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yinyuedijun · 1 month

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TOKYO VICE | part 2

“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)

12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

part 1 here

You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.

A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)

Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.

You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.

The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.

Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.

After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.

One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.

“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”

To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.

A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.

A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.

While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.

You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.

“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”

“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”

Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.

You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.

“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.

Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.

Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.

You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.

“Oh?”

“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”

He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”

“...”

Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.

“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”

“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”

Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.

As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.

With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.

You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.

“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.

You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?

This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.

Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.

Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.

In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.

You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”

He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.

“...no, I'm fine.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”

As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.

Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.

“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”

“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.

“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”

“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”

You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.

“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”

You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.

You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”

“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”

Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”

His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.

You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.

In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.

“Stop that.”

Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”

Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”

This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.

He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”

His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.

“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”

You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”

For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.

“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.

“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”

You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”

“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”

You're mortified.

Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.

What a horrible man.

When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”

His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.

And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.

But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.

So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.

Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”

“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.

“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”

“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.

“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”

Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”

“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”

You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.

Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.

“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”

You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.

“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”

You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.

But you do feel like prey.

“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”

He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.

“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”

“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.

A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”

“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.

“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—

He stops.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”

You’re going to cry.

You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”

“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”

Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”

“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.

“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”

He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”

He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.

“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”

You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—

His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.

“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”

“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.

You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.

“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”

“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.

You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.

“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.

“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”

You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.

You feel devastated.

Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.

Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.

You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.

“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.

His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.

“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.

A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”

You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.

You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.

Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.

“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.

“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.

“Or?”

“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.

And when your master died.

“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”

“And?”

“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”

You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.

You love him so much it disgusts you.

You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.

“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.

But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.

“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”

You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.

But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.

Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.

“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.

“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”

Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”

He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.

“Suo,” you start.

“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”

Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”

He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”

You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”

“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.

Suo pauses.

“What?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.

It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.

His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”

You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.

“I’m not,” you reply, “and stop that.”

“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”

Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.

You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.

“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.

“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”

He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.

You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.

But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.

“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.

“Hayato,” you whine.

“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”

Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.

“Suo, wait—”

You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.

“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”

“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.

You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.

Her tray clatters to the floor.

Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.

“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”

“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.

Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.

“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.

“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.

Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”

You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”

“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”

“S-suo.”

“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”

He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.

“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”

“I…”

“You?”

“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”

He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.

Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.

“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”

You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”

Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”

“...what?”

“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”

“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”

“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”

“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”

“Hayato—”

“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”

“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”

“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”

You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.

You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.

He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”

Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.

He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”

Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”

“...”

With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.

“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”

He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”

You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.

But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.

Then he starts pushing into you.

“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”

“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”

Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.

It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”

It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.

“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.

He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.

You aren't going to complain.

You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.

You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.

He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.

Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.

“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.

Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.

Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.

“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.

Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.

This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.

To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.

Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.

After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.

“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”

You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.

But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.

You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.

He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.

But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.

“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.

“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.

You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”

“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”

“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”

Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.

“Although?”

“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.

“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”

You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.

Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”

“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”

You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.

But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.

“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.

You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.

You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.

Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.

“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”

“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.

Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.

He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”

He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”

It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.

“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”

But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.

“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”

He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.

“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”

Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.

“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”

You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.

Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.

And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.

END 'TOKYO VICE'

hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol

can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!

thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

#hayato suo x reader #suo hayato x reader #wbk x reader #windbre x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #suo hayato smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Text

Irresistible || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

December 2019

Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.

“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”

He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.

“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”

“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”

Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”

Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.

You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”

A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”

“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”

“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”

He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”

August 2017

All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.

You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.

“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?”

You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before.

“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”

“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”

“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.

“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.

“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”

You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”

He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”

You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.

“Charles, dépêche-toi!”

You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.

“Well?”

You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”

“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”

“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”

You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him.

“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”

“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”

Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”

You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”

He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”

“The Fairmont.”

The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”

“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Your boyfriend?”

You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”

He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”

“Have you been to Jimmyz?”

“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.

“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”

January 2020

Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink.

You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.

The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.

“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.

“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”

August 2017

The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.

“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.

With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”

Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”

He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”

You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.

Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”

February 2020

You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.

“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.

The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”

“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.

She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”

You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.

“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”

“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”

August 2017

“Where are we going?”

Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.

“You live in a hotel?”

He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”

He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.

For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.

“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.

“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”

Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.

“What’s my name?” he repeated.

“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.

“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”

The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.

You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.

Giada: When are you coming home?

“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”

You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.

Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx

You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.

You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.

It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.

You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.

“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.

He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”

Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.

February 2020

You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away.

“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”

“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”

Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?”

“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”

“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”

You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping.

“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”

“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”

“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”

“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”

“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”

You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”

“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”

He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”

“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”

“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”

“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Biche.”

“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”

You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”

A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad.

“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”

“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”

Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too.

“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.

“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”

“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”

You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway.

“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”

“No, she prefers me with nothing on.”

You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Night, ma biche.”

It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.

“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”

You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply.

Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours.

Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water.

“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”

“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.

“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”

His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”

“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him.

You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”

“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.

“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”

“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”

Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys.

You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”

Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”

You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable.

Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”

His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.”

“She’s pretty.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.”

You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”

“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”

“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it.

“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”

“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.

“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”

“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”

Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way.

“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”

He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”

The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand.

Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening.

“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv.

“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”

“Okay, and?”

His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”

“Why?”

He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.”

His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”

“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”

You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Good news or bad news first?”

You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.

“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Is that the good or the bad news?”

“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”

“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”

Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”

“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.

“This is going to be great.”

Click here for part two.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic

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tojipie · 1 year

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thinking very hard about truck driver toji !

passing mention of sex but no actual nsfw content !

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lugging cargo across the country is no joke, with individual jobs spanning weeks at a time. fortunately, toji somehow ended up with you to keep him busy, his forever passenger princess.

a blurry picture of you two taken on a disposable camera hangs on the dash mirror. the shot is encased in a clear frame and strung up by beaded thread. you’re holding the camera towards the two of you, blowing a kiss towards the lense as toji stands with his arm slung around your shoulders. he’s smiling, a marlboro red pinched between his molars.

toji tries not to smoke in front of you most of the time, opting to pull over at a weigh-in station when his hands start to shake. he’ll kick the same pebble around while you stretch behind the truck, waving at the occasional biker.

it’s rare that men in his profession have anyone to spend the drive with, toji makes the most of it. the older man uses your little stowaway situation as an excuse to take you all across the country, picking up little keychains and stickers for you at every gas station the two of you visit. it’s hard to keep busy when all there is to do is pump gas and fuck, but you’re content with the little dynamic you have.

he’ll pull into a rest stop every time he starts feeling tired, dragging you into the driver’s side seat so he can cradle you in his arms like a little teddy bear. real sleep is done in the truck cab, under a weighted blanket he’d picked up at a strip mall in the mountains.

your “bedroom”, or the truck cab really, is a modest little room behind where the driver’s compartment is. toji tore out the twin sized mattress 2 weeks into your little arrangement, replacing it with a queen sized memory foam one. “a good investment” he called it.

you two rarely if ever sleep in there though. opting for the comfort of a hotel room over the glorified backseat of a sleeping arrangement his truck has. toji can afford it, that much is obvious from how much he spends on room service per week. the man had taught you that a truck driver’s salary was more than enough to keep a girl happy, and with how much you two had been on the road, he was easily reaching the 6-figure mark.

most people would get sick of being forced to spend so much quality time with each other. you never will.

you’ll never get tired of waking up in a different place every morning, spending hours exploring new cities with your favorite boy. you’ll never get tired the way you learn something new about him everyday. a new detail about the family he grew up with, a beauty mark you never noticed on his back, the way his nose scrunches when you say something funny.

you’ll never get tired of the way he stalks up to you after every other rest stop visit, hands clasped behind his back as he prepares to surprise you with whatever trinket he just bought you. and you’ll never regret your decision to be his permanent little sidekick, experiencing every day right alongside him.

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a/n: hii ! i rly rly love this au hehe, i might even like it more than prisoner toji. lmk if this should be a series, and feel free to send in related asks if u want :D

#adah’s asks #truck driver!toji #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji x fem reader #toji x fem reader smut #toji x fem reader angst #toji x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen

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thedensworld · 3 months

Text

Right Time | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Angst, exes au

Summary: you both were too young when you get together, right person-wrong time. Two years after break up, destiny brought you two again.

Author note: i'm sorry, you've asked for fluff but i serve you angst :(

Mingyu stood beside Seungcheol, both of them watching Jeonghan, who was all smiles an hour before his wedding vows, as he greeted the guests who had come to celebrate his special day. Mingyu sighed, thinking that the day had finally come. Jeonghan had been under immense stress these past months, preparing for his wedding. He had been going through food tastings, making decoration decisions, getting suit fittings, and juggling his very busy job to earn enough money to give his future wife her dream wedding. Mingyu was tired of being his friend and unofficial personal punching bag.

Just then, Mingyu's eyes shifted to a three-year-old girl running toward them, and his smile immediately grew wider. Seungcheol picked up his daughter, giving her all his attention while her mother, Seungcheol's wife, was busy with her bridesmaid duties as the sister of the bride.

The little girl giggled in her father's arms, her joy infectious. "Daddy, look! Flowers!" she exclaimed, pointing at the floral arrangements that adorned the venue.

Mingyu chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth wash over him. Despite the chaos and the stress, moments like these made it all worth it. He glanced at Seungcheol, who was whispering something to his daughter that made her laugh even harder. Mingyu couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with happiness for his friend.

"She's a bundle of energy, isn't she?" Mingyu remarked, smiling at the scene.

Seungcheol nodded, his eyes twinkling with pride. "She definitely keeps us on our toes."

As they stood there, watching the guests mingle and Jeonghan's nervous excitement, Mingyu realized that despite all the stress and exhaustion, witnessing his friend's happiness was something truly special. Today was a day for celebration, a day to cherish, and a day that marked the beginning of a beautiful journey for Jeonghan and his future wife.

Flowers hung elegantly, their sweet fragrance blending with the smell of freshly baked goods and sumptuous food. The lively chatter of people filled the air, a symphony of joyous voices. All of these scenes were too familiar to Mingyu. He sighed, the memories flooding back, reminding him of his first meeting with you at Seungcheol's wedding.

You were Seungcheol's wife's cousin and one of the bridesmaids, while he was one of the groomsmen. Mingyu vividly remembered watching you during the wedding preparations. He saw you running around, talking, and dealing with the organizer to ensure everything ran smoothly while the bride and groom enjoyed their final moments of calm before entering a new stage of life.

Your first interaction was unforgettable. Mingyu had saved you from a potential disaster when you almost tripped over a cable and fell into the dessert section. He immediately grabbed your arm, pulling you to safety, your body colliding with his.

"You good?" Mingyu asked, noticing the color drain from your face.

A heavy breath escaped your mouth. "I almost got myself in trouble," you mumbled, trying to steady yourself while your heart still pounded rapidly.

"Thanks... Mingyu, right?"

Mingyu nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Do you need help?" he asked, noticing how rushed you were earlier.

"Oh shoot! I need to go," you exclaimed, holding a key.

'You want to leave now?' he thought.

"The second dress was left at the hotel. They have to change in an hour," you explained after Mingyu inquired about your urgency.

Mingyu's eyes widened as panic surged through him. "Let me drive you there," he offered. You nodded, handing him the key, and the two of you sprinted to the car.

Just as you were about to leave, you received a call. It turned out your mother had already brought the dress, and it was in her car. The rush of adrenaline subsided, and both of you couldn't help but laugh at the chaos.

"Guess we didn't need to be superheroes today," Mingyu joked, relieved.

"Yeah, but thank you," you said, a warm smile spreading across your face. "I really appreciate your help."

After that day, the two of you kept in touch. Mingyu eventually confessed that he had a crush on you and asked you out on a date, which you gladly accepted. Months later, you were officially dating. Seungcheol and his wife were thrilled, knowing they had played a part in bringing you together. However, they were equally flustered when, three years later, Seungcheol was informed that you and Mingyu had broken up.

Three years of dating, and it's now been two years since you separated. Despite the passage of time, not a single minute went by without Mingyu thinking of you.

As he stood there, watching Jeonghan’s wedding preparations, the memories of your relationship played in his mind like a film. He remembered the laughter, the shared dreams, and even the arguments that made the bond stronger. You were his best friend, his confidant, and losing you felt like losing a part of himself.

Mingyu sighed, the weight of nostalgia heavy on his heart. The sight of the beautifully decorated venue, the smell of flowers, and the sound of joyous chatter brought everything back in vivid detail. He couldn't help but wonder what you were doing now, if you were happy, and if you ever thought about him too.

He glanced at Seungcheol, who was busy with his daughter, and thought about the twists and turns life takes. Love is unpredictable, he mused. One moment you're on top of the world, and the next, you're struggling to find your footing.

Despite the bittersweet memories, Mingyu felt a glimmer of hope. Today was a day of celebration, a reminder that love, in all its forms, is worth cherishing. As Jeonghan prepared to embark on his own journey of love, Mingyu silently wished for a future where he might find happiness again, perhaps even with you.

As Mingyu stood lost in his thoughts, he suddenly caught sight of you entering the venue. His heart skipped a beat, and he blinked several times, thinking he might be daydreaming. But you were really there, looking breathtaking in a beautiful dress that perfectly complemented your skin tone. Your hair was longer than he remembered, cascading gracefully down your back, and the sight of you took his breath away.

For a moment, everything else faded into the background. The smell of flowers, the chatter of the guests, the sight of Jeonghan greeting everyone—all of it became a blur as Mingyu's focus zeroed in on you. His heart pounded in his chest, beating the same way it did the first time he saw you.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. Every step you took seemed to bring back a flood of memories: your first date, the countless laughs, the shared moments of vulnerability, and even the quiet, content times you spent together doing nothing at all. Mingyu's pulse quickened as he watched you smile and greet the other guests, looking as radiant as ever.

Suddenly, Seungcheol noticed the shift in Mingyu’s demeanor. Following his friend's gaze, Seungcheol’s eyes landed on you, and he gave Mingyu a knowing smile. "Go talk to her," Seungcheol encouraged softly, nudging him forward.

Mingyu hesitated for a second, a mix of anxiety and excitement swirling inside him. Taking a deep breath, he began to make his way through the crowd toward you. Each step felt like an eternity, but eventually, he stood before you.

You looked up, and your eyes met his. For a brief moment, everything else disappeared, and it was just the two of you. The surprise in your eyes mirrored his own, and a small, nostalgic smile played on your lips.

"Hi," Mingyu said, his voice barely above a whisper, his emotions threatening to spill over.

"Hi," you replied, your voice soft yet filled with a warmth that made his heart ache.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply taking in the sight of each other after so long. Then, Mingyu found his voice again. "You look... amazing. More beautiful than ever."

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you looked down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Thank you, Mingyu. It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has," he said, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Mingyu opened his mouth to say more, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. His nervousness intensified, making him momentarily forget how to speak. You offered him a gentle, understanding smile, perhaps sensing his hesitation.

"I should go greet the bride," you said softly, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "We'll catch up later, okay?"

Mingyu nodded, unable to trust his voice, and watched as you gracefully walked away toward the bride. His heart sank a little, disappointment mixing with his nerves. He had so much he wanted to say, but the opportunity had slipped through his fingers.

Seungcheol, who had been observing the interaction from a distance, walked up to Mingyu with a knowing look. "You alright, buddy?" he asked, clapping a hand on Mingyu's shoulder.

Mingyu let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I froze, Seungcheol. I couldn’t say anything meaningful."

Seungcheol chuckled softly. "It's understandable. It's been a long time, and seeing her again can stir up a lot of emotions."

Mingyu nodded, his eyes still following you as you chatted with the bride and other bridesmaids. "I just... I didn't expect to feel this way. It's like no time has passed at all, and I still... I still care about her so much."

Seungcheol gave him a sympathetic smile. "Feelings like that don’t just disappear. But hey, you have the whole day ahead. There will be plenty of opportunities to talk to her. Maybe start with something simple, like asking her to dance."

Mingyu glanced at Seungcheol, a hint of hope in his eyes. "You think so?"

Seungcheol nodded confidently. "Absolutely. Just be yourself, Mingyu. You two had something special, and who knows? Maybe today is a chance to rekindle that."

Taking a deep breath, Mingyu tried to calm his racing heart. "Thanks, Seungcheol. I’ll give it a shot."

As the ceremony drew closer, Mingyu resolved to find the right moment to talk to you again. He couldn't let fear hold him back. Today was about new beginnings, and perhaps, it could be the start of something beautiful for both of you.

After the wedding vows, it was time for the group photos. Mingyu positioned himself not too far from the newlyweds, while you stood directly in front of him. The familiar scent of your perfume and your hair, the same fragrance you always wore when you were together, wafted toward him, triggering a flood of memories.

As the photographer arranged everyone into position, you brushed your hair back, and that's when Mingyu noticed it—a ring wrapped around your left finger. His heart sank, and a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. You’re engaged? he wondered, his mind racing.

A mix of shock, sadness, and confusion gripped him. Part of him had held onto the hope that, despite the time and distance, there might still be a chance for the two of you to rekindle what you once had. But now, seeing that ring, reality hit him hard.

He tried to keep his composure, but his mind was in turmoil. He remembered all the moments you shared, the dreams you talked about, the future you once envisioned together. The thought of you being engaged to someone else was like a punch to the gut.

Mingyu forced a smile for the camera, but inside, he felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under him. He glanced at you, wondering if you were truly happy and if the person who had given you that ring knew just how special you were. Did they know your little quirks, your favorite things, and the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved?

The photographer called for everyone to get closer, and Mingyu found himself standing right behind you. The scent of your perfume was almost overwhelming now, and he struggled to focus on anything else. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart.

As the flash went off, Mingyu realized he had to accept the situation. He had no right to feel jealous or upset. You had moved on, found happiness with someone else, and that was something he needed to respect. But the realization didn't make the pain any less.

After the photos were taken, Mingyu stepped aside, feeling a profound sense of loss. He had to come to terms with the fact that you were no longer his and that your paths had diverged. But as he watched you laugh and talk with the other guests, he couldn't help but hope that whoever had given you that ring cherished you as much as he did.

As Mingyu stepped aside after the photos, a deep sense of regret washed over him, intensifying with each passing moment. The sight of the ring on your finger brought back the memory of the night you asked to separate. He had replayed that scene countless times in his mind, wishing he had done things differently.

He remembered how you had looked at him, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "Mingyu, I think we need to take a break," you had said, your voice trembling slightly. At the time, he had been too caught up in his own confusion and frustration to truly understand the depth of your feelings.

Instead of staying and talking things through, he had walked away, convinced that space would be the best solution. He thought that maybe, with time, things would work themselves out. But as the days turned into weeks and then months, the distance between you only grew, and before he knew it, you were gone from his life.

Now, standing at Jeonghan's wedding, the weight of his decision felt heavier than ever. He regretted leaving that night, regretted not fighting harder for what you had. He should have listened, should have stayed to understand the fears and doubts you were experiencing. Instead, he had let his pride and stubbornness drive a wedge between you.

Mingyu's eyes followed you as you mingled with the other guests, your laughter ringing out, a bittersweet sound to his ears. You seemed happy, and that was what he wanted for you, even if it wasn't with him. But the regret gnawed at him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

As the evening progressed, Mingyu found himself lost in thought, barely aware of the festivities around him. Seungcheol, noticing his friend's distant expression, approached him once more.

"You okay?" Seungcheol asked gently, his concern evident.

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I keep thinking about the night we broke up. I should have stayed, Seungcheol. I should have fought for her."

Seungcheol nodded, understanding the pain in Mingyu's voice. "We all make mistakes, Mingyu. What's important is what you do now. Maybe it's time to let go of the past and focus on the present. Who knows? Maybe there's still a chance for you to find closure, if not with her, then within yourself."

Mingyu pondered Seungcheol's words, knowing there was truth in them. He couldn't change the past, but he could learn from it. And maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to move forward.

As the night went on, Mingyu made a silent promise to himself. He would try to find peace with his regrets and open his heart to whatever the future might hold. And as he watched you, now engaged and seemingly content, he wished you nothing but happiness, even if it meant letting go of the dreams he once had for the two of you.

The little things had snowballed into something that finally hit you that night. You were exhausted from work, your phone buzzing incessantly with texts from Mingyu. Just as you managed to lay yourself on the couch, the door suddenly burst open, revealing Mingyu looking restless and breathless.

"Where have you been?! I've been trying to reach you all day," he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration and worry.

You sighed deeply, turning your back to him, too drained to respond. Mingyu let out a humorless chuckle, stepping closer. He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around, not realizing his strength might hurt you, and shoved his phone in your face, displaying your unread chat messages from the past week.

"You haven't read my texts for almost a week, Y/N. Don't you know I'm worried?!"

You felt the sting of his grip, but more than that, the sting of the situation settled heavily in your chest. You placed your hand on the sore spot, rising from the couch with what little energy you had left, trying to walk away to the bedroom without a word.

"Now you think I'm invisible? What the fuck, Y/N?" Mingyu's voice rose, a mix of anger and hurt.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a combination of physical pain, exhaustion, and emotional turmoil. You turned to face Mingyu, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just so tired, Mingyu. Tired of everything."

He stood there, watching you closely, his initial anger fading as he saw the tears streaming down your face. "Why didn't you just tell me?" His tone softened now, filled with concern.

You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of everything. "I didn't want to burden you. You've got your own things to deal with."

Mingyu's expression softened further, but a flicker of hurt crossed his features. "We're supposed to share the burdens, remember? That's what being together means."

You looked into his eyes, searching for the reassurance you desperately needed. "I know," you admitted softly, "but it feels like we've been drifting apart. And tonight, I just... I couldn't handle it."

Mingyu's concern turned into frustration, his voice rising slightly. "So you decided to handle it all on your own? Do you know how that makes me feel, Y/N?"

You flinched at the edge in his voice, feeling the weight of his disappointment. "Mingyu, I didn't mean..."

"No," he interrupted, his tone sharp. "You didn't mean to shut me out when I've been trying so hard to be there for you?"

You bit your lip, tears now flowing freely. "I... I didn't know how to ask for help. I thought I could handle it."

"And now look where we are," Mingyu said bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "You're drowning in silence, and I'm left feeling useless."

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't realize..."

Mingyu closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to calm himself. When he opened them again, his gaze softened, but the hurt was still evident. "I love you, Y/N," he said quietly. "But I can't keep fighting for a place in your life if you won't let me in."

You reached out to him, wanting to bridge the distance between you. "Mingyu, please..."

He stepped back, shaking his head. "I need time to figure things out, Y/N. I can't do this if you're pushing me away."

You felt a hollow ache in your chest as Mingyu's words hung in the air. The idea of losing him was unbearable, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were dragging him down, that you were undeserving of his love and patience. Summoning what little strength you had left, you took a shaky breath and spoke the words that felt like shards of glass in your throat.

"Mingyu," you began, your voice trembling, "maybe it's best if we... if we take a break."

His eyes widened in shock, the hurt in them deepening. "What? No, Y/N, that's not what I want."

You shook your head, tears still streaming down your face. "I can't keep hurting you like this. You deserve someone who can let you in, someone who can be there for you the way you are for me. And right now, I just... I can't."

"I need to figure things out on my own. I need to learn how to be okay with myself before I can be with you."

He looked at you for a long moment, searching for any sign that you might change your mind. When he found none, he nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "If that's what you really want..."

"It's not what I want," you said, your voice barely audible. "But it's what I think is best for both of us."

With one last, lingering look, Mingyu turned and walked away, each step feeling like a knife to your heart. You watched him go, knowing that you were making the hardest decision of your life, hoping that someday, you could find your way back to each other.

As the door closed behind him, you sank to the floor, overcome with grief and loneliness. The silence of the room was deafening, but you knew that this was the first step towards healing, for both you and Mingyu.

As the door clicked shut behind Mingyu, a wave of emptiness washed over you, mingled with an unsettling sense of disappointment. You had expected him to protest more, to fight harder to stay. Instead, he had walked away, leaving you to grapple with the decision alone.

You sat there, staring at the door, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlpool. The weight of his absence pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. Was this really what you wanted? Or had you hoped, deep down, that he would refuse to leave, that he would insist on staying and helping you through this?

The room felt colder, the silence oppressive. Your mind replayed the conversation, analyzing every word, every gesture. Had he given up too easily? Or was it your fault for pushing him away in the first place?

As you sat there, the silence of the room pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket. The ache in your chest grew with each passing second. Your thoughts spiraled deeper into despair, and a new, more insidious fear began to take root.

Maybe Mingyu had had enough of you. Maybe he was already tired of dealing with your endless complications and emotional turmoil. Maybe he, like everyone else, had decided you weren't worth the fight.

Your mind flashed back to countless moments in your past, memories you had tried so hard to bury. You remembered the times when your emotions had been dismissed, your thoughts invalidated. When you had tried to reach out, only to be met with indifference or impatience.

Your parents, who had always told you to toughen up, to stop being so sensitive. Friends who had drifted away because your struggles were too much for them to handle. Teachers who had dismissed your anxiety as laziness, your depression as a phase. You had learned, painfully and slowly, that you had to figure things out on your own because no one else would.

And now Mingyu had done the same. The last person you had hoped would stick by you had walked away. You had pushed him, yes, but you had also hoped, deep down, that he would push back. That he would prove he was different. But he hadn't.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you let them fall, each one a testament to the weight of your pain. It felt like you were falling into an abyss, a dark void where every painful memory and fear resurfaced.

You recalled a particularly vivid memory from your childhood. You were eight years old, sitting on the steps of your house, crying because the neighborhood kids had teased you for being different. Your mother had found you there, her expression a mixture of exasperation and disappointment.

"Why are you crying again?" she had asked, her tone sharp. "You need to learn to handle things on your own. The world isn't going to coddle you."

That had been the first of many lessons in self-reliance, each one more painful than the last. You had learned to hide your pain, to smile when you were breaking inside, to carry burdens that felt too heavy to bear.

And now, sitting alone in the silence of your apartment, you realized that those lessons had led you to this moment. You had pushed Mingyu away, convinced that you had to handle everything on your own, that you were too much for anyone else to handle. And he had walked away, just like everyone else.

The weight of your loneliness was crushing. You curled up on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, and let the sobs wrack your body. It felt like your heart was breaking into a million pieces, each one sharper than the last.

You stayed there for what felt like hours, lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts and memories. Eventually, the tears slowed, and a cold numbness settled in. You knew you had to pick yourself up, to move forward somehow. But the path ahead felt more daunting than ever.

Maybe you were destined to be alone, to carry your burdens without help. Maybe you were too complicated, too difficult for anyone to truly love. And maybe, just maybe, the one person you had thought would fight for you had finally realized it too.

With a heavy heart, you forced yourself to stand, wiping away the remnants of your tears. You knew you had to find a way to heal, to navigate this pain. But for now, all you could do was take one small step at a time, hoping that someday, you might find the strength to believe in love again.

Seungcheol entered the car as soon as his daughter was settled in the backseat. He threw one last glance through the rearview mirror and smiled at the sight of her slumbering after spending all of her energy today. Her peaceful face was a welcome relief from the emotional turmoil of the evening.

"Are we gonna let him be like that?" Nari's voice broke the silence, and Seungcheol could sense she was referring to Mingyu.

He turned on the engine and hummed thoughtfully, "It's the best for him right now."

Nari stared at Seungcheol with a worried look, her concern evident. "But Y/N is not engaged. It's just a ring," she said, finally voicing the worry she'd been holding since the venue at Jeonghan's wedding.

"That's exactly why this is best for him," Seungcheol replied. "He couldn't even confront her and ask about the ring. He just stood there, trapped in his own thoughts, just like what happened two years ago."

Images of you and Mingyu after the breakup flashed through his mind. Mingyu, lost in his own assumptions, believing you didn't want him anymore. You, burdened by your unfinished past and struggling to heal.

"Y/N is different now, though," Nari insisted softly. "She's healed. Maybe there's a chance for them."

Seungcheol glanced at his wife and chuckled softly. "And what about Mingyu? Boys never learn, babe. It takes a man to confront a woman."

Nari sighed deeply, her eyes reflecting a mix of hope and sadness. "I just thought they were 'the right people at the wrong time.'"

Seungcheol grabbed his wife's hand and pecked it gently. "There is no 'right time,' babe. People make the time right. Mingyu couldn't do that. He might look perfect on the outside, but he's still a human with his own flaws."

Nari looked out the window, her thoughts seemingly far away. "Do you think they'll ever get another chance?"

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment, considering her question. "Maybe. Life has a way of bringing people back together when the time is right. But for now, they need to work on themselves. Y/N has come a long way, and Mingyu needs to catch up."

"But," Seungcheol continued, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and realism, "if they are truly meant to be, they'll find their way back to each other. And if not, they'll still be stronger and better for having known each other."

Nari squeezed his hand gently, her eyes softening. "I hope so. They both deserve happiness."

Seungcheol smiled at her, appreciating her empathy. "They do. And they'll find it, one way or another. We just have to give them time and trust that they'll make the right choices."

As they drove away from the venue, the city lights gradually fading into the distance, Seungcheol felt a sense of peace settle over him. He hoped that Mingyu and you would find the courage to face your fears and the strength to build the lives you deserved. For now, all he could do was support his friend and trust that everything would unfold as it should.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #mingyu imagines #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu angst #mingyu fluff #mingyu fic #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagine

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mrcavill88 · 1 year

Text

My night in Hollywood

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Chris Evans x Henry Cavill x Male reader

Summary: Your first film role definitely has its ups and downs. A large pay check? Good. A kickstart to your career? Even better. But a night with three of Hollywoods leading men? The absolute best

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, daddy kink, pet names “little boy, baby, doll”, ass slapping, stripping, nipple playing, breeding kink, dick sucking, handjob, unprotected sex

Who knew being famous was so tough?

I’m constantly being bombarded by fans desperate for an autograph. The Hollywood life seems glamorous, and that it is, but not without its downside. The upside? All the hot actors in Hollywood, oh how I loved seeing a sexy man on screen. I recently landed a role on a film with some of Hollywoods leading men and holy cow was it a joyride. I walked into the hotel I would be staying at for the shooting of this film and who do I see as soon as I walk into the elevator? Henry Cavill, Sebastian Stan, and Chris Evans.

The scarlet color on my face is noticeable as I instantly start fanboying over the three buff men. “Hello there, you’re y/n right? I’m Henry, pleasure to meet you love”. He stuck his thick hand out and I shook it with much ebullience. I took my spot in the elevator, right in between Sebastian and Chris, feeling so small next to the 6 feet men.

What was in reality 30 seconds felt like 3 hours in the elevator. Sweat building up on my forehead as the men continued to spark conversation with me. My words fumbled and completely shaky. We reached my floor and I bolted out the doors and hastily walked to my room and instantly shut the door. I was a mess. My chest popping in and out of my body, a noticeable bulge in my tight pants. But as I went to change my clothes, a small envelope slid through my door.

“Reservation at Giovanni’s Italian cuisine for two, 7:30 pm at the luxury suite.

My baby y/n, please join me tonight for dinner, I would love to get to know you. See you soon, Sebastian”

I was fucked. Butterflies pacing through my stomach as the feeling of love and affection enveloped my soul. But was I gonna pass up this opportunity? Hell no. I checked the clock and it was currently 6:00, “how the hell did he reserve the place so quickly?” I thought. I rushed into my luggage and picked out a loose blue and white striped button up and white kakis which kinda showed off my ass.

I got into my car, put my sunglasses on and started driving to the restaurant. “What if he doesn’t like me?” “What if this is all a joke?” Thoughts filled my head as I headed to the restaurant, making me more nervous than I already was.

I walked in and it was the most classy restaurant I have ever been to. Red velvety floors covered the place with beautiful floral arrangements and classical music. “Reservation with Sebastian at 7:30, in the luxury suite,” I said to the hostess. “Right this way please,” she replied as we walked up the extravagant stairs into the luxury suite. She opened the door and

There he was

Waiting for me in a tight black polo shirt that complimented his rippling biceps, and jeans that were definitely, tight. “H-hi Sebastian,” I said with a trembling voice. He walked up to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Hey y/n, I’m so happy you came tonight, I hope you like this place cause I really wanted to have a great time tonight, please sit.”

I sat down in the expensive chair and couldn’t help but notice the beautiful view from the window. “Wow! This place is so nice, I can see the whole city from here!” Sebastian grabbed my hand. “Yeah it’s nice but I think I like what I see from here more,” biting his lip. I instantly started blushing, biting my lip to try and calm it down but the redness of my cheeks just got more obvious. I was completely fucked, in a desperate way to change the subject, “So, I wanna try this ravioli they got here, I heard it’s amazing”, I said trying to change the subject. “Yeah let me order, I already know what I’m getting”.

Sebastian ordered our food and I was set for the best date, and the first date, of my life. Who knew a celebrity could be so down to earth and so cordial? But of course, the physical and, sexual appeal was crazy as the Romanian man was extremely romantic.

“Oh, well I’m stuffed, we should get going. This food is pre-paid so don’t even worry about it. Should I take you home?” “Oh thanks but I drove here so I think I’ll be fine,” I answered. “Are you sure?”, he asked with a serious somewhat dour look on his face. “Uhm, actually, maybe you should,” I said nervously hoping he wouldn’t be offended.

We cleaned up and left the restaurant, he took me into his expensive car and started driving back to the hotel. Something felt off, he was being extremely seductive and touchy, grabbing my thigh and rubbing my chest. Did I like it? Of course.

I walked into the hotel and entered the elevator with him just to see two familiar faces once again, Chris and Henry.

“Oh y/n! Great to see you again! Looks like you’ve had some fun with my friend Seb huh?” Chris said with a funny expression. I couldn’t help but nod and gulp as I entered the elevator with the three men.

We were going up and all of a sudden, Sebastian presses the emergency stop button. I was completely confounded, not knowing what was going on. I tried to push the button again but the three men cornered me in this godforsaken box.

“What does this little boy think he’s doing?” Henry asked as he stroked my hair. I started to sweat, and slightly panic. “W-why’d you stop the elevator?” I said hoping this just was some kind of stupid joke. I reached for the button again until Sebastian covered my mouth with his large hand and pinned me up against the wall.

I didn’t even have time to say anything before my clothes started coming off. They started kissing and biting my body relentlessly and I couldn’t help but moan and whine. “Oh baby I wanna fuck you so bad,” Sebastian said as he and Chris started removing my shirt and pants, leaving me in my tiny little spandex.

“Lay in my lap doll,” Henry said gesturing toward me. I felt so exposed and fragile in the moment. “Count” he said as he smacked my ass cheek. I screamed and jolted a little at the surprising pain and arousal that came from it, “o-one” *SMACK* “t-two” *SMACK* “t-three”. One slap quickly became 15 as Henry continued slapping my ass cheeks until they were bright scarlet and my cheeks were soaked in tears.

“What a good boy you are, now let daddy make you feel good,” Sebastian sad as he grabbed my and gagged my mouth. I was in heaven. Henry started twisting and teasing my nipples as Chris shoved his fingers in and out of my hole. Sebastian rubbing up against my body and his dirty talk made me more aroused than I should’ve been. Cock twitching and my skin soaked in sweat. “Daddy!” I whined as my body was being violated by three sexy men. “Oh the things you do to me baby, now open up for daddy”.

Sebastian whipped out his 10 inch cock and teased my hole making more unholy noises leave my mouth. And all of a sudden, *THRUST* his dick was sliding in and out my hole at a rapid pace. Henry shoved his dick into my mouth and started fucking my face. I moaned on his dick sending vibrations up his cock. “Ugh f-fuck baby you’re so naughty. In the midst of all this sexual pleasure, Chris shoved his dick in my hand. “Come on baby, make me cum,” he said as I started jerking him off.

I was gonna lose it, my body completely drowned in pleasure. “D-addy, I c-can’t take it! I’m gonna c-cum daddy!”. “C-come on baby, w-wait for your daddies, don’t be a s-selfish little b-boy”. At those words, my cock shot a load of cum onto Sebastian’s broad chest. Sebastian felt my hole tighten around his cock and came in my hole, filling my walls with his warm and sticky baby batter. I was completely cum drunk. I collapsed onto Henry’s chest. The three men held me in their strong embrace as the night neared its end, nothing could have ruined this night, except the fact that we were in a damn elevator.

THE END

Thanks for reading everyone hope y’all enjoyed it! (I know it kinda sucks)

#Henrycavill #chris evans #sebastian stan #henry cavill x y/n #chris evans x y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #gay #gaysmut #henry cavill x male reader #chris evans x male reader #sebastian stan x male reader #fanfic

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russellsppttemplates · 7 months

Note

A blurb for Max Verstappen where he does his best to keep you and the kids away from the Drive to Survive netflix crew but wants you around the new docuseries being filmed about Max and his life off the track

"Netflix people are going to be in our garage tomorrow morning", Max said as he came out of the ensuite bathroom, careful with the noise he was making as the kids were in the living room area of the hotel room, the sofas turning into beds so they could sleep near you still despite the half wall that created a sense of separation between the spaces.

"So we'll just join you for the afternoon then", you added, showing him your understood what he meant, "have you spoken to them about us not wanting their faces shown in the show? You know how they sometimes record the paddock and other people show. I know it's inevitable sometimes, mas maybe blurr it out or something", you tried.

"Yes, I spoke to them this morning. They seemed understanding enough, although there was the usual comment of why and if they could do this or that", Max shrugged, getting in the bed next to you, "what did you tell them?", you wondered.

"Didn't let them get too far. They already know where we stand with you and the kids showing up, so there's not need to beat around the bush again and again. They're butthurt because you appear on the docuseries, but it sounds like it's a their problem and not ours, so I'm not too fussed. And neither should you be", he smiled, kissing your cheek and letting you snuggle up to him.

"Are you ready, Y/N?", one of the producers asked as they arranged the camera on your car so it could catch both you and the person asking the questions.

"I'm going to pick up the kids from school now, they're at a very good age now where it's not hard getting them to leave the house in the morning because they love going to school, but also not too hard to get them to leave school because they also love being at home and know they'll see their friends tomorrow", you chuckled, remembering Finn's tantrum when you wanted to take him home and he wanted to stay in school because he wanted to keep paying with his friends whose parents were running a little bit late to pick them up too.

"Is it hard juggling all of this with Max being away for some good chunks of time every now and again?", she asked as you stopped at a red light.

"It isn't as hard as before", you reasoned, "when they were younger and their needs were different, I relied a lot on my mother in law and my parents whenever Max wasn't home, which was really mostly weekends because he arranged the schedule and RedBull made it work. But now they're older and they're at a stage where they are a little bit more independent and, honestly, we just take each day as it comes and go from there", you smiled.

"How is parenting along with Max?", she wondered, "you know, there are many moments in parenting where you think 'this is definitely not the way we should do this but it works for now so we just stick to it' - and you really hope for the best in these cases -, but last week we both went to a parent-teacher meeting and both teachers said that the kids were doing well, they were kind, empathetic, respectful. - And what is there more to ask, you know? - we both got out of the meeting and we're like 'yeah, this parenting thing is going just fine',", you smiled, "obviously, we got home to our little girl having a meltdown about not being able to fly, but really? It's an amazing journey parenting with Max, even when he has to tell our daughter that that's not something humans do and let her mourn a capacity she never had", you chuckled.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

#max verstappen blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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cuckoldlifeofjosie · 7 days

Text

(A Spin On The Last Post I Reblogged Making It My Own) An affair is a prolonged pattern of emotional and physical infidelity and involves significant deception and betrayal. It is not the same as cuckolding a fantasy you and your wife made a reality a long while ago. It was just about her getting fucked by other men, to enjoy sexual variety and pleasure without emotional attachment and to fulfill your submissive fantasy. She met him at a work function. Even texted you that a cute handsome man was flirting with her. You encouraged her to pursue it. Your wife told you it was fun, but nothing came of it. She knew she could share it with you, but decided to keep it to herself. What she felt scared her a little bit. It made her excited and impulsive. Their connection was immediate. A feeling like they already knew each-other, their energies naturally aligned. There is that unspoken ease when you meet the right person. Ease of your interactions, how the conversations flow effortlessly, how you feel understood without having to explain yourself.

She found comfort in his presence, that sense of familiarity and safety that feels almost magnetic. It is not something us humans often feel except before we fall in love.

Their first kiss came easy as the second and third. Their bond grew quickly and were easily able to arrange seeing eathother through their work their professional life.

When together, the sex was amazing, better than any of the cuckold fucking she had experienced. Not only is he skilled, dominant and well hung there is not only a shared sexual chemistry but a deeper emotional and intellectual connection that makes her feel seen by him, appreciated and their love making is completely in sync. The significant deception and betrayal. Days she is taking off work and telling you she is going to the office. Work trips and conferences where they are staying in the same hotel room together. Late nights at work, nights out with her girlfriends. Lying has become easy for her. It is not cuckolding it is cheating. She is in love with another man.

You though suspect she is cheating. It hurts, why wouldn't she tell you and share this experience with you? It tears your heart apart. The betrayal by your wife, the fear she is going to leave you. The shame of not being enough and that loss of trust.

Then you start stroking your little dick. The power dynamic of your bread winning wife having an affair, that feeling of jealousy you love. You feel submissive. Expecting she is falling in love with another man drives your mind to the ultimate cuckolding. You look at her, she is now more powerful and unattainable and she is your wife. The fact she’s stepping outside you marriage only amplifies her sexual power in you eyes. This dynamic plays into a deeper psychological thrill. Knowing that you are not her primary source of satisfaction, yet you have the privilege of loving and supporting her. At home taking care of the house and kids while she is away for the week on a "work trip" on vacation with the man she has fallen in love with and will risk it all to keep it all.

She is the Alpha and you are the the Beta. You wouldn't want it any other way. All her colleagues and friends are well aware of her affair. She tells them the two of you are in an open relationship, painting a picture of mutual understanding that you haven't yet fully accepted.

At some point, the truth between you both will have to surface. Her affair, her deepening feelings, being in love another man, and her desire to continue this relationship without leaving you, and breaking up your family are all coming to a head.

She doesn’t want to choose between you and him. She wants more time with him, and now you will know she’s not just working late or spending a night or two away on a business trip. She will do it openly and you will be left to explain it to the kids.

The question is, how much of a cuckold are you willing to be? How far will you go to pedestal her desires and accept her choices? Can you truly love her unconditionally, knowing that her heart and body are being shared with someone else? The line between love, devotion, and self-sacrifice will blur as you wrestle with your role in this marriage, and you’ll have to decide how much you're willing to give while maintaining your own sense of worth or letting it go.

#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#sharing wife #wifeinlove #emasculated #cheatingwife

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wonder-innie · 3 months

Text

beach resort

bf!jeongin x fem!reader. smut (mdni)

— ;; Jeongin surprised you with a reservation at a beach resort, but he is just so hot and you are just so horny.

a.n: english is not my first language and this is my first time writing smut.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: dom!jeongin, creampie, slight breeding kink, fingering, oral (f. receiving), spanking, boob play, teasing, edging, dirty talking.

For your third anniversary, Jeongin surprised you with a reservation at the most expensive beach resort in South Korea. You were about to spent a whole week with your lovely boyfriend and, even better, you were going to share bed with him.

You had two days to pack your suitcase and buy all the necessary items. First, you bought essentials such as sunscreen. Then, you went shopping for new bikinis. The ones you had were fine, but you wanted the best ones to surprise Jeongin (and make him horny). Once you were done, you went home and finished packing your luggage.

It was finally Monday, Jeongin parked his car in front of your door and rang your bell. When you opened the door you saw him wearing a white shirt with a few buttons open, revealing the line of his pecs. You basically jumped into his arms and kissed him.

“Are you ready, babe?” Jeongin said with a smile on his face, you nodded in response before giving him another kiss.

He carried your luggage to the trunk of the car while you waited for him in the front seat. It was a hot day, but Jeongin turned on the air conditioner so it was kind of cold inside. He got into the car and started driving.

You stared at him while he was driving, he just looked so damn hot wearing than outfit. Not only were his pecs showing, but also his bulging biceps, it was no secret he started going to the gym more often. Your eyes traveled to his hands, holding the wheel, those manly hands you loved so much. You remembered all the things he had done to you with those fingers.

Jeongin noticed what was going on, and instead of calling you out he decided to place his hand in your bare thigh. That took you out of you trance, you gulped and felt how your cheeks turned red. He then squeezed your thigh slightly, sending thousand of vibrations to your body. You needed him, right now.

“Innie…” you mumbled with a weak voice.

“Yes?” he asked with an innocent tone and a smile in his face, pretending being oblivious when he did know what he was doing to you. “What is it?”

You were about to open your mouth when, suddenly, Jeongin’s phone began to ring, it was like if someone just threw a bucket of cold water at you. He took his hand off your thigh to answer. Apparently, Hyunjin called him because he forgot where Jeongin was even though he told him about the trip a week ago. You sighed deeply before falling asleep.

"Baby, we're here. Wake up," Jeongin said loudly, touching your shoulder and shaking it a little. You opened your eyes, and the first thing you saw was the resort through the car window.

You checked in and the receptionist gave you the key of your room. The bellman guided you to it as he carried all the luggage, Jeongin tried to help him but he refused.

The hotel room was big and luxurious, with elegant decor. In the middle of the room, there's a large king-sized bed with soft bedding and many pillows. There was also a well-stocked minibar that with a variety of drinks and snacks. The large mirror on the left side of the bed made the room look even bigger. On the other hand, the bathroom had a private jacuzzi, perfect for relaxing.

The bellman left the luggage in the floor before leaving you two alone. Without wasting a second, you started to unpack, hanging your clothes in the spacious closet and arranging your belongings.

It was five o'clock, and you still had time to enjoy the beach. However, you had different plans. You put your arms around his neck and started kissing him. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer. The kiss became more passionate with each passing second. You sneaked your hands inside his shirt, wanting to take it off. But he grabbed your hands.

“Don’t be greedy” he whispered before pulling your hands away from his shirt. He then started walking to the bathroom. “Get ready, we are leaving in five”

Jeongin had a grin on his face, clearly was enjoying this, he loved teasing you. He knew you were desperate for his cock, still he preferred edging you.

“Fine” you replied with an angry tone, rolled your eyes and picked your new bikini. You put it on in the bathroom, so you can surprise him in the beach. “Two can play this game” you said to yourself.

When you got out of the bathroom, you noticed Jeongin was now wearing a black swimsuit with the same unbottoned shirt. Your shirt and shorts were hiding the bikini.

You both went to the beach, where Jeongin placed two towels in the sand. The sun was intense even though it was kind of late.

“Innie, can you pass me the sunscreen?” he nodded and handed it to you. While he was waiting for you to grab the sunscreen, you took off your shirt and short, showing your bikini. He was stared at you from head to toe. “Thank you, baby” you took the sunscreen.

You poured some sunscreen in you hands and began spreading it slowly all over your body, Jeongin couldn’t take your eyes off you. He paid special attention when you rubbed it through your boobs. You smirked, tasting the sweet revenge.

Afterwards, you asked him if he could apply sunscreen on your back, to which he quickly agreed. You laid down on the towel, waiting for his touch. As Jeongin gently applied sunscreen to your back, his touch sent shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his hands moving across your skin.

Jeongin brought his lips close to your ear, “You should know that teasing me only makes it worse” he whispered. His hands went to your lower back, almost touching your ass. He was already hard; the small bikini left little to the imagination. He hated to admit that your provocation was working. “At the end of the day, I’ll have you begging” he gave your ass a soft spank and stood up.

He took of his shirt and applied sunscreen on his body too. You tried to act the fool but you ended up reacting the same way he did with you. He stretched his arms right in front of you, so you could see how his biceps flexed.

The day went on with both of you constantly teasing each other on the beach. When the Sun was getting down, you decided to go back to the room.

The sexual tension in the resort’s elevator was too intense yet none of you said a word. Jeongin was breathing heavily.

You arrived to the room, and when you closed the door, Jeongin didn’t hesitaste in pushing you against the door and kissing you like his life depended on it. He took off your clothes so he could see your bikini. His hands traveled through your body and so did yours. Jeongin throw you to the bed face up and then bitted you lower lips with a smirk on his face.

“You really are a slut, huh? Wearing this so you can get fucked like the bitch you are” he ripped the top of your bikini and now he had full view of your tits. Without waiting a second, he started playing with your tits; he put your left nipple in his mouth as he pinched the other with his hand. You couldn’t help but to moan his name.

“Do you like it when daddy plays rough with your tits, baby?” you wanted to answer but you couldn’t, you were lost in the pleasure, his hand just felt so good in your nipple. He smacked your tit due to your lack of response, causing you to let out a load moan. “Use your fucking words”.

“Y-Yes, I love it Innie” another slap landed in your tits. “I’m sorry, d-daddy, I love it”

Jeongin kept giving attention to your boobs for a few more minutes before taking off your the bottom of your bikini. He passed his tongue through his fingers before inserting one in your soaked pussy.

“You are so wet already? I barely touched you” he laughed at how pathetic you were. He then entered another finger in you. His tongue started tracing circles in your clit. You wouldn’t last long if he kept doing that. He moved his fingers and tongue faster, massaging your clit hard. Your breathing started to become heavier, knowing you were getting closer and closer.

“D-daddy, I’m so close… please” you begged for him to continue, and he did so. Your body began arching, you were about to cum when he took his fingers out and stopped sucking your clit.

“Only good girls deserve to cum” he said with a demanding tone. You tried to talk back but before you could do it he snacked your clit. “Bad girls like you get punished and fucked hard”.

He took off his clothes, leaving his hard cock at full display. He hit your clit with the tip of his cock a few times. He then went all the way inside you with just one thrust, making you moan loudly. “So fucking tight for daddy” he groans before starting to move his hips.

His dick twitches against your walls, he was picked up a rough pace after your pussy get used to his size. He was going in and out so damn fast, making a mess out of you, you kept moaning his name. Your tits bounced with every thrust, making Jeongin’s view even better. You tried to touch your clit with your fingers, but he used one hand to stop you and the other to smack your clit once again.

“Did daddy say you can touch yourself?” he asked angrily. You shaked your head, earning another slap in your clit. “Behave if you want to cum”.

He pulled out of you, you whine pathetically. “No no, daddy put it back please. I’ll be good I promise” you started moving your hips desperately, your body was begging for his cock.

“Doggy, now” you didn’t waste a second, and obeyed. He now had full view of your ass, you started shaking it for him. He spanked you before going back in. The sound of your ass hitting his pelvis and your moans filled the room. He gave you another spank, and felt how your pussy got tighter for a second. “Damn, this pussy is just so…” he kept spanking your ass, loving how your pussy walls clutched every time his hand made contact with your ass.

Jeongin placed his feet on both sides of your body to gain more stability and go deeper, making you stay with your head down and your ass up. He grabbed your ass firmly with both hands, that let him hit the right spot. He started pounding you hard and rougher than before.

“Fuck… this pussy is taking me so good. Touch yourself for daddy” you didn’t hesitate and started rubbing your clit with your fingers. “That’s it, good girl”.

Jeongin was fucking you with no mercy as you kept abusing your clit “Daddy I’m going to…” he spanked you hard in response and sped up his pace.

“Cum on daddy’s cock, make a mess out of it” those words were exactly what you needed to let go, you did as he said and cum all over his cock. Your walls become tighter, Jeongin knew he wouldn’t last long, no when you were so tight.

“I’m so fucking close…” Jeongin said between heavy breathings, his thrusts become more erratic and desperate. “Want daddy’s cum, don’t you? You want daddy to put a baby inside of you?”

“Y-yes! Please, daddy” you shouted completely consumed by pleasure, not thinking clearly. Your mind was only thinking in Jeongin’s cock.

“Fucking take it” he came inside you, filling your little pussy with the cum you loved so much. He kept ponding you until he release the last drop of cum. He took his dick out off you and laid down next to you as you turned around.

Your hearts were beating so fast, you placed your hand in his naked and sweaty chest. “Thank you, Innie.” He passed his hand through your messy hair and kissed your forehead.

“You were perfect, baby” he murmured before kissing your forehead again. “This is only the beginning, prepare for the rest of the week”

check my masterlist

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin smut #yang jeongin #i.n #i.n smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #kpop smut #skz smut

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poppy-metal · 2 months

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augh grovelling loser married artashi.... i got really really carried away im so sorry

they want you back - they want you back so fucking bad. it haunts them every minute of every damn day. the memory of you hangs between them like a death sentence. art hates it. art's guilty over it. art remembers too well the feeling of fucking you, and he did fuck you, didn't "make love" to you the way he does with tashi. he fucked you, good and proper, like the whore you were. he dressed you in fancy clothes and pretended you didn't exist. he fucked you in hotel rooms and changed the sheets before tashi came back. every which way he wanted: rough, dirty, messy. bent over or on your knees or on your back. he spat on you, covered you in his cum, slapped you around, and the worst part of it all was you liked it. told him, "yeah, daddy, feels so good, daddy, more--"

tashi can close her eyes and conjure up that night she caught you two with painful ease. the night she made art "love" you, let you have that one nice thing before she turned you out. the night she reduced him to a crying, whimpering, begging mess, much to your shock, because that was what you looked like beneath him. and then that was it, it was over. you lost possibly the best fuck you'd ever had, and a few thousands you could have had in clothes, and you tried to move on.

they didn't. they lost the most passion and interest their bedroom life has had in ages. there was a sick connection there, between them, over you. through you, maybe. it felt good for tashi and art to have you, use you, own you. they liked it. they had been good together for you. what the fuck were they supposed to do now, when the ghost of you whispers through everything they do? a forgotten set of lingerie delivered to them, something tashi would never wear. a faint trace of cheap vanilla perfume, girlish and slightly floral, lingers on one of art's shirts. a photo resurfaces in an encrypted, secret camera folder of a dripping cunt squeezing around art's cock. you're everywhere, and you're gone.

art wants to go running back, but it takes a lot more effort for tashi duncan to grovel. to beg. but you were good for them. you might even be good for art's game, if he can have you with permission. so she relents. at first, it's gifts. with notes. expensive gifts - you know they could have only come from one place. shoes in your size. clothes to your measurements. a perfume, a lipstick, a giant arrangement of flowers. and you're trying to move on, really, you are, get a boyfriend your age who isn't married, but it's hard when you get to stare at the elegant, looping handwriting on all the expensive, cream-coloured stationary: come back. let us love you. let us take care of you. we love you. let us treat you like we should. a.d & t.d. and then you start to relent. coffee, at first. then brunches, dinners. a movie premiere, a concert for a band you like. you let them befriend you. you let art know you in a way he didn't before - your favourite foods and colours, the music you listen to, the nicknames your friends call you as inside jokes - and you let tashi meet you for the first time. how you take your coffee and how you like to dress. the car you drive and the way you eat your food.

god, and when they finally have you for the first time? well, they really, really want to show you how sorry they are. tashi eats you out with a meticulous precision - she's so good at it, and she hasn't gotten to eat a girl out in so fucking long. they spend ages with you, pressing kisses to every inch of your skin, telling you how beautiful you are, how well you behave for mommy and daddy. art mouths at your tits and your shoulders and your neck. they lavish you, worship you, revere you, because they're just so, so sorry. tashi preps you well for art's big cock. she plays with your clit while he fucks you - no, while he makes love to you.

you tell them you might need a few more apologies before you take them back.

KITTTTTTT

groveling artashi...... them buying you expensive gifts.... getting them to admit that you're the something missing from their marriage and they need you back to feed that spark - but they hurt you so bad. you felt used and discarded by them, always a second choice for art, just a toy for tashi to manipulate. it takes alot more than just pretty expensive gifts for you to consider falling back into their bed -

it's hard to keep your cool, though when art asks, with his expressive blue eyes and prince charming disposition - "be my girlfriend. please? i miss you." and it isn't lost on you that he doesn't include tashi in that statement, he's making it known he wants you on his own - and it's hard not to fold into his arms.

it's even harder when tashi asks. you didn't even know that was an option for her - that she desired you more than a sexual object. takes you on an expensive dinner date and slides close to you in the booth as she buys you wine. buys your whole meal, actually. "this could be all the time. if you let me take care of you - I know you want that. girls like you shouldn't be independent." stroking her finger down your arm. "you need a mommy." her hands on your knee now, sliding up the dress she'd had sent to your apartment specifically for tonight. the one you put on, despite everything. "and a daddy." you can't help but spread your thighs. you tell yourself it's fine because you haven't verbally given in yet, you haven't said the words. even if you let her slip a hand into your panties and stroke your cunt.

you don't say yes, even when she brings you to a hotel after and slips your dress off and lays you out and presses her slick pussy against yours - you don't say yes, but you do whine so pretty for her - you do spread your legs and let her fuck you, you do moan when she tells you she's going to ride art later and tell him about this - about your slick little pussy under hers - and how he's going to cum thinking about fucking you himself.

"he misses you so much. you're killing him - keeping this tight cunt to yourself. you know it belongs to daddy, baby. you know you're going to let us have you again and again and again, whenever we fucking want. keep making us work for it - it's just going to make it so much fucking better when you're back in our bed."

#ask #frens <3 #RAHHHHHHH #artashi x reader

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foulphantomllama · 4 months

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The Pen: One-Shot | Pool Winner

Ahn Yujin x Male Reader (POV)

I was so tired that I go straight to bed when I arrived home. And then, of course I was late in the morning. I shouldn’t be late tho. Because today was a big day. I got out from the bed, brushed my teeth and wore my jeans and shirt in nearly just five minutes. I hoped into my car and drive straight to the record studio. I worked with many famous artists. But today, IVE were visiting us to record a special track. I was too excited to see my bias, Yujin. I dreamed about this day ever since I knew that they were coming to our studio. I even prepared my albums and photocards in order to get them signed by the group. But especially Yujin.

But there was a big problem. I already got the text from my friend that says they’re about to be here. And the problem was that I forgot my bag in home. As you can guess, I was already there, at the record studio. I rushed inside my booth and make my preparations. It was that moment that I realized that I forgot my bag at home. Fuck. There was no turning back from there. They’re here, our secretary opened the booths door and said to me. I went out from the booth and greet the girls. They were even more gorgeous than they look on the screen. Especially Yujin, oh boy she was glowing. I briefed them about the song and the standart procedure, then we started. I turned back to my booth. And we did a part of the recording. I was so dehydrated and I needed a cofee break. I got out from the recording booth and went downstairs to get myself a coffee. Many of my friends from work knew that I was obssessed with Yujin. Some of them were encouraging me to talk to her. I mean, I did not see the point? What is going to happend? We suddenly start dating? I got my coffee and went upstairs.

I returned to my place and give the greenlight to the team to start recording again. But suddenly, power went out. Generators were not working. This happened to us before tho. I was familiar with the problem so we just used the backup generators. But sadly, they were no good for powering up our recording gear. It was just for lights and kitchen. So that we can survive in the studio and do the lightwork until the problem gets fixed. Sometimes it get fixed quickly, sometimes it takes a remarkable amount of time. I went out to talk to the girls agent. This kind of artists were using different artists in different countries, in US, they working with an American agent. I never seen or heard about her. So I asked how many days will the girls will be around. She told me 4 maybe 5. I said that we may have to postpone the recording for today so that the girls go to their hotels and rest. She said it is a great idea. She went to the other room to make phonecalls to arrange a driver for the girls. During that time, I went into my cabin again and start looking at my phone. I never realized that Yujin was doing the same in the recording are. my eyes caught Yujin sitting in the recording area of the booth. She smiled and wawed at me. This was an interaction I was not expecting. I studied Korean in my University years and I was familiar with the language. Although has been a long time since I used it. I said, fuck it! When are you going to get the chance to talk to Yujin again? I got out of my section of the booth and get right inside to the recording area. She was wearing white knee socks, a crop tank top and jean shorts. And let me tell you, her shorts was literally short. I tried not to look at her legs and belly button so that I would not look like a creep in our first interaction.

I said hi with my broken Korean. She greeted me with a kind gesture. You know the little bowing they do when they greet somebody. I did the same. She asked me if I know Korean, or If i just know the basics like greeting and asking names. I said that I think that we can communicate in Korean. She said that not many Americans know Korean. “They barely know English don’t worry.” She laughed at my joke very loudly. I insulted my own people to make Yujin laugh. Totally worth it tho. We surprizingly started chatting about things about life and work. Then, their manager get inside the booth. And opened Google translate in order to tell Yujin something. She looked at me with a smiling face. It was a reference to the thing I said about Americans. I already fell into her humour. “I can translate.” I said to her agent. She relieved. “Tell her that we’re stuck here for a moment because I did not find any cars to drive them to the hotel.” I translated this to Yujin. She asked me to ask about the girls. “What about the other girls?” I asked. “They’re visiting the area with some guards. We can arrange a host for her if she wants to do so too.” I translated this too. Yujin replied “No, I will wait here. Thank you.” I was surprised. “She stays. Don’t worry she is in good hands.” I replied to the agent. She said whatever and went out. And she come back in “If the power does not fixed in a few hours we will go to the hotel somehow.” Again, I translated. She answered in English. “Okay.” The agent went out again.

Yujin continued in her cute english “She talks very much.” She giggled. I laughed. “You want a coffee?” She nodded. “Yes, please.” I went downstairs to get her a coffee in a flash. I grabbed a coffee want went upstairs very quickly. My friends were cheering for me. Of course there were cameras. I gave her the coffee and went into my recording booth, unplugged the camera and went back in. Our chat was too fun. We talked about music, industry, movies and many things. She is even a better person than you see and read in online. She is an angel. Literally.

My eyes were having a hard time trying not to look at her thighs and legs. But It was literally impossible. I tried to distract myself by saying that she is my bias in IVE. The moment I said this, her face blushed. I can see that she was embarassed. I tried to comfort her by saying “And you’re even prettier in real life.” I don’t think what I said helped her the slightest, but I wanted to say it anyways. But I can see that she was a little bit more comfortable about this whole situation when I said “I wanted to bring you my albums and wanted you to sign but..” She interrupted “What happened?” I answered, “I forgot them at home when I was trying to be here on time for you.” “Oh, that is so cute. I still sign them for you If you want.” I asked how can we do it. She answered. “Maybe I can come around with you and sign them for you. Is your house far away from here?”

That was an answer i did not expect. She just really wanted to come home with me? Should I do it? “It’s not very far away. A seven or eight minute drive and I’m home.” “Great!” she answered. As soon as we finish this recording, I will come with you and sign your albums she said. “We probably going to finish tomorrow. I bring them with me if you want.” She looked at me. “No, don’t carry them around with you. I can come with you.” I agreed. After a moment of silence, she took the last sip from her coffee and wanted a pen. I gave her mine. I always keep a pen in my pocket. She signed the paper cup and gave it to me. “Let’s start with this.” And then her agent came in. “Let’s go” she said, our car is here.

And she went with her agent. It was going so good that I did not wanted it to end. At least, I got a promise from her. She will come to my home and sign my albums and photocards. I did not mention this to anybody. And I went home. Later that night I got a text from the studio. The problem was fixed and the studio was ready for recording. At least we did half of the song. Only a few hours of work left to do.

As I was getting ready to go to bed, I got a notification. IT WAS FROM YUJIN. SHE MESSAGED ME. It was saying, “I got your instagram from our agent. She asked so many questions. LOL.” “Oh, Hi!” I texted back. And I wanted to be a little bit funny. “Do I know you, princess?” She sent me a sticker of a cat holding a heart. And texted “Can you send me pictures of your photocards?” I got up and took a little video of my binder for her, then sent it. She replied quickly. “Even from IZ*ONE?” “Yup.” I replied. “You deserve a lot of signs lol” She texted. And continued texting. “I need to sleep now but.. See you tomorrow.” She texted and sent that cat emoji again. I wished her good night. She liked my message. Then I went to sleep. Or at least I tried.

In the morning, if i completely be honest, I waited for a good morning message. I opened our chat and started typing things. But i did not sent anything. When I was doing so, she suddenly texted. “Morning. What were you typing?” I quickly had the control of the situation by saying; “I wanted to tell you good morning but i did not sure that you’re awake. And I did not want to wake you up.” The cat sticker. Again. “Your pen is with me right now. I forgot to give it back.” “You can keep it if you liked it” I replied. “Thank you, I will sign your albums with this. Haha.” She replied again. I said that I need to go to the studio. “See you at the recording.” I texted. She liked my message. But no cat sticker this time.

I arrived at the studio. The girls were already there. We quickly started the recording. It went pretty well. We finished even quicker than I expected. We wrapped up the recording and they left the studio. Except Yujin. When a K-Pop artist comes another country to record a special track, they had time to explore the country and buy some souvenirs. Yujin decided to spend her time with me. But her attitude was different from yesterday. She was like more.. intimitading. She approached me. This time she was wearing a skirt and a crop t-shirt. And a Nike shoe. That crop was a must. She loved to show her abs.

As we started to walk towards my car, she said that she needs a cover up before entering my car. She said someone might took her photos and start rumours. I gave her a cap and a long coat. We entered my car very quickly. And I drove her away from a safer zone. Along the way, she kept asking me personal questions. But the most important one was when she asked “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No” I answered. And I don’t know why i kept giving her my personal information but, i continued; “She cheated on me. So we broke up.” “What a bitch!” she answered. Then she quickly get emberassed because she swore. “Don’t worry” I said. You are still so cute when you are swearing. She laughed. “I wouldn’t cheat on you beacuse you’re a good person. And you’re handsome too.” She said. I was pretty shocked to hear this. I looked at her face. “Look at the road.” She turned my face towards to the road. “You will see my face enough today.” She continued. “It will never be enough tho.” I answered. “Sorry If i offended you by saying I wouldn’t cheat on you. I did not upsed you did I? “She asked. “Why would I be offended by that?” I asked. She kept her silence for a moment. And contiuned; “You always say I’m so cute, so beautiful, Aren’t I sexy and hot?” Okay. This was something different. She obviously trying to flirt with me. I was very close to get a one night stand with my bias. I was feeling confident.

We arrived my house. I opened her door and hold her hand while she got out from my car. She thanked me and we started walking to my house. I have a modest house. I am a successfull record producer. But also I try to live a humble life. She was fascinated by my house. I never understand if she was being polite or if she really liked it but, that was the situation.

After we entered the house, she said that if I have something fresh to drink. I offered her a beer or a coke. She took the beer. As he was drinking her beer, she got up and started to walk around my house. My record collection, my computer. She was taking a full interest in me. The she asked “Where are your albums and cards. I want to see them.” I gave her the bag. She started to sign them with my pen. And after some time she finished signing them. She put them onto my desk. And sit beside me. “Do you love me?” She asked. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Come on, you said I’m your bias. Didn’t you ever jerked off to my fancam?” Okay. It was happening. “I think about it.” I said. I got a boner sometimes. But I did not jerked off to you.” She took of her phone and checked to clock. It was 2 P.M. “I need to be in the Hotel by 4 P.M.” She said. “We have two hours.” Two hours for what I asked. She didn’t even replied and just kissed me on the cheek. I hold her neck and started kissing her lips. She started to took my clothes off. I did the same. She was left with her socks and her bra. I was only with my pants and my socks. She took of my pants and sit on my leg. We were kissing very passionately. Our lips were sealed to each other and our tongues were dancing in each others mouth. I took off her panties. And I carried her to my bedroom. Throw her to the bed and get on top of her. I started to kiss her every inch. Her nose, her lips and her neck. I started to go down slowly. I squeezed her tits. My cock was rock hard. But kissing her soft lips and her soft boobs was feeling like heaven. But I needed to go down on her and eat her pussy. When I started to eat her pussy, her body was shaking with my every touch. She was getting goosebumps everytime i lick her clit. It was so wet and so soft. I started fingering her pussy. After a while, I gave her an orgasm. Her juice was all over my hand. I licked my hand and I turned her back and started licking her asshole. “Don’t, It’s so gross.” She said while moaning. I answered “No, I want this.” As she was moaning and saying things in Korean, I stopped licking her asshole. Gave her ass a good spank and turned her back to me. “I want to suck your cock.” She looked at me with her cute eyes. I lay down on my bed, she get up and started to suck my cock. Yujin was sucking my cock.

She was so good. As she sucked my cock, I felt like she was sucking my soul off from my body. “Are you coming?” She asked me. “Yes, a little bit more, then I will be coming.” She stopped and said; “Do you want to cum on my boobs or on my back?” “I want to cum on your belly button.” I said. “You do that.” I was about to cum, I said to her that I was about to cum. I hold my wet cock. And started jerking it off to Yujin’s belly. My ropes of cum were on her belly. She rub her belly with her finger and eat my cum. “You should have just cum into my mouth” She said. “We still have time” I said.

She asked me for a condom. I always carry one in my wallet. I took of my wallet and take the condom inside. She hand gestures me saying give me the condom. She took the condom into his hands. Her red nail polish looked so sexy while she is holding my cock. She put the condom on, and turn her back to me. She was bent over in front of me. I got closer to her pussy and kissed it. Then i put my cock into her pussy. She was moaning like hell. But I wasn’t gentle with her. I put the tip in, waited a second that put it all the way in. Very hard. I was hammering her. Holding her waist. I was holding her waist so hard that it was starting to go red. I let go of her waist and started to spank her ass. Left, right, left, right. With each spank, she was moaning a little more. I realized that I was about to cum, so I changed the position. Since she is very tiny, I was able to turn her face to me. I put her legs to my shoulder and took of her socks. Her little feet was on my face. I was kissing her feet wile i pound her pussy. She was screaming in English at this point. Then I put her legs down and get a little bit closer to her face. I was kissing her face as I was fucking her pussy. She was also scraching my back like crazy. As I pound her, she started to scrach a little bit more. At some point, I can feel that my back was bleeding.

She came for a second time. This time it was all over my cock and my legs. I continued to pound her pussy. I was about to cum. I took off the condom in a hurry, get closer to her face and cum on her face. She licked the cum near her lips. I gave her a napkin. She cleaned her face. Her face was so pink. I can tell that I fucked her really good. She hugged me. That hug was better than the sex. She looked at the time. “We have 20 minutes.” she said. “Where is your pen? I need your pen.” She continued. I got up and brought her the pen. She signed my left chest. And kissed it. “I was thinking about singing your forehead but you need to drive me to the hotel.” She said. I laughed. “Now I have two reasons not to take a bath” I said. “What was the first?” she asked. “Your smell is all over me. I never want it to disappear.” I answered. She hugged me again. “Will you help me dress up?” “Of course.” I answered. I helped her wear her clothes. She did not wear her bra and her socks. “You can keep those. In case you miss my smell.” She said. Then I asked “Will I Ever see you again?” She hugged me again and said; “I don’t think so. But If you see me again, you can be sure that we’re going to do this again.” I was devastated to hear that but, what else was going to happen? “I will text you tho.” She continued. “Now, let’s go. I’m going to be late.” I get dressed up and carried her to the car. As we were getting closer to the hotel, a sadness was taking over my body. Her little hand was on my thigh. It was a feeling that cannot be described with words.

Then we arrived at her hotel. She took off the pen one last time, put on her cap and coat and signed my forehead. Gave me a kiss on the lips. “Goodbye.” She said. “Goodbye.” I replied. As she got into the hotel and disappeared from my sight, I was just standing here. Frozen. Trying to process what happened in the last few hours. I smelled my right hand. It was still smelling like her.

And I drove off to my home.

THE END.

#ahn yujin #yujin ive #ive yujin #yujin #kpop smut #idol x male reader #yujin x male reader #ahn yujin x male reader

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apoemaday · 7 months

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Marriage

by Louise Glück

All week they’ve been by the sea again and the sound of the sea colors everything. Blue sky fills the window. But the only sound is the sound of the waves pounding the shore — angry. Angry at something. Whatever it is must be why he’s turned away. Angry, though he’d never hit her, never say a word, probably. So it’s up to her to get the answer some other way, from the sea, maybe, or the gray clouds suddenly rising above it. The smell of the sea is in the sheets, the smell of sun and wind, the hotel smell, fresh and sweet because they’re changed every day. He never uses words. Words, for him, are for making arrangements, for doing business. Never for anger, never for tenderness. She strokes his back. She puts her face up against it, even though it’s like putting your face against a wall. And the silence between them is ancient: it says these are the boundaries. He isn’t sleeping, not even pretending to sleep. His breathing’s not regular: he breathes in with reluctance; he doesn’t want to commit himself to being alive. And he breathes out fast, like a king banishing a servant. Beneath the silence, the sound of the sea, the sea’s violence spreading everywhere, not finished, not finished, his breath driving the waves — But she knows who she is and she knows what she wants. As long as that’s true, something so natural can’t hurt her.

#poetry #louise glück #marriage

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

Everything Goes Wrong

Description: A few bouts of bad luck aren’t all that bad.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: none. this is straight fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

The case had been a hard one, especially in the dead of winter in North Dakota. Not only had we been working tirelessly for a week and a half, but the cold had pretty much knocked me on my ass. I was sure I could say the same for the rest of the team, too. We were groggy and exhausted by the end of it.

Not to mention, we were all a little irritable with the fact that the hotel had screwed up our sleeping arrangements, leaving many of us pairing up in rooms that didn’t exactly accommodate two people.

I didn’t exactly pull the short end of the stick, getting paired up with Hotch this time around, but we definitely all were over having roommates. I needed alone time desperately a few times over the course of the time we spent, and never got it. I couldn’t have been the best person to room with considering how snappy I could get.

Then, right as we thought we were going home, plans changed again.

“You’re kidding,” Derek said as we stepped out of the local precinct.

We looked around at the snow pouring out of the sky. We could hardly see a few feet ahead of us.

“How are we supposed to get home in this?” Emily asked, groaning. “I hate the winter.”

Hotch let out a harsh breath. “Let’s try to get back the hotel, at least. I’ll call and see if we can take off, but don’t pack up yet.”

We were a chorus of annoyance as we trudged to the SUVs. It was a hard drive back, and I was more than thankful I wasn’t the one trying to drive in this. Our five minute drive to the hotel took thirty. The roads were a mess, and visibility only got worse as the minutes ticked by. It was a miracle we made it back at all.

Though, as expected, halfway through the ride Hotch got word that we would be staying the night again. Nobody took that news real well.

I sighed as I stretched out on the mattress almost an hour later. It felt more than good to finally rest after a full day on my feet. I couldn’t wait until it was my turn in the shower. I could practically feel the hot water soothing my sore muscles already.

Suddenly, silence fell over the room. It was already quiet, save for the sound of running water, but now… Something was off. Literally turned off.

I stood up, walking towards the heater with hopes that this wasn’t what was wrong. I should have known better. As my hand reached out to feel the warm air rushing out, there was nothing. I sighed heavily, retreating back to the bed to take a seat once more.

It was several minutes until Hotch was walking out of the bathroom, a towel around his shoulders, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. At least he looked comfortable before I had to deliver the news.

He took one look at me and knew something had happened.

“What is it?” he asked, voice exasperated.

I gave half a smile, nodding towards the heater in the room.

“I think we might be sleeping without heat.”

He furrowed his brow, doing the same thing I’d just done. He groaned quietly when he, too, felt no warm air against his hand. He mumbled something about calling the front desk, but judging by his facial expressions alone, there wasn’t much they could do about it at the moment.

He hung up the phone, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. First we don’t have enough rooms and you have to get stuck with me, and now this. This is ridiculous,” he huffed a sigh, looking around the room.

“It’s alright. You didn’t choose this place, and you certainly didn’t make, well,” I paused, gesturing around vaguely, “all of this happen.”

He shrugged, reaching up to rustle his wet hair with the towel around his shoulders as he stepped past me. I stood for a moment, just watching as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Then, I decided now was as good a time as ever for a hot shower, in hopes that the water would still be warm.

It was.

I got out of the bathroom almost an hour later to find Hotch already asleep in bed. For him to immediately hit the hay proved that we’d worked too hard on the case. I snuck into bed next to him after shutting out the remaining lights, curling into the comforter for some warmth. The cold seeping into the room from the broken heater was getting a little bit noticeable, but luckily for me, he definitely ran hot. I realized it the second the warmth under the blankets hit me. I effectively passed out within a few minutes.

The next morning was especially warm as I woke before my alarm went off. The heater must’ve kicked back on sometime in the night. I went to stretch, but found it much more difficult to do than I had anticipated.

I looked down to see Hotch curled up against me, and my eyes immediately widened. I swallowed a lump in my throat that formed quickly. I certainly hadn’t been expecting to see him like this, with a strong arm holding me to him. It was… attractive?

It would be a lie to say I’d never noticed him before. Who couldn’t? Even if he somehow didn’t catch an eye the second he walked into a room, he just had an aura around him. Some kind of presence that could pull a person in before they knew what was happening.

But, now, in the same bed with his arm draped over my stomach and his breath against my neck… This was a whole new feeling.

It was butterflies and warm cheeks and— something that I probably shouldn’t feel while next to my boss. But, then again, he definitely shouldn’t be cuddling with a subordinate. We were both a little guilty.

He shifted in his sleep, his arm around me moving a bit until his fingers were just under the hem of my shirt. Cuddling was one thing, but if I felt his hand on much more of my stomach, I felt I might combust.

“Hotch,” I whispered.

He didn’t budge.

“Hotch,” I said, a little louder this time. “Hey.”

He shifted again, this time squeezing his eyes together a little harder.

“Time to wake up,” I said, my hand on his arm.

His eyes slowly opened, though they suddenly snapped open when he realized where he was. He pushed himself off of me, quickly glancing over me to confirm he really was doing what he thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he rushed out.

“It’s alright. It was cold last night,” I said quickly, trying to soothe the nerves that were obviously eating at him. “At least it warmed up this morning.”

He shook his head as he stood from the bed, running a hand through his hair quickly. I swallowed, knowing he felt like he crossed a line.

“I really don’t mind,” I tried again.

“We should be downstairs soon,” he replied, glossing over my attempts. “I’ll be out soon.”

He walked into the bathroom without much of a glance in my direction. I huffed out a breath, quickly getting dressed before I heard the water in the sink stop. He opened the door right as I sat on the edge of the mattress again, hardly catching my eye as he did.

“Hotch,” I called, determined to get his attention.

He hummed in response, immediately ruffling through his bag as if there was something he was actually looking for. I stood, taking a few steps in his direction.

“Can you at least listen to me?”

I watched as his shoulders dropped with the breath he let out. He straightened, turning to face me.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, not meeting my eyes again.

“I’ve already told you it’s fine. You really need to take my word for it.”

“I was practically on top of you,” he said, looking at me at last.

Unfortunately, he finally looked right as my cheeks were heating up a tad. I didn’t expect that innocent of a phrase to have any effect on me, but apparently my brain had other ideas.

“You didn’t mean to. It was freezing last night, and we were kind of forced to share a bed.”

He was quiet again.

I continued, “Besides, when have I been the type to hide my emotions that well? If I was upset you would’ve known immediately. Honestly, you were keeping me warm.”

He cracked a small smile, though he tried to hide it.

“I promise I was okay with it. Really.”

He nodded. “Alright. Just— Don’t report me to HR.”

I laughed. “Deal.”

Half an hour later, the team was waiting in the lobby of the hotel for news on our travel arrangements. Hotch and Morgan had gone off to figure it all out, leaving the rest of us to sip on coffee and watch the blizzard outside.

“Well, technically, the blizzard ended 4 hours ago. Now, it’s really just a heavy snow,” Reid stated, hardly glancing away from the magazine in his hands.

Prentiss rolled her eyes, looking towards me for some kind of understanding. I smiled at her, sipping at my coffee. We heard voices soon thereafter coming towards our small group. Hotch and Morgan walked up, chatting quietly.

“We should be able to take off within the next few hours,” Hotch stated, glancing around at us. “I’ll be getting a call when they’re ready. Until then, let’s get lunch and make sure we’re packed up and ready to go.”

“Eating on the company dollar?” I asked with a smirk.

He looked at me, a small smile on his face and… a bit of a blush on his cheeks?

“Yes. So, make sure you all decide on someplace good.”

Now, when I looked back at Prentiss, she was the one with a smile on her face. One that wasn’t sympathetic in the slightest. I knew what was happening in that head of hers from the twinkle in her eye alone.

I started walking towards the elevator, knowing she’d follow me, but still hopeful that maybe she’d leave it be. My former assumption was correct.

She caught up just as the doors started shutting, crossing her arms as she stood next to me.

“So,” she started.

“So?”

“What was that?”

I sighed. “What was what?”

She quirked a brow when I looked at her. I shook my head, looking away again.

“You know what. I’ve got to say, I never expected to see Hotch blushing. What did you do to him?”

I chuckled. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh? Who did?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I asked, stepped forward as the doors of the elevator opened on our floor.

I hoped that line would shut her up for the time being, but that was once again wishful thinking. She practically chased me down the hall.

“You’re not getting away that easy.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. “Nothing actually happened.”

“He was smiling. And blushing.”

“You ever think it’s just because I’m charming?”

“No.”

I made a sour face, finally reaching my door. She raised a brow, giving me a proud smirk.

“I’ll find out, you know?”

“You’re sure about that?”

She shrugged. “Pretty sure.”

“Sure about what?” Hotch asked, walking up on us.

I looked away quickly, hoping to catch Emily’s eye before she said something she shouldn’t. Luckily for me, she got some sense in her head at the last second.

“Nothing. Just can’t pass up an opportunity to tease her.”

He raised a brow. “Right. Well, pack up. Sooner we’re done here, the sooner we can eat.”

She nodded once, sending me a quick wink before she turned and walked towards her own door. I finally unlocked the door, walking inside with Hotch hot on my heels. We silently packed the rest of our things, though neither of us had really unpacked all that much to begin with. He finished first, standing near the door to wait for me rather than leaving for the lobby. I glanced over my shoulder as I put my toiletries bag in the suitcase.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Just about.”

He hummed. “Prentiss was bothering you, huh?”

“When isn’t she?”

“What about?”

I shrugged. “I don’t even really know.”

He chuckled as I turned around. “You’re not a great liar.”

Maybe I liked him better when he was being shy about being all over me. He seemed a little too self confident now.

“Says you,” I replied with raised brows.

We made it to lunch in one piece, deciding that even though the roads were mostly cleared now, we’d stick close by.

Prentiss nudged me a few times during lunch, trying to get information out of me, but I refused. Though, it certainly didn’t help that I found myself looking at Hotch much more often than I usually would.

Maybe I’d had a small crush on him before, but now my brain wouldn’t stop reminding me of it. Every time he laughed or talked or moved or breathed. He was stuck in my head. It was ridiculous.

Embarrassment really came when I looked at him again only to find him looking at me. He quirked a brow as my eyes widened a bit at being caught.

Emily definitely caught that interaction.

I shook my head at her as she teased me, definitely noticing the self-satisfied smirk Hotch tried to hide at the interaction. He knew. Bastard.

We started the leave the restaurant when we got the okay from our pilot, but I didn’t get far before I felt a hand on my arm keeping me behind the others. I turned.

“I’d like to see you in my office when we get back,” he said with a quirked brow.

“What about?”

“We’re not sharing a room anymore, I need somewhere where I can speak to you in private.”

“You going to try to cuddle me again if I agree to be alone with you?”

“Not yet,” he replied, a smile barely there on his face. “Maybe next time. We’ll have to see how that talk goes when we’re home.”

I nodded, hiding a smile of my own. “Deal.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner fluff #gender neutral reader #luna's hotch fics

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acotarxreader · 5 months

Text

⭐Other Worlds⭐Papertrail ⭐Pancake ⭐Healing Hands ⭐The Stray and The Snakes

Oneshot:

Stress Relief⭐👀🔥

Synopsis: Working for the Night Court has become near impossible with Azriel determined to drive you out the door but can a camping trip arranged by Rhys smooth things over.

Papertrail ⭐🥰

Synopsis: For months Azriel had gotten to know you through the intelligence letters you penned from the Autumn Court but finally meeting reveals your twisted reality.

BatBite ⭐

Synopsis: Azriel relies on liquid courage to finally act on his feelings for you but the next day, only one of you remembers and its the one marked with lovebites

Pancake ⭐🥰

Synopsis: Celebrating Feyre's 21st with a large party at the House of Wind proves to be quite triggering for you as you battle with the demons that followed you out of Under the Mountain.

High Lord of Game 👀

Synopsis: Cassian and Azriel use a simple competition to decide who deserves the title of High Lord of Game, but at what cost to you?

Lessons in Herbology ⭐🔥👀

Synopsis: You and Azriel are frequently at odds with one another but when Azriel accidently destroys your life's work, the illyrian will do anything to make it up to you.

Storm Chaser 👀 🥰

Synopsis: You and Azriel go your separate ways after a vicious fight leaves Azriels jealousy calling the shots but can the ever brave Illyrian brave a storm without you

Jilted👀

Synopsis: The morning of your wedding your fears are enforced by an old way of thought, sending you running and Azriel to cope with the aftermath but will a reunion set you both back on the path you should both be living?

The Silent Treatment⭐👀

Synopsis: Your past affair sends Azriel into brooding, with Elain being led to believe that the end of the relationship she hated so much had finally happened.

Songbird🥰

Synopsis: Azriel takes to the stage, slightly more than drunk and definitely slightly more than ready to tell the world how he feels about you.

Little Drop Of Starlight 🥰

Synopsis: A story of Azriel and you raising your daughter through the years, Azriels little drop of starlight.

Healing Hands 👀🥰⭐

Synopsis: A new suitor in your life interrupts your friendship with your three best friends at Windhaven. The budding healer in you finds yourself breaking more hearts than healing.

Honey👀🥰

Synopsis: Azriel frequents the hotel in Hewn City that you manage with his many lovers, a source of your constant teasing until Azriel can't replace the way he feels about you with anyone else.

Storybook👀🥰

Synopsis: Azriel's insecurities of not being good enough for the glowing Dawn emissary that had enveloped his world can't be silenced and erupt at Cassian's birthday party. But can he find his way again into the storybook life he believes you deserve?

Tease

Synopsis: Friends with benefits is quickly running its course between you and Azriel with Mor's birthday party being the perfect setting to see which of you will cave first.

Flower

Synopsis: You and Azriel are sent deep into the mountains in search of a flower that may save Feyre's life during childbirth but quickly the frenemy status is put to the test as past trials come to a head leaving you to decide between your new sister and the potential love of your life.

Series:

Shadow and Flame 🔥💥👀🥰 ✅

Synopsis: Azriel is growing tired of feeling wronged by the Mother for not allowing Elain to be his mate until he meets a true stranger for the first time, you. Through a series of unfortunate events and ties to Lucien and Autumn, will the Mother keep the winds of fate blowing against Azriel?

Say My Name 👀💥and Part 2 👀💥🔥 ✅

After being separated from his brothers by the High Lord of Night, Azriel becomes accustomed to the new chain of command in his life, led

by you. But with the Mortal Realm war beginning to rage, will your relationship move beyond professional

Other Worlds ⭐🥰and Part 2⭐🥰👀 ✅

Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Timing👀 Part Two 🔥💥👀🥰 ✅

Synopsis: Timing works against you and Azriel as a series of unfortunate events lands the two of you alone for the night with a broken down car and a breaking down friendship

Mirror 👀💥Part Two👀💥🥰✅

Synopsis: You were gifted with the ability to mirror other fae's magic with a simple touch and your free spirit nature leads you to cross very close to the borders of a hidden city, where your future best friends and soulmate snatch you out of the sky to protect their border.

Silence in the Shadows 🔥💥👀🥰and Part Two 💥👀

Synopsis: Hewn City has been hit by a fresh crime wave, stumping the inner circle as they search for a solution. Azriel meets you in a crowded bar while trying to escape the stresses that the City was supplying him. But after a spur of the moment night together, Azriel is left wondering if the girl he spent the night with is truly all what she seems?

Moonlight Swim 🥰

Synopsis: Cassian has his heartbroken at the end of Illyrian training party he attended. Lovelorn and in need of a miracle, you cross his path to set his night on a course of centuries-long pining.

The Stray and The Snakes 🥰👀⭐

Synopsis: You're adjustment to the Night Court after meeting your Mate is made all the more difficult due to the unwelcoming nature of two particular sisters.

The Art of You 🥰

Synopsis: Cassian found recovery in the art that he created while preparing to apply to art school in New York, his greatest muse being his high-flying down-to-earth socialite girlfriend, you.

To the Library

Welcome to my lil library of fics I have enjoyed recently (and the gifs that summarise them way too simplistically)! This will be updated as I go 🩷

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syluscore · 1 year

Text

Runaway Bride

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count: 3165

Content warnings: arranged marriage, readers parents are mean, gender roles, patriarchy standards, arguments, super feminine wedding gown the whole 9 yards wedding stuff there, panic attack, kissing, leon driving (shits scary okay)

!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!!!

“Are you sure this is what you want? I genuinely just want you to be happy,” Leon said, eyes full of concern.

“I want to make my parents happy. He is a good guy and I think I could be happy with him,” you replied. It’s hard to believe your wedding day is tomorrow. You spent so many years disobeying your parents and doing everything in your power to drive them crazy. They want you to marry Todd so much; it’s practically all they’ve talked about for the past two years. Four months ago you finally accepted his proposal and now–now it’s almost midnight and you’re still up talking with your best friend, Leon.

“I don’t think you should marry someone just because it’ll make your parents happy. Do you love him? I think the only reason you should ever get married is because you love someone.” Leon has repeatedly said these same things since you told him about Todd. How does he not understand that backing out on your marriage to Todd would be the nail in the coffin on your relationship with your parents.

“You know the answer to that, Leon. I wish it were that simple. I wish I did love him, but I can work on that. I could love him. I need to make my parents happy. I don’t have a choice here, okay? I have to do this,” you said more angrily than you should have, but once Leon let out a chuckle and was shaking his head, you decided you weren’t nearly angry enough with him.

“You don’t have to do anything, Y/N. If your parents don’t want you to get married for the right reasons, then maybe you should stop trying so hard with them. Don’t you see that you don’t need them? You don’t need to marry him, you don’t need to do anything!” Leon exclaimed out his last ditch effort to get you to come to your senses. It’s not that you don’t know these things to be true, but your feelings are, well, they’re complicated.

“Maybe you should just go,” you say getting up from the couch you two were sitting on. How can he not see how difficult this is for you? How can he not just respect your decision? You turn to walk away, but Leon darts up and grabs your wrist stopping you.

“I can see it in your eyes, Y/N. You don’t want to marry him. Anytime you talk about him or anyone mentions him your eyes stay blank. I’ve seen you more happy to talk about a fucking pizza, Y/N,” before Leon can continue you interrupt him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you knew everything. I should’ve realized you know me better than I know myself right?”

“Maybe I do. If you believe this is actually what you want, then you are delusional. Your feelings show so strongly on your face and they always have. You don’t need me to tell you. You know how you feel, all you need to do is be honest with yourself,” Leon said, staring right into your eyes. The rage slowly crept up from the bottom of your spine, up into your shoulders, until all you could feel was anger.

“Just get the fuck out Leon,” you yelled at him but he just continued to stare at you. “Go!” you yelled louder than before and he just shook his head as he began to walk away.

“I won’t be attending your bullshit wedding, but I will be outside in the car. If you come to your senses before you make such a grave mistake, I’ll be waiting,” he turned to you once more.

You stomped to the door, opening it and pushing him out into the hallway of the hotel, before slamming the door behind him. You were shaking with anger as you stormed back to the couch. Your body vibrated with anger; it encompassed your whole being, you felt it deep in your soul.

Before you could stop them, the tears started rushing down your cheeks. Then something in you just fucking broke, shattered completely if you’re being honest, and the uncontrollable sobbing started. Everything is so hard all of the fucking time, why does he have to make things so much harder?

You look into the floor length mirror, staring at yourself in your wedding gown. You’ve never felt so emotionally drained before in your life. You hate this venue, you hate your dress, your veil, your makeup, your hair, your bouquet. Nothing is how you dreamed it would be. You picked everything your mother liked. It’s not like your father would pay for anything she didn’t like anyway. Maybe you hate your parents too. No, what are you saying? They’re your parents, you love them because they’re your parents.

You can’t stop itching your neck. You feel like you’re choking with this high neckline. You can feel the tulle of your dress all over your skin and you hate it. It feels like you can’t move in this stupid princess ball gown. How are you even going to fit out the door? You pull the blusher of your veil, which makes the veil so much worse, over your face. Do you even exist underneath all of this fabric? Have you ceased to be beneath it all?

You hear a knock on the door and you roll your eyes. All you want to do is be alone right now. Well, maybe not alone, but you know whoever is at that door isn’t the person you want it to be. What if it is though? Maybe those dirty blonde locks and pretty blue eyes will come through the door and make everything better. He’ll reassure you that everything is fine and that you got this. “Come in,” you say barely loud enough for the person on the other side to hear. You hold your breath hoping for him, yearning for him.

Your heart sinks when your mom comes rushing in. “Honey, you look perfect! Straight out of a fairytale. Such a princess!” your mom beams at you.

“Thank you mom,” you say looking back into the mirror.

“Isn’t it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” she says as she pulls your blusher back behind your head so she can get a good look at the work done to your face and hair. You try to force out a smile at her, but it feels impossible so you just slightly nod your head. Your mom’s face goes cold at your reaction. She grabs your cheeks and stares directly into your eyes. “Cheer up, Y/N. Don’t fuck it up,” she spat.

“I’m not gonna fuck it up, mom. I’m just nervous, that’s all,” you lie through your teeth. Nothing is fine and you’re going to completely fuck this up.

“It’s just a wedding dear. You go out there, put on a nice show for everyone and then you go home. That’s when the hard part actually starts, so get it together,” she said and released your cheeks from her grasp.

“Wait, what do you mean? About the hard part?” you asked confused.

“Marriage isn’t a walk in the park–but your father and I expect you to do a good job. Be a nice, polite wife. Be quiet and take care of your husband. Keep sweet and life will be easy. Todd will tell us if you cause any trouble for him, but you won’t. We trained you better than that,”

“Trained? Like a dog?” you asked, causing your mom to snicker.

“Well yeah. We taught you good manners and good homemaking skills. Like good wife training or however you’d like to refer to it,” she said waving you off.

“You raising me?” you asked, almost horrified.

“Yeah,” she said as she started to walk out of the room. “Your father will be here in about 10 minutes to walk you down the aisle. Be ready,” she closed the door and you had to physically stop yourself from running out of the room. Although, you’re not sure why you’re stopping yourself. How bad could it be to marry someone 10 years your senior, who expects you to take care of him and however many children he wants you to have and whatever wifely duties he deems necessary.

It could be really fucking bad. Terrible. Completely miserable. But if you can’t marry the person you actually love, then marrying into wealth while making your parents happy is the next best thing. Right? You look at yourself in the mirror again. How many people have to convince themselves to go through with their wedding on their wedding day? Surely it’s not just you.

You felt suffocated within these four walls of your bridal suite. Your heart rate was steadily increasing, sweat breaking out across your forehead. No, not a panic attack. Not right now. Focus on your breathing, 1 2 3 in, hold 1 2 3, and out. Nope, this is not at all helping. Where’s Leon when you so desperately need him? You can’t even fathom a point in your life when you could possibly need him more and he’s just not fucking here. How could he let you do this by yourself? He’s your best friend!

And there’s the deflecting. This is where your mother really shines through you. You always promised yourself you wouldn’t blindly deflect blame onto others for your own problems, your own mistakes. Yes, you understand that growth is being able to acknowledge this thought process and correct yourself, but why does your first instinct always have to be projecting onto someone else? Right, your mother has continuously done that since the day you were born. You guess it’s not hard to see where it came from when you’re not too busy deflecting.

Stop fucking deflecting! Maybe you could try allowing your body to go into autopilot. Put on your big girl game face and say your “I do’s” and become Todd’s trophy wife and do his bidding and completely lose your sense of self. You can’t do this. How are you supposed to do this? The only man who you could ever love isn’t here to help you, how can you ever get through this? You need the man you love here to help you get married to the man you don’t.

And then suddenly the panic stops and all of your jumbled up, foggy thoughts clear. The man you love. The man you would do literally anything for–the man you would give up your own life for any day of the week. You’ve spent years convincing yourself that your future wasn’t yours to decide, how could you ever hold it in your hands when your parents kept such a firm grip on it? Why fight for someone’s love who will never deem you worthy enough of it regardless of what you do?

Love should be freely given, given unconditionally with no strings attached. Love shouldn’t be held over someone’s head, to force them into obedience. But here you are, a grown ass woman still vying for it from people who would rather die than give it to you for free. The people who could put a price tag over anything, including a human emotion. Maybe you are delusional and have no idea what love actually is. You’d never given an absolute love and you weren’t sure that you had ever received it in your entire life.

Except you have, and you love him as absolutely as he loves you.

Fuck it. You bunch up your puffy dress and pull the tulle underskirt out from underneath it, immediately feeling a hundred pounds lighter. You unstrapped your high heels, pulling them off and throwing them to the side. Dropping your dress back down, you stare at yourself in the mirror again. Are you really going to do this? Whichever choice you make, there’ll be no going back. So what do you choose, your happiness or the approval of those whose approval isn’t really worth much regardless?

Well, isn’t it obvious?

You cracked open the door to your bridal suite, looking out into the hallway. One way led down to the grand hall where the ceremony would be taking place, the other way leading to a side door that’ll take you out to nearly the front of the building. You could hear the muffled music coming from the grand hall as everyone prepared for the ceremony. Not a soul was to be found in the hallway. It really is now or never.

With one finally deep breath, you were bunching up the front of your skirt to your knees so as to not trip over it. And then you were off, running for the side door as fast as your feet would carry you. Your fast heart rate was debilitating back in your suite, but now as you ran for the door that would lead you out into the hot, summer sun, the feeling of your heart racing in your chest was exhilarating. Fuck this wedding and fuck this dress. The second you’re able to, you’ll be ripping it off and tossing it to the wind.

You went crashing through the side door and your bare feet hit the hot pavement. You quickly glanced around in every direction. You didn’t see anyone out here, which was a relief, but was also worrisome because that also meant you didn’t see a certain someone as well.

Another deep breath and your bare feet were booking it through the grass, running directly for the road ahead. You came to a halt right before coming into contact with the pavement of the street looking all around for that car you’d ridden all around this town in. Your eyes wildly searched every piece of the street, eyeing every single car in the vicinity. Your hope started to dwindle when your eyes never landed on that shitty, little jeep.

Your heart sank as the possibility of Leon not bothering to show up at all sank in. And you couldn’t blame him, after the way you’d treated him last night, he truly owed you nothing. Maybe he decided you didn’t deserve an out after living mindlessly in a bubble for so long. Why would he want to sit outside and wait, wondering if you were really going to go through with this? Leaving him in the dust of what could’ve been. If you were in his position, you’re not sure you could’ve endured the pain of it either. But you’d always been a coward. And it seems being a coward could potentially have fucked up your entire life.

“No fucking way,” you were pulled from your thoughts as Leon stepped out of an alleyway just down the road. His voice was filled with shock, and it perfectly matched the look on his face. Your heart felt like it could burst from happiness at the sight of him standing on the tree lined sidewalk before you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding left your lips, leaving you beaming a huge smile at the man at the end of the sidewalk.

Once again, you bunched up the front of your dress and somehow managed to run faster than you had to get to this point toward him. A smile rose on his face, rising all the way up to his eyes as he watched you run for him. You reached up into your hair and pulled your veil off, letting it blow behind you in the wind. His arms opened up wide, ready to embrace you as you got closer and closer to him. No matter how small the distance between the two of you became, it was never enough. It wouldn’t be enough until you were engulfed in him.

And then you collided with him. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you off your feet as he began to spin you around in a circle. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you raised your feet up further, pulling them into you as close as you could with the dress you were wearing. You two were staring into each other's eyes as giggles fell from both of your lips. You could see the sparkle in Leon’s eyes as he beamed at you. He was practically glowing, radiating happiness and relief.

He looked so kissable like this. So, you kissed him. You closed the measly few inches separating your lips. Your eyes flew shut and Leon’s soon followed. After so many years, never having kissed him, the feel of his lips sent shock waves through your entire body. Fuck, if you had kissed him sooner, you would’ve long been Mrs. Kennedy and never would’ve found yourself in such an unnecessary situation.

His lips parted from yours as he stared up at you. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” Leon said, causing you to have to fight the blush threatening to break through your cheeks.

“I think I was always supposed to be your bride. Should’ve been a long ass time ago,” you spoke to him softly. You aren’t sure how he managed to pull you closer, but he did as he pressed his lips to yours again. His kiss was so much more intense this time and you found yourself getting lost in the feeling of him. You know you couldn’t possibly deserve it, but you still hoped you could spend the rest of your life feeling just like this.

“Y/N? Where the fuck are you?” you heard your mothers voice in the distance, pulling you from your thoughts of Leon. He broke the kiss and set you back down on your feet.

“Well, sweetheart, I think it’s time to bail,” he said, grabbing your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “I think it was time to bail a long time ago, but now's as good a time as any.” And then you were both running together, him leading you down the alley to his beat up jeep. He quickly brought you to the passenger side, opening the door and helping you climb in. He had to stuff the big skirt of your dress in over you, but he somehow managed to get it all in before slamming the door.

He ran around the backside of the car before throwing himself into the driver's seat and starting up the engine. He switched the gear shift into drive before turning and looking at you, “You ready?”

With both of your hands, you reached out and brought his mouth back to yours in a scorching kiss. Without needing to say anything, this moment between the two of you said everything. You smiled up at him as your lips separated once again, “Get us the fuck out of here, loverboy!”

And then he was flooring it down the alleyway, away from the wedding venue, heading towards forever you hoped.

~masterlist~

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