously posted chapter 14--- Word Count: 126,392 On-going

schrodinger's cat by Meetalotaku :

My extrapolated story from I'm building off flamingpuddings post on Tumblr. What if Selina Kyle was Danny bio mom. That she had with Batman. And she put him up for adoption to her distance relatives the fentons. I've also taken the liberty to set the phantom time line up a few years earlier. Danny had his accident in Jr high. At 11 in 6th grade. He meets Selina at not yet 14 teen. A ton of DC characters will make appearances eventually. But it's going to focus heavily on Gotham based characters first. And slowly sprinkle in more phantom characters and other dc characters from all media forms messed together. Word Count: 145,780 On-going

Wayne's Haunted Mansion by Tathartiel :

Something is wrong. Bruce notices it when he's not alone, but he feels like he is being watched. The bad part? He feels it both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman. Who is watching him? He's determined to find out. He regrets it when finds out that there is another child in his home, but one who is in desperate need of help. Word Count: 121,923 On-going

The Adventures of Big Talon and Little Talon. by Ispotteddumuss :

“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowy perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your health, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send the Talon for your head.” Jason would like a one Talon please. No, not the Other Talon. He wants the Little Talon. The one with yellow green eyes. The short one. You know the one that chirps. No, he's not turning into his Father, he swears. Little Talon doesn't know what he wants but he knows this new Big Talon is good. (It takes a bit to get to Big Talon and Little Talon part. It starts mostly just Little Talon. Like a while. We got there though but takes a bit.) Word Count: 167,257 On-going

Artificial Wingman by TheSleepyKitsune :

Prompt fill for im-totally-not-an-alien-2 on TumblrAfter finding a spell book in his aunt's attic, half ghost Danny Fenton decides to become a Disney Princess for a day in another dimension by using a love potion on the local wildlife. Fate has different plans, however, in the form of a Gotham Vigilante landing directly in said love potion.Now, with a love-struck Damian Wayne and no immediate way home, Danny must try to make a cure while dodging the cities best detectives.Meanwhile, a very concerned Batfam are trying to track down their missing member. Word Count: 106,859 On-going

If you Give a Bat a Burger by Cielle_Noire :

Strange things are going on in Gotham: A series of crimes linked only by a sentence uttered. A drug that no one seems to be selling, but lots of people are taking. An old enemy reborn, or someone pretending to be him. Graffiti that can't be photographed by normal means. Bartenders disappearing without a trace. John Constantine is also there. Danny wants nothing to do with any of it. He just wants to sell burgers and survive. Actually, he'd like to go home again, but since that isn't possible, he'll stick with burgers. Gotham's vigilante's have other plans. This is why Danny doesn't do favors. Word Count: 248,148 On-going

regular boy: daniel wayne by diamond_rozie :

“Reporting live from Gotham City, here at the scene of the crime. Dr. Collin Kilye, renowned geneticist, has shot himself and has been declared dead by the paramedics. Dr. Kilye is suspected to be responsible for the purposeful switching of newborns between families under his care, where an known over 500 babies have been swapped in the last 20 years of his employment here. Based on the information provided to the Gotham PD by Nightwing and Batman, we are led to believe that Nightwing has been investigating this case after an anonymous tipoff. After a month and a half of investigating, Nightwing-” Dick had learned that people never know a situation as well as they assume they did. Dick had always assumed that he wouldn’t be one of those people. He was a detective, a Bat, the first Robin.The case file in front of him glared tauntingly. He should've known better to assume anything.Danny Fenton; Birth Parents: Bruce Wayne (father) and Clarissa King (mother). Status: Alive Word Count: 100,571 On-going

Like and Survive-Phantom's Guide to Young Hero Survival by robinasnyder :

When the world becomes aware of teenaged superheroes there is an immediate and fierce wave of backlash and controversy. That's where Phantom comes in. Phantom saved the world from a meteor fifteen years back; an impressive feat back in the day but now that meteors threatening all life on earth is such a common event that hardly anyone thinks about it. Phantom is considered an old timer who deals with a small city and nowhere else. When he begins uploading videos with advice for young heroes, he hopes a few new heroes might avoid some of the pain he went through. He's shocked at just how popular his advice suddenly becomes. Word Count: 306,940 On-going

If you find a vigilante in the dumpster by lunamugetsu :

The plan was simple, Jazz and her now de aged brother would go lay low in Gotham, act as a mother-son duo. Wait as Danny heals up by absorbing the ambient ectoplasm leaking from the city and Vlad gives the green light that he has a safe place they could stay. Plus with the blessing from the Ghost of Gotham and knowing that even the GIW wouldn't dare to encroach on Batman's territory, it was a pretty safe plan. That was until a certain vigilante just keeps on finding himself in their dumpster. / / It was a normal night of patrol for Jason. Beating up a bunch of criminals. Shooting them with bullets (they're rubber bullets Bruce! Calm down!) Get stabbed by them. Pass out from blood loss in the place he was taking refuge in Wake up in an apartment, his wounds bandaged and all. And to a black haired blue eyed kid staring at him. "I found you in the garbage!" Word Count: 120,002 On-going

Shoot Suspected Ghosts First, Ask Questions Never by yasstaghr :

Danny is in over his head and he knows it. He's feeling overwhelmed with trying to stop a war between the Realms and Earth, and he doesn't have a lot of good options. He makes a desperate attempt to keep as many people alive as he can, and it goes both horribly right and horribly wrong.

Word Count: 169,508 On-going

Robin's Egg by Calix :

While out on nightly patrol, Robin finds a very injured Danny Phantom who is about to be forced back into his core. Now that the ghost boy is entirely defenseless, how is Damien going to protect the core from others? And even harder… how is going to keep Phantom's existence unknown to his family? Word Count: 162,633 On-going

Friendly neighborhood vigilante by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt for Imp_y :

Meet Jasmine Fenton: Smart, resourceful, kind and the very proud sister of Amity Park's own undead superhero Danny Phantom. Therapist at your service. Intern at Arkham Asylum. Can kick your ass. Likes tea and long walks at the beach. Meet Jason Todd: Smart, resourceful, not-that-kind (if you say he's soft you may get knifed) and the very proud vigilante and protector of Crime Alley. Died for a while but got better. Holds grudges. Likes reading a nice book and the sound of the rain against the window. They are neighbors now. Word Count: 112,001 On-going

Broken Bonds by SleepingDead (PolarBearSeals) :

Severely injured, Danny escapes the GIW and latches onto the first ghost that called to him who offered protection and rest. Danny regrets it when he learns he's in the city of the brother who'd killed him. And it appears he can't leave. Word Count: 123,699 On-going

I Am A Retired Hero And My Love Interest Is A Former Crime Lored!? by ShyCrow :

Danny Fenton did the whole hero thing, all right? He fought bad guys, saved the world a couple of times, became enemies with a secret government faction. And it was fun. Really, he had no regrets! But now it's time for him to buckle down and focus on getting that degree. It's a good thing Gotham University gave him a full ride. But things are just now starting to get more and more complicated... It started as an accident that evolved into the Red Hood paying attention to Danny. And now ghosts are starting to lose objects that, if fallen into the wrong hands, can cause a lot of trouble for both Danny and the Ghost Zone. With the bats starting to take notice of him and the Zone's refusal to leave him alone, can he truly lead a normal life? And, more importantly, does he really want to? Word Count: 138,759 On-going

[falaihullo]

LH44 x Reader

-pretending he doesn’t own his Monaco home

Warning: shitty writing and rushed since I’m at work

I’ll fix it when I get home

Was supposed to just be a simple hook up, that’s all. Following him around the world was simply because they were just friends before this mistake. Not y/ns words but his words, the next morning exactly. Y/n knew she had feelings for Lewis but never got the chance to act on them so she hid them.

——

The Monaco sun coming through the curtains of the hotel room Y/n happened to be staying in. Feeling a weight on her stomach she looked over to see a shirtless Lewis. Laying there for a minute thinking about what happened last night.

They were at the club drinking nonstop, dancing together with their bodies pressed against each other, then kissing each other in the elevator like the kisses were air, suddenly in his room stripping clothes off each other.

The movement of his arm breaks Y/N out of her thoughts. “Fuck” he says rubbing his face.

“Yeah” she mumbles shifting upwards, Lewis following same movements but with sheets to her chest.

“This was a mistake” he mutters grabbing his phone checking social media to make sure no one saw.

“Mh” was the only response she could from feeling like he’s sticking pins in her chest.

Moving to the side of the bed, she grabs her shirt that was on the ground to get dressed. The faster she’s out of there, the better.

“No one posted anything about us being together since it’s a normal occurrence” he says still on his phone. Holding my heels and phone in one hand as I open the door to leave.

“I’ll see you later?” He questions looking up at her as she pauses facing the door.

“Probably” she says weakly before making her way to where she was staying, thankfully only a floor below.

That had been over 2 months ago and basically the last time they spoke. Lewis tried to reach out for her to join him during races again like nothing happened. At first she contemplated whether that would be good for her, ultimately deciding that it was a bad idea. She was going to stay in paris away from him for as long as possible. The no contact will cause her to lose feelings…or she hoped. Seeing paparazzi catching Lewis making out with another woman dug the knife even deeper.

“Y/n, get dressed” Lily says walking in her apartment.

“No, why?” She stubbornly said still watching the show playing.

“Because you been here moping around for the past week. Let’s go party, you never get to see me now that you stopped traveling with…” she trails off

“I’m not moping, just don’t have the energy to party now”

“Sounds like moping to me, let’s go now” she demands turning off the show. Y/n rolls her eyes but does as she’s told.

“Look hot” Lily yells from the other room.

Lilymhe story

Caption: guys help I lost Y/n in the club

LewisHamilton replied: what club are you even at??

Seen

Lilymhe

Caption: Nvm found her…

Danielricciardo: 10/10 would do it again

Story Seen by LewisHamilton

Y/nofficial

Liked by LandoNorris, DanielRicciardo, Lilymhe, and 1,800,540 others

I don’t remember who I kissed but would do it again

Lilymhe: I don’t remember either but crying cause it wasn’t me

-Alex_Albon: uh hello?

-Lilymhe: not about you

-y/nofficial: not about you, go away

-alex_albon: wow that’s…insane

Danielricciardo: I think we were at the same club…

-y/nofficial: wait really, I barely remember last night

-danielricciardo: and it was me you kissed…

-y/nofficial: omg Danny I’m sorry 😭

-Danielricciardo: you’re a good kisser so that makes up for it.

Liked by Y/nofficial

-user1: UH HELLO NO LEWIS LIKE AND SHE KISSED YOU???

User2: lewy/n gang how we feeling

-user3: love doesn’t exist

——-

Looking at Danny’s comment the night comes back to her.

“Y/n! It’s been a while” Danny says over the music hugging her

“Danny omg yes” she says leaning into his hug

“Where you’ve been? We all miss you.” He asks letting go slightly to look down at her

“Oh yeah kinda fell out with Lewis” she says looking away.

“Wait…you had a crush on him though” he says confused.

“Yeah, well mistakes happened, his words not mine. But we don’t talk and he was seen kissing someone.”

“Let’s take a picture together…kissing. You know to show him what he’s missing”

“That’s insane…let’s do it” she says turning to Lily who’s witnessing the exchange. Pulling out her phone she hands it over to Lily who knows what to do.

-

It’s not long that her doorbell is going off cause the slight headache to get worse. Groaning she gets the door not looking into the peephole being surprised by Lewis standing in front of her.

“Oh dang what are you doing here” rubbing her forehead to calm the headache down. Moving aside to allow him in.

“You’ve been avoiding me then I see you kissed Daniel”

“Oh” all she can come up with

“That’s all? No explanation?” He says sitting on her couch.

“Fine you want an explanation!” She groans crossing her arms over her chest before continuing, “I had feelings for you, we hooked up and you said it was a mistake so I distanced myself then you were seen kissing someone.”

“What?” He whispers looking down.

“Yeah everyone else knew about the feelings, including Danny. So he kissed me to get back at you” she finished explaining while staring at his shocked state.

“You had feelings?”

“Yup” she says monotonously.

“I fucked up” he says to himself

“Yeah you did.” She says sitting down next to him but still far enough he doesn’t touch her.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s whatever” she says looking forward at the turned off tv.

“No, no it’s not” he sighs looking at the side of her face. Putting his hand under her chin he forces her to look at him. “I love you so much and I’ve known it but was scared to say anything” leaning towards her, he gently presses his lips to hers. Not a second goes by and she kisses back.

[simplydannie]

This may seem crazy but the outro of billie eilish's song "blue" makes me think of your au of floyd and the twins pls listen to it and see what you think (love your posts btw) !!!

Haii!!

First of all, thank you so much! It means a lot to me!

Secondly, I went ahead and listened to the song (since i had never heard it lol) and the feels it gave me. Of course Billie never fails to impress with her music ❤️ Listening to those lyrics really got me thinking that his is Floyd talking to twins, a really hopeless Floyd where he thinks they can’t be saved at all. This little story popped in my head while listening to that beautiful song:

Previous “The Betrayal”

One month….

It had been one month since Veneer trapped him inside this diamond that now served as his prison. One month of torture they were putting him through…But through all this, Floyd couldn’t help but feel it was all his fault.

He looked through the glass diamond at the twins…his twins. He looked at the pop crazed little demons they’ve become. Their glammed up hair, makeup, clothing. This isn’t them, he thought to himself. These weren’t his twins that he met and cared for. How in the world did he allow for this to happen? Why did he accuse them and think they were all part of this evil woman’s plan? Why did he go off on them like that?

Time and time again he tried to talk to them, try to speak reason. Velvet didn’t want to hear, she no longer cared for what he had to say. She didn’t even call him by his name anymore. All he was to her was the “Troll”. Veneer never spoke his name again either… “little guy”…That’s all he was. Why couldn’t they speak his name? Why couldn’t they call him what they once did? Floyd….Dad…It hurt him, he tried not to feel anything, but he couldn’t help it, it hurt because its as if those years with him never existed.

He tried to get pieces of conversations whenever Mistress was around…but it’s as if she knew he was listening. She dare not speak around him. It was one day, that the twins were rehearsing for a performance that broke him, yet, he was helpless, all he could do was watch.

“SLOPPY! THAT WAS SLOPPY!” Mistress yelled.

“Of course it was! We don’t have the Troll.” Velvet fought back.

“The Troll is only for performance. At least until you guys can get your hands on more. Veneer, what the hell? You’re lagging! You need to be EXACTLY like your sister. Other wise this whole perfect, twin illusion thing will fail!” She yelled.

“Uh, what do you think I’m trying to do?” He responded, “Besides I’m not my sister! We’re twins but we’re totally different. I have my own charisma, can’t I try doing that instead.”

“No! The main reason I contracted you two is not only because of your subspecies abilities, but you two are the only known Rageon twins. Do you know how much money that is making me?! You’re person, you’re look, it all depends on it. No one cares who the hell you really are! Your sister is the more charismatic one, so you follow her lead!”

“Yeah bro.” Velvet teased sticking out her tongue.

“From the top!”

Floyd watched as the Mistress over worked the twins, how she molded them. He did nothing to help back then, he really couldn’t do anything about it now. He saw how she shook her head and stomped her foot in anger…

“Dammit! No, no, no! Dammit Veneer!” She began to march up the stage.

“I did what you wanted me too. Not my fault I’m now as flexible as- AHHH!” Mistress smacked him clear across the face. Veneer retreated holding his cheek. Velvet stood there staring in bewilderment. All Floyd could do was stand up and bang against the diamond attempting to grab their attention, but he had no luck. Tears began to well up in Veneers eyes.

“Don’t you dare cry! Crying is for the weak! Study your sister’s movements to perfection. Remember you’re her exact copy. We’re done for the day.” She stormed off.

The twins just stood there staring after her, a distant look in their eyes, staring off into space as if zombified, “Guys?” Floyd called out. He knew he caught their attention, he saw the snap back in their eyes. Velvet side eyed him, a look of disgust on her face.

“Let’s go. Come on, let’s just get out of here. Let’s go while we can.” He said practically begging them.

Velvet sneered, “Who the hell do you think you are Troll?”

“Velvet…you have to be kidding me. You haven’t called me by my name in a while. It’s like you forgot who I was.”

“You’re our little tool to stardom. That’s it. Let’s go Ven.” She marched off. Veneer only spared a small glance at Floyd and went off after his sister, still holding his cheek where Mistress slapped him…

…They are really gone, aren’t they? There was no look of compassion or remembrance in any of their eyes. What they had was now just a dream, a ghost, and Floyd couldn’t help but feel that it was his fault. He should’ve spoken to them when he still could, when their hearts weren’t changed, when they weren’t under this, this “spell” that witch had them in. He didn’t know how could bring them back, or even if that was possible. Floyd fell to his knees inside the diamond bottle. Leaning his forehead against the diamond wall, tears began to fall as song began to rise in him…

“Born blameless…grew up famous too…I don't blame you…But I can't change you…Don't hate you…But we can't save you.” Tears fell form his eyes to the floor of the diamond, “I’m sorry guys…I failed you.”

[your-local-grinning-cat]

@castaway-achlys

hi Star :3

⭐️😸⭐️😸⭐️😸⭐️

*his purrs make castor cling even tighter, happily cuddling up to him*

okay!! i won't feel bad, then..! i'm happy that i met you... can we be friends furever? you can call me star as much as you want... i like it!!

*castor has definitely picked up on the funny things chenya says and wants to indulge the strange feline even more*

😸⭐️😸⭐️😸⭐️😸

*laughs*

I’m happy we met too, Starburst! Thanks to the power of kazoos!

And furever is a long time… so how about we say we’ll be furiends until either pi ends or we no longer wish to be, alright? 😸

*boops your nose with my own, grinning happily*

[arthur-r]

i got complimented for the stickers on my water bottle being so cottagecore…. killing and biting and crying and screaming

[neo-nomatrix]

EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[peaktora]

𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).

a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here

p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!

"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.

your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”

he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."

clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.

you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.

he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."

“what are y—“

“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”

"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.

he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."

you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"

he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."

two can play that game.

“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.

he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.

or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.

"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.

you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”

you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.

“satoru—”

“what happened to nicknames?”

“satoru.”

"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"

"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."

"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”

"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"

“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”

“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.

his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”

“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”

“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”

you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“

he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“

you tsk, making him drop his excuse.

“wh—“

"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.

you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.

before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.

the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.

“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.

"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."

you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”

“i love you more.”

[hysteria-things]

MATT'S STREAM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)

ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)

chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.

matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.

hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.

“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.

he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just need to stretch.”

before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.

your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”

he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”

“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.

the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.

you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.

“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.

you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.

“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.

you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.

chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.

“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.

he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.

this, however, is a first.

you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.

after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.

you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.

chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.

be quiet. right.

your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.

before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.

“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.

“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.

rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.

too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.

“i don’t know, man.”

“this game sucks!”

“is your camera working yet?”

“no, sorry!”

little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.

you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.

“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.

the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”

he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”

he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.

“then, you tease me.”

another thrust.

“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”

again.

a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”

you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.

“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”

with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”

chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.

god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.

drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.

“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”

because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.

“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.

he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.

“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”

when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.

[ja3yun]

Push My Buttons | L.HS

bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!

_____

Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.

"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.

“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.

Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.

Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.

You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.

Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.

To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 

It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 

Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.

With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.

Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.

He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.

You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.

“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”

Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.

“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.

“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.

Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.

With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.

The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.

“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.

"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt

The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.

Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 

“I don’t work here, I-”

“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.

Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration

But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 

Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.

As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.

You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.

Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.

Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 

You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.

“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 

Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 

“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 

You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.

Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 

This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.

Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.

You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.

Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 

It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 

With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.

_____

As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.

Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 

The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.

A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 

“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.

“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.

Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.

But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.

You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.

His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.

He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.

As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.

His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.

You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.

“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.

Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.

Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..

"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.

"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.

Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.

"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.

"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.

Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.

It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.

Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.

You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.

"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.

“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.

“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.

The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.

You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.

“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.

Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.

Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.

"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.

You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.

Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."

This is going to end disastrously.

_____

"Remember—"

"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.

Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.

You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.

"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.

He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'

As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.

The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.

Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.

It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.

Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.

"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.

Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.

"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.

True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.

As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.

Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.

Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.

And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.

Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.

Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.

This is what he has to tell himself every day.

He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.

As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.

But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.

"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.

You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.

Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."

You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.

Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."

His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.

Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.

As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.

You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.

But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 

"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.

"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"

Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.

Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.

His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.

Either way, you need to get this steam out. 

“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 

As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.

Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.

But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.

Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.

"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.

“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.

As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.

Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 

“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.

"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.

His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"

“Yes! Obviously!”

Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.

But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.

Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 

He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.

With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.

Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 

Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.

The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.

Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."

A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.

But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.

With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."

“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.

“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”

Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.

He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.

With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.

Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.

"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.

Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.

Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 

As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.

“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.

Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.

With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”

Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.

“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.

Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.

Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.

“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”

Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.

He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.

“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”

Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.

The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.

“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.

You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.

[earthtooz]

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.” 

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 

“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs. 

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  

“Which was?” 

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 

“I love you, Wriothesley.” 

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ COME BACK TO BED — levi ackerman

summary . . . you crave levi, but he isn't there when you wake up.

contents . . . f!reader, nsfw mdni, cock warming, office (?) sex, creampie, piv, unprotected sex, fluff, honestly i haven't been in much of a mood to write smut but this has been in my drafts for a while so it gets really soft at the end— 2.2k

you walk into the room, frowning at the sight of your lover still behind his desk, bent over the parchment. light shadows his face, sparkling over him like a candle, illuminating him in a yellow hue. he’s so beautiful, and you ache for him. the desperation inside of you only grows, even though it is dually coated in worry. 

“levi?” you say, lips drawn down as you approach, blinking away your sleepiness. “why are you still working?” 

it’s nearly three in the morning; the bed was cold and empty when you left, and the middle of winter was unforgiving. though levi didn’t sleep often, he, at least, made an effort to when you were at his side. tonight, though, it seems he’s given up on the matter, scribbling notes on the paperwork instead.

“i have to finish this by tomorrow,” levi says, dismissive, not even bothering to glance up. 

your frown deepens, and you repeat his name, softer as you come around the side of the desk. you’d woken up so desperate for him, and when he was not there to coax an orgasm out of you, you’d tried to take on the task yourself. 

though, your fingers didn’t feel as nice as his did, hadn’t reached the places inside of you that his cock could. and, you craved it, craved him so much that you hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. 

“come back to bed,” you mutter, but even then, you can hear the desperation in your voice, the subtle tone that it takes on whenever you want him badly. 

his writing stops. he turns back to you, eyes hardening as you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. you run your soft fingertips along the juncture between his neck and jaw, batting your eyelashes at him so sweetly. 

there’s a dark look in his irises that you pick up on easily, but you can’t tell if he’s irritated with you, or if it’s the lust that is spreading in the ocean of his eyes. his jaw sets, and his normally straight mouth draws tighter. “i have to finish this.” 

“can i stay here, then?” 

he sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek. “i’m—”

you can already hear his protest, how he’ll say your name so softly in an apology, kiss you on the lips before sending you back to your shared room. but you’re determined to get your way tonight, and you can feel the wetness gathering between your legs, the ache still thrumming through your body. 

“want you inside me, levi,” you say softly, almost begging as you lean down to whisper into his ear. “please.” 

levi stops, eyeing you with the intensity that he faces with everyone, an intensity that doesn’t always soften for you. still, by now, you’re used to it — find it endearing, really, how serious he can be. 

“you going to be a distraction?” levi scans your face. 

you jut your lower lip out just a bit, almost pouting, “no,” you promise. “just want to feel you.” 

for a moment, he considers, before finally relenting. levi sighs, then pulls back the chair, his strong thighs on display as you maneuver yourself onto his lap. even the brief feeling of his knee against your clothed cunt sends a sharp whimper through you. 

“you can’t move. i’ve put this off for long enough.” 

“since when did you care about any of that?” you ask, yawning as you slip your pants off your hips. “i thought hange did the paperwork, anyway.” 

“if only.” he gives you a pointed look, tracing your jaw with his thumb. “just sit still.” 

levi focuses his attention back on the paperwork, and when you spare a brief glance at it, you notice that it’s reports from the past few missions. for the government in the interior, assigned specifically to captain levi. 

you refrain from a sarcastic remark, and instead, slide levi’s zipper down, waiting for any reaction. he gives you none, signs his name on the bottom line, and flips the parchment over. 

“levi,” you start, but he shushes you again, kissing your cheek dismissively. 

“no talking.” 

“you’re so rude.” 

he raises his eyebrow, but you slide his cock out of his pants, warming it in your palm. a soft little sigh leaves him as you stroke him until he’s hard, but he schools his expression into a neutral position, leaning back in the chair. 

you’re naked from the waist down, but he doesn’t seem to care. with something of a frown, you slip his cock inside you and sink your hips down. your fingers dig into his shoulders as you move, sliding right into him.

levi’s dark eyes dart towards you. “shit,” he gasps, his other hand holding onto your hips. “why are you so wet already?” 

a small whimper leaves you as he fills you up, stretches your walls, as you settle onto his cock. though it feels so good, you squeeze his arms and try not to move. “you weren’t there when i woke up,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to the space between his neck. “so i tried to take care of it myself.”

levi’s eyes flash. “dirty girl.” his voice is deeper, a rumble that you feel in his chest. “couldn’t help but touch yourself to the thought of me when i wasn’t there, hm? but i bet your fingers weren’t enough, were they?” 

you exhale deeply, shaking with the need to move as your walls flutter around him. “levi.” 

“needed my cock inside you instead, didn’t you, love? probably would’ve begged me to fuck you until you were tired enough to fall back asleep.” 

“god, levi, please.” you start, and you shift your hips once. your clit rubs right against him, his long cock settling inside you as a heavy moan almost escapes. instead, you bite down hard on his neck; but levi forces you down even harder on his lap, his eyes relentless. 

“i told you not to move, didn’t i?”

you blink back at him, but his face is serious, hardened lines stretching from each angle of his face. and though you want fuck yourself on his dick, and every atom in your being tells you to do so, you listen to him. somehow, you refrain from shifting your hips again.

sitting still, you bury your face into his neck and heave a great sigh, brushing the delicate skin beneath his jaw. 

“good girl,” levi says flippantly, his long, slender finger grazing up your spine. the simple words alone send a pulse straight through your body, and you whimper against him, your cunt squeezing tighter, wet from the deep intonation of his voice. 

levi says nothing else, but you can feel his smirk as he kisses your temple. he never fails to remind you how precious you are to him, even when he is a bit short with you. and even though he is never the best about telling you how much he loves you, his affections run deep.

he plays with the end of your hair, soothingly, and though you can’t ignore him deep inside you, it almost lulls you back into a peaceful sleep. 

after what feels like hours of subtle torture, you speak again. 

“levi,” you hum against his throat, when he flips another page, signing his name on the dotted line. “i love you so much.” 

his hand stills on your back, fingers tapping once against your spine before resuming. it’s still difficult for him to repeat the words, but you know it’s only out of his fear that you will one day be taken away from him. levi squeezes your hip once more, huffs, and sets the pen down. 

“i’m certain you know how much you mean to me,” levi returns, pulling you away from his neck so that you’re able to face him once again. “you’re supposed to be being quiet.” 

his face is stern, but his eyes are anything but; soft and loving. levi’s cheeks are flushed red, and though he is strong — the strongest — that alone is not enough to combat how he feels when he’s inside you. it brings a small, knowing smile to your face.

“i was being sweet,” you say, sleepily, testing your luck by lifting your hips and settling them once more. the feeling is more intense than you’d expected, and a little moan escapes your mouth, lips parting softly. “i do love you.” 

“i’m certain you’re just trying to butter me up,” levi’s mouth is against your own, the words leaving on a shaky breath, tickling your skin. “so you can get what you want.” 

you laugh, fanning your fingertips against his cheeks. “is it working?”

levi spares you one more hardened expression, tightly drawing his mouth together, before he’s lifting you, shifting you onto the desk, your back pressed against the papers. “unfortunately,” he grunts, kissing all over your face before he threads his fingers with your own. “god. the things you do to me. can’t think straight.” 

he thrusts up into you, hard, and you close your eyes, kissing him, much more slowly than the pace he sets with his hips. levi squeezes your palm tightly, the other roaming across your chest, your stomach, before settling at your hips. “you’re everything to me, you know? my beautiful girl. don’t know what i’d do without you.” 

you smile against his mouth and tug at his hair with your free hand, feeling the soft tendrils between your fingers. it’s ironic, that he thinks you’re beautiful, when you’re certain he’s the most angelic creature you’ve ever seen. “i’m not going anywhere, levi. i promise.” 

levi speeds up, involuntarily, eyes so intense as he watches every subtle change of your expression. but you are too sleepy to do much but breathe into his mouth, soft little moans that have levi thrusting into you twice as hard.

it doesn’t take long for him to coax the first orgasm out of you, and you’re barely able to whisper his name before you clench around him, squeezing the palm that’s still locked within your own.

levi smiles, but it’s snarky, a mix between satisfaction and annoyance. “looks like you got your way after all.” 

you laugh, breathless, kissing across his cheeks as he grows sloppy, chest heaving with the weight of his exhales. though levi wants to pin this all on you, you can tell that he needs to relax too. the past few hours without a moment of sleep, doing nothing but paperwork, have taken a toll on him. 

“must be so hard for you, huh?” you tease, eyelashes fluttering closed as you lean against him, letting your forehead drop to his shoulder. “getting to fuck me on a desk like this. what a chore.” 

“you shouldn’t talk to your captain like that,” levi teases, but he groans out the last few words, cheeks flushed from how close he is. lazily, your fingers run across his chest, and though a second orgasm is steadily building, you want to watch him come apart first.

“perhaps,” you say, smiling as you kiss his chest, your hair tickling the bottom of his jaw. “but i’m not talking to my captain, i’m talking to you, levi.” you lean back up to kiss him, once, again, just the softest brush of your lips. “and i want you to cum inside me.” 

levi’s eyes flash, and you can see the moment that he unravels, the next few seconds where his movements get erratic. then, his features change, plump bottom lip separating from the top one. the look in his eyes grows distant, and his stomach flexes, abs tightening, before the heat of his cum shoots inside of you. 

levi topples onto you, his chest landing on yours as you fall back onto the desk. his cock finally slips out of you.

“shit,” levi says, running his hands along your thighs, sweaty skin sticking to each other. “we’re going to ruin the papers.” 

“who cares,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes before encircling levi’s neck with your arms. “the military police can deal with the mess.”

“you’re disgusting.” 

“they’d probably get off on it, don’t you think? the interior is full of hedonists anyway.”

levi snorts. “maybe. but i prefer not to think about how they spend their free time.”

you laugh again, just a breath of air, and settle against him. levi is warm, his arms are strong, and he smells clean; a mix of soap and the sweet fragrant of citrus. he holds you so gently, despite all of the hardness that lingers in his body. you’ve never known anyone to feel so much like home.

“will you come to bed now?” you ask sleepily. “i don’t want to go to sleep alone.” 

levi softens, and he traces your cheekbone with his thumb, as best he can at the awkward angle. “sure, love. i should get some rest anyway.”