#I need to name this AU so I can tag it lol
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In the AU that lives in my brain (and fanfics) the Hero of Twilight isn’t permitted to fight as a Hylian in the Hero of the Wild’s era, only as a wolf—at least during BOTW. Though he does travel as a Hylian sometimes and interact with Wild, but he says his name is Rusl to not reveal his true identity.
As a result of being unable to fight, “Rusl” has a reputation of running from monsters. Kinda strange how a wolf tends to show up and attack them after he leaves…
After the events of TOTK the Light Spirits (who sent him to this era in the first place) allow him to return to Wild’s era again, but this time decide that he can fight in either form… which means that “Rusl’s” cowardly reputation from years before during BOTW kinda gets destroyed.
#tp link#zelda#hero of twilight#twilight princess#BOTW#TOTK#ordonpumpkin art#I need to name this AU so I can tag it lol#loz#link
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[I.D. Digital art of Donnie from ROTTMNT and an oc. Donnie and an anthropomorphic fennec fox are sitting at a table typing on their respective laptops. Donnie's has an angular D symbol on the back, while the fox's has three pairs of eyes stacked on each other. Donnie is not wearing a battleshell, and his goggles have wavy lines running up and down them. He glances over at the fox and asks "Can I use you for dubiously ethical science experiments?" She smiles, her ears pricked upward, and says "Depends, what type of experiment?" She is wearing a tanktop and has earbuds that connect to her laptop. End I.D.]
made this like two months ago, put it in a draft, and forgot about it lol
Anyway, the fox girl is kinda maybe my version of Alopex, that said I know nothing about Alopex and I might not give her that name. In My Circus My Turtles, she's sort of Donnie's friend/science partner. They do experiments and build stuff together, but maybe don't hang out much outside of that? I'm still working it out tbh. Also she's blind. So far I'm thinking she does more of the software stuff and Donnie does more of the hardware when it comes to what they make.
#image described#rottmnt#rottmnt au#draxum raises the turtles au#mcmt au#rottmnt donnie#donatello hamato#rottmnt oc#sophia oc#<- her working name so i can tag it lol#rottmnt fanart#my art#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#if i end up drawing her more i need to streamline her design a bit but eh whatever
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Okay fine, I can’t keep MeowNyation Racers hidden forever.
I designed these like a month or two ago as a joke but I kind of….like this au a lot -to the point where I’ve even made my own altered cat version plot… (and versions of my own ocs as cats…)
Bonus Chief doodles (guys did…did you know chief is my favourite character… betcha didn’t…) the traditional one isn’t finished properly yet :P
Anyway one of the main reasons he’s a fluffy white cat is in homage to a cat I used to know who was incredibly fluffy but disliked any physical touch. They would go crazy if you even attempted to pet them. (Sort of like that scene with Tag trying to give Chief a hug..?)
to make things worse I even doodled my own mnr ocs as cats…this is how far I got…
I’m not 100% on Mother and Tag, I maaaay redesign them ever so slightly…
#MeowNyation Racers#ModNation Racers#i apologise#ModNation Racers Chief#ModNation Racers oc#ModNation Racers Espresso#ModNation Racers Tag#ModNation Racers Mother#ModNation Racers Richard#Tag#Mother#The Chief#Biff Tradwell#Gary Reasons#Richard Short#That unnamed assistant guy who got fired but still follows Richard around#Added the short name hashtags so I can find the characters on my account without needing to type the whole game name out ignore this lol#As cats#cat au#my art
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WIP WEDNESDAY
The people have been reacting well to cunty dame so have some more :)
~~~~~~
All this to say – Nicky leaving was putting a major crimp in Dame’s lifestyle. She plucked a glass of champagne off a tray, taking a long sip and surveying the room from her perch near the window. Tia and Kam were deep in conversation next to the food table, while Nicky — as the guest of honor — was in the middle of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of their coworkers.
Kam walked over a moment later, a small plate of hors d’œuvres in hand. “So, are you planning to go talk to your girlfriend?” She asked conversationally.
Dame rolled her eyes, plucking a canapé off of her best friend’s plate and popping it into her mouth. “Nicky’s not my girlfriend.”
“Try telling her that,” Kam retorted, giving Nicky a polite wave and a smile. Nicky smiled back at her before turning her gaze to Dame, smile softening.
“She knows,” Dame said. “I’ve told her. I’m not the girlfriend type. It’s just a bit of fun, nothing more.”
“Yeah well, the trail of brokenhearted girls you leave behind shows that well enough,” Kam shoved her playfully.
Dame pursed her lips to hide her smile. “You’re just jealous,” she teased, finishing off her champagne flute and stepping forward to greet Nicky who had made her way over.
Dame leaned over, placing a ghost of a kiss on each of her cheeks. “Nicky,” she murmured. “Lovely party. Shame it's goodbye.”
“It doesn’t have to be. You could come back to Paris with me.” Nicky looked up at her hopefully.
Dame plucked another flute of champagne off the tray of a passing server, letting out a noncommittal hum as she looked away, meeting eyes with the Spanish woman who worked in reception, flashing her a wink and a smile. “Better not, I’m quite enjoying London,” she said flippantly.
#can you tell I’m having fun :)#also I wrote this on my phone in the parking lot between choir and work so if there’s typos shut up#obviously unedited#but I’m enjoying it#also I really need to come up with a name for this story#like I can’t just keep calling it cunty dame au#cunty dame au#lol#my writing#wip Wednesday#work in progress Wednesday#kam Hugh#Nicky doll#La grande dame#I’m not gonna tag her but the unnamed Spanish woman is arantxa#for visualization purposes#anyways enjoy :)#pls lmk your thoughts I live and die by peoples reactions to my writing#also I need to figure out what everyone is wearing hm I should do that soon#also I’m trying so hard to show more stuff for people who can visualize stuff in their heads#pls tell me if it’s working#am I on the right track#I can’t picture stuff so I always forget to explain things in a way that helps people who can bc it feels so irrelevant to me lmao
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I'd like to know more about your sides as avatars AU, if you'd like to share :D
Idk what to ask, so just tell me all about it and I'll come up with questions. I'm really curious about it
-g
I've been thinking about it constantly but in terms of stuff I haven't already said I don't think I have toooo much?
Like I said I wanna include Hades and Homer, and I've been imagining both of them as avatars of The End in different ways.
Hades is a taxidermist (it was between that and a mortuary person but my partner voted for taxidermist so that's where I ended up) but the way he does the whole fear generation thing is like. Appearing sort of like as an omen of death. I'm horrible with articulating my ideas lmao I've just been imagining him standing there menacingly and that putting the fear of death into people for the most part.
As for Homer. I've been imagining a reanimated corpse situation with him, sort of like the Jane Doe cadaver from Georgie's statement. As for what he does...I don't have specifics on that one. Obviously there's the option to also have him do the whispering thing but idk.
I also figured out the Critic (who for reference I refer to as Dice- I think the fandom settled on Anton but Dice is too firmly cemented in my brain atp)! He is an avatar of The Vast :] big space fan that guy. He is going to toss you straight into the exosphere /j
Also another thought I've been having is Remus using Logan as Surviving The Horrors For Dummies. Got weird shit going on? Go ask Logan! It's how he found out Roman didn't get bodysnatched. Logan definitely hits him with the "figure it out yourself damn it" a lot though. Logan's just trying to collect information he isn't trying to be Monster Google, Remus.
#michael makes a statement!#<- this is my yapping tag now it is largely a bmc reference but the usage of statement was very tma inspired lol#I also need to come up with a name for this damn AU so I can start tagging it lol#I say lol a lot huh#lol. lmao even.
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like i genuinely cannot believe thegall that she has quinn saying that oh they loved being servants... really??
[ID: Text reading:
"“I let them go into the front parlor together, and then I went into the kitchen for lunch, where Jasmine was just telling Big Ramona that they were rich. I hated to break up their happiness with my glum looks and I blamed it all on hunger. Besides, Jasmine had always been rich and so was Big Ramona. They just never wanted to leave Blackwood Manor, everybody knew."/end ID]
#twist rambles#vc posting#sorry im so fucking sick of it. 1. set in 1990. 2. she does this w like quite literally EVERY slave character (of which most are barely#prominent characters outside of her using antiblack stereotypes. as im sure u can imagine which one of those a character named big ramona#fits.) and 3. we are really supposed to be on quinns side after it seems he pressured jasmine into sex after using terms such as#“my chocolate candy” “cafe au laut” “milk chocolate” to her. like out loud. we are supposed to like this guy?? like her racism (annes) know#no bounds atp#ask to tag#yeah haha the servants loveee being here lol they dont even need to be paid ^_^ theyre just that rich bc we are some of the GOOD ones. jesu#and this has been going on since the start of the book and just keeps on coming over and over#like not even to get into how all of these esrvants are objectified and jasmine esp is just reduced to a sex object. but the seconddd quinn#sees a white lady hes literally proposing. but jasmine isnt good enough for that in the narratives portrayal of her. its all fucking vile.#i dont want to hear ANYONE say she didnt have horrific handling of race when all this happens in this book and last book had mar.ius#referring to an indian man like he was an animal and had no human qualities. like genuinely i do not think ppl know how bad it is bc most#ppl stop after the first 3 books. and for good reason. anyways good god im so pissed off. my beautiful lj buddy had about 3 paragraphs on#the insane classism she demonstrated last chapter and it rly just keeps continuing to this chapter. like im sorry idc abt how rich quinn is#i need him dead. for many reasons. anyways good god. this book is hell.
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adjustment/captain time travel au?
Ah it's an au @latenitewaffles (sorry for the tag buddy) created that combines their Adjustment AU and my Captain AU!
Basically their Katsuro Sanada and my Riku Kirijo get thrown back in time to the events of P3. And shenanigans ensue.
#asks#anonymous#adjustment/captain time travel au#idk if it has an official name but thats the main tag#honestly nico is the brains behind the au im just here for the ride lol#and for riku ofc#it's very fun though there is a LOT of shenanigans#also riku knows a fair bit about the events of p3 (to what extent i haven't decided but enough to know 'hey we need to be prepared)#but poor katsuro doesnt know shit#so on top of having to deal with a younger sees theyve also got this between themselves#riku honestly didnt know that katsuro didnt know shit and also his parent asked him not to say anything#because katsuro's dads didnt want him knowing stuff#so now hes like shit im the only one who knows whats going on wnd i wanna tell him#but what if i fuck up the space time continuem and do i really wanna face the wrath of his dads if i do say anything#also riku has to go to gekkoukan which is like. nightmare fuel for him#he ditches as much as he possibly can LMAOOO
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this fic is at 41k now... there is something wrong with me
#I still need to come up with a title for it#so I can actually vague it with the name#instead of just like talking about it lol#and so I can make a tag for it#but the currewnt title that I use to refer to it in my head has spoilers#because it is a very straightforward au tbh#rambling#phever dreams with phantom#liveblogs writing#anyway yeah im on chapter five and its 40k
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fresh out the slammer [guilty as sin part five] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x sainz!reader
no court cases, no ferrari PR jail... i'm sure nothing will happen, right?
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
f1
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,289,405 others
tagged: olliebearman, francocolapinto & pepemarti
f1: THERE IT IS!!! The 2025 grid is set with Ollie Bearman at Haas, Franco Colapinto at Williams and Pepe Marti at Sauber.
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user317: HOLY SHIT
user318: i hate to celebrate someone losing their job in this economy but FUCK THAT MAN WOO HOO WELCOME TO UNEMPLOYMENT CARLOS SAINZ
olliebearman: can't wait to get started (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
user319: when are you going to recruit pepe and kimi to the leclerc family agenda
pepemarti: y/n has been my celeb crush since i was like 13 (sorry charles) so trust me idc about the spanish guy
olliebearman: he fully doesn't play about y/n, he even tries to read poetry (key word being tries)
pepemarti: you can shame me all you like but i think y/n would appreciate the effort
yourusername: you would be correct !
pepemarti: OMG ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-
charles_leclerc: i'll take you in if you promise you're over your crush on y/n, it would be very inappropriate
pepemarti: I AM I SWEAR
user320: i know carlos gotta be sick seeing the spanish youngster freak out more about his sister
yourusername: i fear he has bigger fish to fry right now
user321: @carlossainz55 BOO! did i scare you? i'm a job application
user322: being on the internet as a sainz fan gotta be torture at this point
user323: former delusional carlando fan here! he brought this upon himself lol
maxverstappen1: evil may be conquered but these three and kimi look like prime candidates to join the united front of hating
yourusername: we gotta get them started while they're young
charles_leclerc: i fear we don't have enough room in the house for all these kids
francocolapinto: do we really need the aussie?
oscarpiastri: i was here before you ???
yourusername: we can get bunkbeds?
olliebearman: does leo really need him own room
charles_leclerc: WATCH THAT TONE
kimiantonelli: i'm quite small if that helps
yourusername: looks like we have a new favourite
pepemarti: ????????
user324: see? carlos loses his job and suddenly all is good in f1 again... coincidence? i think not.
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 1,945,209 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, olliebearman & kimiantonelli
yourusername: and the pieces all fall into place ...
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user326: this is a level of motherism we have yet to see in f1
user327: and mother in a literal sense these ones take her up to like five grid kids and one dog
maxverstappen1: don't erase her cat godson and goddaughter
yourusername: leo is almost fully cat trained ( ≧ᗜ≦)
albonpets: do not even think of coming for our brand
yourusername: which one am i talking to?
albonpets: HORSEY
yourusername: ... okay then
charles_leclerc: seriously?
yourusername: i'm not going to fight a (my favourite) albon cat charles, i may have the sainz last name but i'm NOT carlos
charles_leclerc: it'll be leclerc before you know it
yourusername: (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)
user328: no because at this point i can fully picture carlos having an argument with a cat
albonpets: we're down to tussle for y/n
user329: i'm dying, carlos lost so bad ALBON PETS ARE SHADING HIM
user330: guys are we ready for monza tho? y/n and charles fully back, the united front of hating back, italy don't play about charles... carlos girl i'd sit this one out it doesn't even matter that you're driving the red car
maxverstappen1: at least it won't be me being booed for once
carlossainz55: i'm not a bitch. if people want to boo me they'll only expose themselves as sheep
oscarpiastri: BAAAA
olliebearman: BAAAA
francocolapinto: BAAAA
kimiantonelli: BAAAA
pepemarti: BAAAA
charles_leclerc: parenthood is so precious
carlossainz55: you think i care that these little runts like you guys? they'll be out the sport faster than your other little pet american
logansargeant: at least i'm pretty
francocolapinto: sorry i can't hear you over my williams seat - you really thought that was gonna be yours huh 🤔
user331: obsessed with how carlos has just resorted to name calling because his only 'ammunition' against y/n is that she always wanted to marry charles and didn't want to work
user332: if that's illegal LOCK ME UP BABY
yourusername: they nearly did 😭
user332: oh yeah my bad g
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 4,398,400 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: fresh out the slammer
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user333: LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO
francocolapinto: VAMOSSSSSS
user334: this was actually insanely poetic, ferrari i'm still angry at you but thank you for this genius strategy
user335: today you are excused, tomorrow we go back to hating
user336: the north remembers
yourusername: never in doubt starboy - i love you, you deserve this so much
charles_leclerc: i love you more, this win is for you after everything we've been through
yourusername: you're too sweet - it's all you baby and the win is all yours, my prize is being. yours
charles_leclerc: so glad we could have all of our REAL family around us today
yourusername: i love you all ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
oscarpiastri: i guess if there's anyone to lose to here, it would be my grid dad
francocolapinto: if you don't want the P2 i'll gladly take it off of your hands
yourusername: okay babies let's calm down and celebrate that we ALL scored points today
olliebearman: thanks mum and dad
pepemarti: did you guys see my F2 podium (๑>◡<๑)?
charles_leclerc: we did!
yourusername: well done pepe :3
pepemarti: hehehehehehheheheheehehehe
maxverstappen1: oh boy got out of ferrari jail and now we're ALL being subjected to the conjugal visits
charles_leclerc: stay outta my business
maxverstappen1: BROTHER 4 MILLION PEOPLE IN YOUR BUSINESS
yourusername: and four million people know my man is off limits
yourusername: @carlossainz55 stop paying instagram models to flirt with my man
charles_leclerc: @carlossainz55 what money are you using for this i had to close my DMs
user337: HE'S PAYING INSTAGRAM MODELS TO TRY AND FLIRT WITH CHARLES THE VERY GUY WHO HAD HIS CHILDHOOD RIVAL DELIVER LOVE LETTERS WHEN HIS PHONE WAS TAKEN ???
oscarpiastri: we never said carlos was smart
f1tea
liked by user339, user340 and 11,943 others
f1tea: the ramifications of the sainz civil war may be a lot worse than previously feared. carlos sainz does not have a seat for the 2025 f1 season and doesn't look like he'll be chosen for a reserve role either with bridges with red bull firmly burnt. however, one of the biggest effects of this 'war' has been on those who still choose to associate with carlos. it's been reported that mclaren have had to turn down a number of sponsors after they asked that it is only run on oscar's car and that lando norris is not seen with the brand. do you think we'll see lando jump ship from carlos or will mclaren become a safehaven for sainz?
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user341: mclaren? a safe haven for carlos sainz? the same mclaren that houses the first child of y/n and charles? i'd like to see them try
user342: finally the carlando PR spin is dead
user343: they way they both thought that was their ultimate get out of jail free card and now it's like incriminating
user344: isn't this all getting a little petty now? like y/n and charles are together and carlos doesn't have a seat? what's the point of keeping all of this drama going?
user345: tbf this 'drama' was never going away the moment they exposed themselves for trying to use their daughter/sister as bait to further carlos' career
user346: if that wasn't downright criminal then unlawfully suing your daughter/sister for everything she rightfully earnt WAS
user347: yeah just because 55 fans and the sainzs themselves want to bury that loss doesn't mean it's not like one of the first things that come up when. you google carlos - of course sponsors are not gonna want ANYTHING to do with that
user348: poor lando getting caught in the petty crossfire
user349: i mean he was shit slinging at y/n after austria and that girl has levels of voodoo only taylor swift can better
user350: he's also a grown man who has seen this all go down behind the scenes so he's made his bed and has to lie in it
user351: the way the sponsors are just piling up for charles as well karma really is doing a number right now
user352: his charm is so universal that oscar is becoming one of the most marketable drivers as well
user353: no but as someone who was on the ground at monza, it's BAD like people were wearing their sainz merch with the 55 or spanish flag covered up
user354: oh he got them acting like middle aged football fans it's BAD
user355: at least they haven't started burning stuff yet
user356: if he takes out charles i fear it won't take long
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,452,097 others
yourusername: my new poetry and letter collection, the alchemy, is out today and you guys already made it a new york times bestseller. my heart is so full! the last couple months made me feel like i would never get to love so thank you for showing me that everything is possible x
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user357: ma'am i am in love with you
user358: get in line buddy
charles_leclerc: i will run all of you over
maxverstappen1: thank you for the dedication, it was a traumatic time for us all
yourusername: you simply could've not read my private letters to my lover?
maxverstappen1: and where's the fun in that?
yourusername: a pigeon wouldn't have done this to me...
maxverstappen1: yeah well a pigeon also hasn't been your best friend for years and doesn't have a couch and cats to comfort you
yourusername: you make a good point
user359: she's really out here making me believe in love
charles_leclerc: the most talented woman in the world, i'm blessed to be on the receiving end of such words
yourusername: writing is so much easier with a muse like you
charles_leclerc: you're making me blush
user360: sure if my boyfriend was a greek god i'd also write good poetry
charles_leclerc: no you couldn't, not like her
yourusername: (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
lewishamilton: congratulations y/n, what an achievement! however, i do think the real achievement here is getting this grid to read a book
georgerussell63: excuse me?
alexalbon: ... you got me but i wanted the tea ☕️
charles_leclerc: APPRECIATE THE POETRY PEOPLE
alexalbon: funny how the letters were back and forth... but none of yours made it to the book
yourusername: ALEX :(
charles_leclerc: i didn't want my sad ramblings to drag down her shine - i thought you would get that seeing how bad you are at golf compared to lily
lilymunhe: oop.
user361: where are the children
yourusername: eating my cake :(
maxverstappen1: they're actually being really cute and are all sat in a circle reading it (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
charles_leclerc: gotta make sure they can read none of us finished school
f1
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 2,309,450 others
tagged: maxverstappen1 & carlossainz55
f1: LAST LAP SHUNT! Carlos Sainz takes Max Verstappen out in baku and the two did not mince their words on the radio
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user363: not to be dramatic but that's lowkey attempted murder
user364: at this point carlos is trying to ACTUALLY recreate that list of crimes meme
user365: let's get his ass in JAIL then
oscarpiastri: if i speak i'm in big trouble
carlossainz55: speak it big man - if you wanna act like a big guy back it up
oscarpiastri: okay you are a narcissistic misogynist who can't bear being told no. you are a talented man but without your name you would be nowhere but you lack the selfawareness to be grateful for where you are which is why you don't have a job. you are reckless and dangerous and the very few friends you have will drop you when you no longer serve a purpose in f1
user366: oh shit babe came out swinging
oscarpiastri: i'm hearing a lot of CRICKETS?
oscarpiastri: exactly - pussy.
user367: thank you franco colapinto for bringing back drivers with zero media training
user368: once again i am asking for proximity chat in f1
user369: the sweet souls on twitter would NOT be able to handle it
yourusername: bro tried to assassinate my best friend but i'm the problem
carlossainz55: stop being so dramatic, if anyone was to purposely hurt someone it would be max - look where he came from
yourusername: first of all FUCK YOU
yourusername: second of all, max is stronger than you ever will be, how dare you try and use his childhood against him when you know he's nothing but a gentle soul
yourusername: thirdly, by this logic the reason i'm such a 'gold-digging back-stabbing whore' is because of YOU GUYS
user370: i am absolutely losing it at the fact that carlos is furiously typing these at the fia HQ
user371: i know his PR officer is TIRED
francocolapinto: sorry our uncle got sniped but we did also get points @olliebearman
olliebearman: JUST TO SAY WE WENT TO SEE MAX AND HE IS OKAY BUT YES THANK YOU FOR THE POINTS
yourusername: guys lets keep the inside thoughts inside
francocolapinto: so you're not proud of us (╹ -╹)?
yourusername: I AM, I AM, WE ARE (charles is on the podium he'll tell you later)
francocolapinto: ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
olliebearman: ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
maxverstappen1
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,387,300 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i lived bitch
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user372: they're gonna have to do a little more than that to take down the united front of hating
user373: 50g can't stop the grind for these dudes
maxverstappen1: i would call that man a bitch with my last breath
user374: them celebrating the end of carlos' career by doing a mukbang is killing me
user375: when the funeral food be good as fuck you be forgetting who died
carlossainz55: you guys really are so pathetic
maxverstappen1: i didn't try to pimp out my sister, make her homeless then sue her but that might just me be
maxverstappen1: also the data will prove what we all know btw
carlossainz55: that you're reckless just like your daddy?
maxverstappen1: at least i can admit my dad is an asshole and i distanced myself, your dad is just as much a bitch but you gotta parade him around because no one else can bear being around you
carlossainz55: the only bad thing my dad ever did in his life is help bring the spawn of satan into the world
maxverstappen1: whatever, enjoy your race ban bozo
user376: is max suggesting ... it was on purpose
user377: if it was carlos might just be as dumb as they all say because fool was about to get a podium
yourusername: THEY CAN'T GET RID OF US BITCH
maxverstappen1: you're a sick motherfucker if you're enjoying this sainz disasterclass well i only just got out of the medical centre 🤧🤧🤧
charles_leclerc: no but deadass we're sorry you got taken out
maxverstappen1: someone had to be the mercutio to you people's romeo and juliet
maxverstappen1: PLEASE DO NOT KILL YOURSELVES AFTER I'VE GONE THROUGH ALL THIS SHIT FOR YOU
yourusername: we can't leave you with all these kids
charles_leclerc: yeah that's a lot of kids to inherit
user378: christian horner i hate you but you gotta get on your zoom
oscarpiastri: where's my congratulations 🤨
maxverstappen1: @yourusername @charles_leclerc yeah you can keep your kids
charles_leclerc: we're proud of you oscar (don't beat me again)
yourusername: well done oscar (your verbal takedown was particularly impressive as well)
oscarpiastri: 🤭🤭🤭
fin
note: lol i'm back. i was busy with work and then in hospital. but we all love guilty as sin? will get to tagging soon one sec
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1 social media au#f1#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc social media au
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Legal Briefs
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lawyer!Dokyeom x fem!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, corporate au, 18+, non-idol au 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, riding, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names, slight exhibitionism, oral (m. receiving), clit stimulation, squirting 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dokyeom is stressed out over his case, and you use your brain in more ways than one to help him relax.
AN: Thank you to @miabebe for beta reading this for me at the last minute and @miniseokminnies being lovely. This is a repost, as this fic was originally written for another idol. I have decided to edit it and make it fit Dokyeom more. I hope you enjoy it <3. Also, tagging @onlyseokmins because that's your man, duh, lol. If you want to be tagged in future fics, sign up here🤎
Dokyeom is one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in your country, and you understand how hard he works daily to maintain that reputation. You were a lawyer when you met him, so you know the ins and outs of the legalities and how stressful it can be defending clients. Your first time seeing him was at a kickboxing gym you both frequented and then on the opposite end of the court, duking it out to protect your clients involved in a breach of contract. You may have won that battle, but in the end, Dokyeom won your heart, and you left the corporate life behind to be a housewife.
You walk into the swanky thirty-floor office building, and the security guard greets you as you approach the elevator. You are holding Dokyeom’s favorite lunch, pizza with cheese sticks, secured in a heated lunch box. You also brought fruit and juice, which he has been into lately. It’s a nice day outside, and what would be better than spending lunch with your husband?
You hum your way up to the 20th floor, greeted by the receptionists as the elevator doors open. The anticipation is building, and the excitement and butterflies in your stomach are brewing as you make your way to his office. You speak to everyone that makes eye contact with you. Everyone knows you as the boss’s wife, a hotshot lawyer, giving it all up for love.
“Hi,” his secretary greets you nervously as you approach her desk. “He seems a bit stressed out today. That case with the pharmaceutical company isn’t going well, and I’m pretty sure I heard papers flying around.”
This concerns you, as it is different from Dokyeom to lose his cool like that. You thank her and tap quietly on the office door, waiting to hear his voice before entering.
“Yes?” His smooth voice makes your heart jump.
You open the door, and your eyes widen at the scene before you. There are papers and folders all over the floor. Dokyeom is lying on the sofa, his suit jacket covering his face and his arms folded on his chest.
“I take it you’re having a bad day?” You ask gently, setting the lunch down on his desk.
His face lights up when he lays his eyes on you, jacket falling to the floor as he jumps up to greet you.
“I wasn’t expecting you here,” he replies before getting up and kissing your cheek. “I would’ve cleaned up.”
“And miss all this drama?” you tease him. “Come on, I’ll help you put everything back.”
You survey the papers and put the files back in their folders. You know where everything goes because you helped him set up his file system to make his life easier. You may not be practicing law right now, but it doesn’t mean you haven’t had to use your expertise a few times to help your husband win a few cases. You initially quit your previous firm because you felt burnt out and needed a break. Then, when you got married, you wanted to spend time being a new wife and try for a family. Dokyeom supported you in all of that. He never made you feel inferior or less than for stepping away from your career to be at home. Now, it’s been two years, and the children haven’t come yet, but maybe it’s just not time, as lately, you have been missing practicing law.
Dokyeom helps you and profusely apologizes. “You don’t need to apologize,” you wave him off. But this is not like you; what happened?”
His expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He takes a deep breath before putting the last envelope into the bookshelf.
“I am missing a critical piece of evidence, a part of a contract that proves my client’s innocence,” Dokyeom begins, clutching onto the desk. “I know who to subpoena, but the judge is being a real asshole and won’t allow me to access those documents. So my client might lose, and then they’ll drop me, which means bye to our house.”
He removes his tie and takes a sip from his water bottle, his Adam's apple shifting as he gulps. Your very frustrated husband is also very hot, and it’s taking all your willpower to stay on task.
“Listen,” you redirect your focus to his problem. “There’s no guarantee that you will lose this case, and we definitely are not losing our house. Why don’t you eat the lunch I brought, and we will figure it out, okay?”
He nods and kisses you on the forehead, his way of saying thank you that still makes you feel warm inside. You watch him take out his lunch, and you start to eat yours, making small talk about your day as you dig through the cheese sticks.
“When did you order this, babe?” Dokyeom asks, mouth stuffed with pepperoni and cheese. “You were cleaning up when I left for work.”
“I ordered it right before I came up here,” you say proudly, feeding him some of your pizza. “I got tired of eating lunch alone and wanted to see you. Looks like you needed me too.”
He gives you a kind smile that soothes your soul like a warm hug. You talk more about the case as you clear out your food containers. Dokyeom mentions that he has been trying to get the evidence to no avail for the past week. Watching him stressing himself out bothers you, as you know how hard he has worked on this case, and you want to see him succeed. His eyes were glued to the papers in front of him, skimming over everything to find a possible loophole. You can’t help but take in how handsome he looks, focused on his work, his jaw clenching as his frustration mounts.
So, you came up with an idea.
“Hey, babe,” you get his attention, removing your cardigan. “I’m going to help you relax, okay?”
He nods, his shoulders still tense up from reading over the paperwork. You move behind him, relaxing your hands on his shoulders before you massage them, making him feel more at ease. You start unbuttoning his shirt, reaching down to rub his chest while leaving kisses on his neck.
“Well, this is one way to do it,” Dokyeom hums, setting down his pen. He moves his head and kisses you deeply, his hands gracing your face softly, pulling you deeper into his rapture of love. You make a move to sit on his lap, taking off your tank top and exposing your favorite bra that pushes up your breasts just right.
“Was this always the plan?” He smirks, leaving kisses down your neck. His lips suck on your sweet-tasting skin, his tongue trailing down to the valley of your breasts.
“And if it was?” You move in front of him, sitting on his lap, and your skirt hikes over your hips. “What are you going to do about it?”
He chuckles and kisses you more, removing your bra and throwing it across the office. You lift and reach down, undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, feeling the growing bulge hardening along your slit. “No panties? Aw, baby…”
“What?” You smiled coyly. “Do you want me to leave? I can just get up—”
“W-what? No, no, it’s not that,” his cheeks turn pink in a panic. “I hate to rush, but I have to be in a meeting in twenty minutes,” Dokyeom’s breathing hitches as his hand touches his manhood, stroking his thick girth to your naked breasts and exposed ass. You lower yourself until you are on your knees, moving his hand away as you take over. You kiss his dick just the way he likes it, his legs tensing up as you take him in your mouth. His thickness takes over your mouth as you suck him good, your free hand playing with your clit as you watch him cock his head back and curse softly.
“Baby, you are so good at this,” he murmurs. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
He gently fucks your face, pacing himself so he doesn’t blow his entire load down your throat. Your eyes lock with his as you take him in deeper, drops of saliva spilling out of the corner of your mouth. Dokyeom is ashamed to admit it, but he likes it when you look like this: the makeup on your sweet face ruined with tears because you sucked him off so well. You would never tell him this, but you love how he tastes. The way his smooth cock hits the back of your throat makes you dripping wet, and if you keep up any longer, you will cum on this floor.
“H-honey,” he sputters. “I have 15 minutes. Get on top.”
You slowly take him out of your mouth with a pop, lifting yourself and positioning yourself to sink into him. You both groan in unison when you are entirely on his lap, your nails digging into the armrest of his chair.
“This won’t take long, I promise,” you mutter, giving yourself a few seconds to get used to his size before slowly grinding on him and enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you. His body tenses at your movements and his fingers massage your clit softly. You unexpectedly let out a loud moan, and he covers your mouth with his hand.
“I know this feels good, bouncing on my hard dick, but you are going to have to keep it down, princess,” he grits.
Dokyeom knows what that does to you, calling you princess as he fucks you into an earth-shattering orgasm. You’re a squirter, and he knows that, so it was unsurprising that your lower halves were covered with your essence. Your eyes never leave each other, whispering I love you and trading meaningful kisses. Dokyeom’s head rolls back, whispering songs of praise as you continue to ride him on his office chair.
“Baby, I’m close,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips. You grind on him hard, finding your clit and releasing again shortly after. Dokyeom follows right behind you, spilling deep inside of you as his head buries deep into your neck. As he slows down, he kisses you lovingly, making sure your cunt is full of his cum before pulling out. You're still trying to catch your breath when you climb off of him to clean yourself up.
“Mr Lee?” His secretary’s voice booms through the speaker, startling you both. “Your meeting starts in five minutes.”
“O-okay.”
You can see the time on his laptop, and the 5-minute reminder before the meeting stops flashing wildly on his screen. You find your bra and hurriedly put it on, with Dokyeom already dressed and holding your tank top and cardigan.
“What?” You catch him staring at you curiously.
“You are so bad.” “Well, isn’t that why you fell in love with me? Aside from me beating your ass in court, of course.”
You finish getting dressed, helping him put his tie back on, and kissing him goodbye before heading out the door. You catch a photo you missed picking up earlier, and something catches your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks.
“Babe.” You pick up the photograph and inspect it thoroughly. “What’s the name of the judge?”
“Judge Choi,” he responds, preparing himself for his meeting. “Why?”
“This wouldn’t happen to be the judge in the 17th court, would it?
You pull out your phone and look him up, confirming your suspicions.
“Okay, I know that look,” Dokyeom comments, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?”
“This judge used to give me shit when I was practicing, but I always found a way to get around him,” you start. “There was talk about him being a crooked judge and being paid off by companies, but I could never confirm it until now. Look at the picture.”
You show him the photograph of the rival company at an event, pointing at the missing piece of the puzzle: the judge and the company’s CEO, arm in arm, taking a picture. “That’s why the judge is shutting you down, babe,” you confirm. “He has ties to the other guys. Judge Choi should have recused himself a long time ago.”
Dokyeom looks at you, amazed that his wife could figure out why he had this roadblock. “God, what would I do without you?”
“You’d still be losing to me in court.” You kiss him goodbye again, letting him prepare to attend his meeting. You close the door, and his secretary smiles at you and motions for you to come closer to her.
“You should be more careful in there, dear,” she advises. “The whole office heard you.”
#kvanity#kwritersworldnet#svthub#svt fanfic#svt oneshot#svt scenarios#svt imagines#ksmutsociety#svt smut#seventeen smut#seokmin fanfic#dokyeom fanfic#seokmin smut#dokyeom smut#svt x reader#seokmin x reader#dokyeom x reader#svt hard hours#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader
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Kinktober 「10:14」 — j.wonwoo
» seventeen menu | wonwoo menu | kinktober masterlist «
➮ vampire!Wonwoo × fem!Reader wc: 3.8k summary: Y/N has always avoided sex during her period in the past. Not because she found it gross but because her partners did. Wonwoo is different. Wonwoo loves it. Wonwoo also happens to be a vampire so he might be a bit biased. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, vampires, mentions of: food consumption, blood & blood consumption (vampire, remember?), periods and menstruation, vampiric powers & abilities; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: i've already stated in the smut warnings but if blood bothers you, DO NOT READ THIS. if period sex bothers you, DO NOT READ THIS. This is filthy, nasty, and i don't care lol i've done my part to warn those who don't want to see this. to those of you that do read this, i see you and i'm kissing ur forehead. wonwoo is a vampire, blood does no phase him at all. this is for my bestie Sky cause this is her main ult so, enjoy this, my love! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), bloodplay (if it makes you uncomfortable, LOOK AWAY. i’m not responsible for your media consumption. I’m warning you now. If anything to do with blood makes you uncomfortable, this fic is not for you!), period sex (again. Look away if you don’t like it.), oral (m receiving, f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms. Wonwoo doesn’t need to cause this ain’t twilight), use of pet names (darling, baby, etc.), soft dom!Wonwoo, sub!Reader, I think that’s everything but if I missed something, let me know! kinks: Bloodplay + period sex dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Aw darling, I almost believe you. ❜❜
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��Are you sure there isn’t anything else?” your boyfriend asked over the phone. “All I have here are pads, chocolate, sliced pepperonis, and root beer. Do you need a heating pad or some pain relief?”
You let out a soft laugh as you leaned back against your pillows. “No,” you answered. “I have the heating pad and I’ve already taken enough ibuprofen to knock out a child,” you continued. “I just need those things.” Silence fell over you as you adjusted the heating pad that was tucked under your blanket.
“And maybe you,” you added in an undertone. You heard a deep chuckle on the other side of the phone. “Well, let me check out and then once I’m there, I’m all yours, baby,” Wonwoo answered. “Okay, please hurry,” you said as another cramp hit, a sharp pain deep in your abdomen making you wince and whimper in pain.
Wonwoo frowned as he heard you whimper. He hated seeing and hearing you in pain, it made his non beating heart hurt. “Can you open a window?” he asked as he headed towards the self checkout. “Yeah.. I think so. Why?” you asked, confusion in your voice.
“So I can just come in without bothering with the front door,” Wonwoo answered as he started to set his items down, scanning them while holding the phone to his ear. “Jeon Wonwoo, you are not flying into my open window on the twentieth story! You will use the lobby elevator like everyone else,” you scolded.
Wonwoo held back a laugh as a smirk crossed his face as he deposited his scanned items into a plastic bag. “Unless you want everyone to know you’re a vampire, I suggest you act like a person and walk through the front door like all guests do.” As he finished scanning, he tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder as he fished out his wallet.
“Alright, alright,” he said as he pulled out his card, holding it over the reader until the light blinked and the reader beeped. He slid the card back into his wallet, stuffing it back in his pocket as he grabbed his phone and bag, nodding towards the store attendant and making a move for the exit.
“I promise I will walk through the front door, use the elevator, and walk to your door like every other normal, boring human,” he whispered as he exited the shop onto the sidewalk. “Good,” you replied, sounding pleased. “Let yourself in,” you added quickly. “You know the code.”
The walk to your place was only ten minutes for him from the shop where he’d picked up the items you requested and then some. The thought of flying to your window and entering your apartment that way was even more appealing as he forced himself to walk the same pace as those around him. It would have saved so much time but he did promise.
The elevator ride up was slow but thankfully empty and when he reached your floor, he walked to your door at the end of the hall, punching in the code on the number pad which beeped and he let himself in, opening the door and shutting it behind him.
Your apartment was cool, mimicking the cool temperatures outside over the misty city. He walked further into the apartment after removing his shoes. He walked into the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter and unpacking the things he bought. As he put the bag away, he heard a small whine coming from your room. He walked down to your room in a split second and carefully pushed open the door, peering into the room.
The curtains had been drawn, leaving only a sliver of light coming into the room. The TV was on, some show you weren’t paying attention to playing in the background. On the middle of the bed, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by a small mountain of plushies was a lump which he could correctly assume was you. He let himself into the room, crossing to the edge of your bed and removing his coat which he threw on the chair in the corner.
He gently climbed onto the bed, the movement making your body dip with the mattress.
You turned slowly, looking up at him, only your face visible from a small hole in your blanket burrito. Wonwoo let out a chuckle as he laid down behind you, sliding an arm under your entire body and pulled you back against him. “You feeling okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly.
“I’m fine,” you grumbled but he could tell you felt anything but fine.
“Aw, darling,” he said softly, a hint of amusement to his voice. “I almost believe you.”
After a moment, he felt you shake your head no and he only tightened his grip. “It hurts,” you said in a broken voice. “I know,” he murmured, lifting his head and moving a hand to pull the blanket back to expose your head. “I know it hurts, baby,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “And you can’t take any more medicine?” You shook your head again.
“I’ve already taken so much. It’s just not working,” you cried softly. Wonwoo grimaced as your body jerked in pain, doubling over. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the back of your head. “No,” you answered, tucking your head into the blankets. Wonwoo chuckled as he sat up, pulling you into his lap so you were on your back, looking up at him.
“I’m sure you’ll feel better after you eat something,” he said, gently caressing your cheek. “Come on,” he said as he helped you sit up, unwrapping the blankets. You whined as the cool air hit your exposed skin. “You can wrap back up once you get off the bed,” Wonwoo said as he got to his feet, holding your blanket. You scrambled up to join him and he quickly wrapped the blanket around you, enveloping you in its warmth.
“I got all your favorites,” he said as he guided you to the door and down the hall to the living area. You climbed up into one of the stools at the island as he walked into the kitchen, turning on the overhead light. You looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You really went all out,” you said softly.
Wonwoo smiled, walking over to the sink and turning on the faucet to wash his hands. He then moved to open one of your cupboards, grabbing one of your pots, filling it with water and placing it on the stove, turning the burner on. “I was thinking army stew,” he said as he moved to the fridge, peering inside to see what you had, grabbing a package of tiny sausages, a couple eggs, some cheese, and veggies.
You watched as he worked, cutting veggies faster than your eyes could keep up. He added the soup base for the ramen as well as a few other sauce items before adding the sausages, some spam he found in the pantry, fishcake, and the veggies. As those boiled, he cracked the eggs, adding them to a bowl and whisking them with chopsticks.
He added the noodles, cheese and carefully poured the egg mixture in once the noodles softened and placed a lid over it. While it finished cooking, he opened the convenience store tteokbokki, adding the sauce packet and water before placing it in the microwave.
Once everything was done, he moved you to the table, setting up the hotplate before bringing over the pan of stew and setting it down on the hotplate. He finished setting the table, grabbing something to drink and set those down as well before sitting with you. He filled your bowl first before serving himself and you shook your head.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly. “I would have been fine with just some convenience store ramen.” Wonwoo smiled as you took a bite, eyes fluttering shut as you enjoyed the taste. “That right there is exactly why I did it,” he said, picking up a piece of spicy rice cake and eating it. “Seeing you happy and enjoying things makes it all worth it.”
After you had your fill and the pan was cleared, you indulged in some chocolate before returning to your room to watch some TV with Wonwoo, curled up into his side. The food had made you feel better but the cramps were back and you kept whining as every contraction made you press your face into your boyfriend’s chest.
Wonwoo kept one arm around you, holding you against him while he watched the TV screen. He wasn’t really paying attention, not when he could hear every little sound of pain you made, felt every time your heart rate kicked up or the jerk of your body as the pain became too unbearable for you.
“You know,” he said softly, rubbing your shoulder soothingly. “Orgasms can help alleviate menstrual cramps.” You lifted your head to look at him through squinted eyes. “I’m just sayin’!” he said with a shrug. You buried your face in his chest again. “Isn’t that, like, gross though?” you asked, your voice muffled. “Is what gross?” Wonwoo asked.
You lifted your head. “Period sex. Aren’t most guys, like, grossed out by that?”
Wonwoo stared at you dumbfounded. Did you really just say that to him of all people?
“Babe,” he said softly. “I don’t know if you know this,” he started. “But I’m a vampire. Blood does not bother me in the slightest.” Your eyes widened comically. “Oh, right,” you said softly. “But like, that much blood? Wouldn’t that send you into a feeding frenzy or something?”
Wonwoo’s laughter resonated around the room as he threw his head back. “I’m not a shark! I’m a vampire,” he replied, chest bouncing as he laughed. “I can control myself a lot more than you think. Vampires aren’t animals. We don’t smell blood and just go feral,” he continued.
Your cheeks burned as he dispelled your assumptions and you suddenly felt very bad about judging him in that regard. “Sorry,” you said softly. Wonwoo pressed a kiss to your forehead. “For what?” he asked. “Unless you’ve dated other vampires, I don’t think that’s something you would rightfully know. I’m not upset, baby. It’s just a silly notion that movies and television have instilled in the populace.”
Silence fell over the two of you, only the sound of the TV playing softly in the background. “I’d like to help,” he said suddenly. “I’d like to help you feel better and if giving you an orgasm helps, I’m not gonna complain.” Your cheeks burned as you processed his words. “Won’t it get messy?” you asked, your voice meek. Wonwoo kissed the top of your head before getting up and disappearing for a moment.
When he returned, it was with a few of your old red towels. Ones you’d stained in the past when dying your hair at home. “I’m sure you won’t mind if these get stained?” he asked. You shook your head, watching him move to set the towels on the bed before he disappeared again, quick as lightning. He returned with a container of wipes which he set on the bed side table.
“Up,” he said as he grabbed the towels. You scrambled up and watched as he placed the towels down, overlapping them. “Put your blanket over there so you don’t get blood on it,” he instructed, pointing to the chair in the corner. You did as he said and then turned back to face the bed. “C’mere,” he said, holding his hand out.
You walked around the bed, taking his hand, letting out a giggle as he pulled you against him, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a soft kiss. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly, lips ghosting over yours. You nodded in response as his hands moved, sliding down to your hips and pulling you towards him as his lips met yours again, tongue swiping over your bottom lip.
Your lips parted, moaning as you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, caressing your own tongue. His hands continued to roam up and down your body, squeezing your sides, the curve of your ass, cupping your chest. You could feel the heat starting to pool in your belly as you felt his semi-hard cock press against your stomach.
Wonwoo pulled back, breaking the kiss to turn you around to face the bed. His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass back against his growing erection with a groan. “Get on the bed,” he breathed, lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder.
You carefully climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself in the middle of the towels as your boyfriend removed his sweater and pants, leaving on his underwear and white tee as he crawled onto the bed. He pushed the hem of your shirt up, kissing your exposed stomach up towards your chest.
You let out a gasp as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, his mouth claiming it as he teased the bud. You ran your fingers through his hair, head falling back against the pillows. Wonwoo pushed your shirt up past your chest, his hand stabbing and kneading your breast. He pulled away, tongue and lips repeating the same thing on your other nipple before he had you sit up so he could remove your top.
You laid back against the pillows as he kissed down your chest and stomach. He glanced up at you with dark eyes as he started to tug your shorts and underwear down, discarding them and spreading your legs. The smell of blood invaded his senses as he glanced down, seeing the small string of your tampon. He would deal with that later though.
“If you want me to stop at any point,” he said softly, looking up at you. “Just tell me.” You nodded as he lightly raked his nails up and down your thighs. “Nothing is off limits for me,” he explained. “Blood does not bother me, I’ve told you this.” You nodded once more, laying naked under his heated gaze.
You watched as he grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling it off over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. His red eyes studied you as he tossed it aside. Wordlessly, he leaned back over, licking the tips of his fingers before taking your lips in a searing kiss as his wet fingers pressed against your clit, immediately starting to work against it.
You moaned into his mouth as he rubbed slowly, lightly flicking and pinching your clit. Your arousal had started to pool, allowing his fingers to glide much smoother and faster. Tension started to build, heat rising in your body. Wonwoo pulled back, eyes meeting yours. “I’m going to remove this,” he said, fingers gently pulling on the string of your tampon. “Okay?”
You nodded, keeping your body relaxed as he started to pull slowly, removing the plug from your body. Once it was gone, he threw it in the waste bin between your bed and the side table. His fingers were back on you in an instant, rubbing your clit in a circular motion.
Your eyes fluttered shut as your hips started to move, chasing his fingers. You felt his fingers move lower and lower until they slid inside your cunt. You let out a groan as he curled his fingers, keeping his eyes on your face as he moved slowly, pumping his fingers in and out of you, a soft and slight squelching noise making your cheeks burn.
“From now on,” Wonwoo said as he curled his fingers against your walls again. “Don’t wear tampons around me. Just wear pads.” You couldn’t respond as his fingers moved faster, coaxing your body closer and closer to an orgasm.
Just before you came, he stopped, pulling his fingers out of you. “Wonwoo!” you whined as he smirked at you. Looking up at him, you watched as he brought his blood covered fingers closer to his face. “Here,” you said, trying to grab the container of wipes but let out a gasp as he instead stuck his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue instead. “Wonwoo!” you admonished in total shock.
Wonwoo gave you a smile before he maneuvered down your body until his face was level with your cunt. You propped yourself up on your elbows. “No fucking way,” you said but your words fell short as you felt his tongue lick against your slit, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he tasted your blood. The tip of his tongue dipped into your entrance before sliding up to your clit and you fell back against the bed with a moan as he started to lick, tease, and suck the sensitive nub.
The lewd slurping sounds, coupled with the fact that you were freely bleeding onto his tongue had your cheeks burning from embarrassment but you couldn’t deny it was also extremely erotic in a way. Your vampire boyfriend, who was not grossed out by blood, was more than willing to finger you, eat you out, and fuck you while you were on your period.
To say you hit the jackpot was an understatement.
Wonwoo felt the same way. Being allowed to taste you during this time of the month that you normally kept private from him was intoxicating and he knew that this would become your new normal routine.
You let out a whine as your orgasm drew closer and closer, back arching off the towels as Wonwoo flattened his tongue against your clit. Your hips tried to move, chasing the feeling of his tongue against you but he held you down, instead suckling on your clit until you finally came with a moan of his name, fingers tangling in his hair.
Wonwoo continued to lap slowly at your cunt until you shuddered, tugging gently on his hair and breathlessly begging him to stop. He pulled back and you stared in both shock and awe as his blood covered lips as he licked them slowly, maintaining eye contact with you.
You moaned as you watched him lick as much of the blood from his face as he could until he grabbed the container of wipes, pulling one out and wiping the areas of his face he couldn’t reach. He tossed the used tissue away and quickly removed his underwear, pushing the fabric down until his cock sprang free. He kicked them off the rest of the way before moving between your thighs.
“You don’t have to – hng!” you let out a moan as he pushed into your hole easily, the blood and your arousal mixing together to create the best possible lubricant. Any spasming and muscle contractions your uterus had been in the process of making ceased as his cock filled your cunt in one motion.
Wonwoo didn’t even need to give you time to adjust as your walls welcomed his cock instantly. He started to rut into you immediately, hips giving you a few testing thrusts before he really set into a hard and heavy pace. “F-fuck,” you gasped, nails digging into his back as he snapped his hips against yours.
“Feel good?” Wonwoo asked in a deep voice, a hint of amusement in his tone. You nodded eagerly, eyes rolling back as he started to pound into you, the sound of his skin hitting yours filling the room with an undertone of his cock entering your wet cunt.
“I knew it would,” Wonwoo breathed as he grabbed your thigh, pushing it up so he could angle his thrusts to hit the soft gummy spot that had you crying out in pleasure. He didn’t give a damn if your neighbors complained. He loved it when you screamed for him. When he made you feel so good that you cried out in pleasure.
“We’re doing this every time you’re on your period,” he grunted with effort as he slammed into you. “Gonna fuck you every night if I have to just to keep the cramps away.” Your fingers curled into his hair as you held onto him tighter, the leg that wasn’t being held up wrapping around his waist.
“Won-oo,” you mumbled, your grip on his hair tightening. “M’gonna cum.” Wonwoo pushed your thigh against your side, ramming into you, the tip of his cock barely brushing your cervix as he helped you chase your high, your own hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “Fuck,” he growled. “Cum for me, baby. Show me out wet you can really get.”
You came immediately, crying out in pure bliss as your walls clenched around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm before chasing his own. His thrusts grew more erratic, wild and sloppy as your cum and blood mixed, making sloshing sounds as he frantically fucked you. “Ah shit,” he groaned, head burying into your shoulder. “I’m gonna cum, fuck!”
You let out a cry of pain as you felt his sharp teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder as he came, sinking his entire cock into you as his load exploded, releasing a stream of thick milky cum into your bloody cunt. A mixture of the fluid spilled out of you, falling onto the towels under you as Wonwoo sucked from the fresh wound in your shoulder.
He pulled back, murmuring an apology as he licked over the holes created by his teeth. “That’ll heal,” he added as he moved to the other side of your neck, burying his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around him as he gave you a small couple thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into you. “I’ll help you clean,” he added before you could complain about the mess. “Just let me stay like this for a bit.
Clean up was a lot easier than you expected. Wonwoo carried you to the shower, hopping in with you for a bit and helping you wash off, making sure to wash away any cum that spilled out of you. He then got out, drying off and dressing at lightning speed while you finished. He threw the soiled towels and sheets in the wash, placing new ones down before you got out of the shower.
As he requested, you didn’t put another tampon in, instead lining your panties with the pads he picked up for you as you dressed. You pulled on a sweatshirt and shorts, leaving your bra off. Something comfortable and easy for him to remove.
“You know,” he said as you settled on the bed next to him, wrapped up in the blankets and watching the TV at low volume.
“Just in case the cramps come back.”
©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.
#svthub#ksmutsociety#kvanity#mfu-net#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fanfiction#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo smut#wonwoo x reader#kwanisms kinktober 2024#kinktober 2024
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sleep tight | jung jaehyun (m)
synopsis in which you and jaehyun are forced to sleep on the couch of your family’s intimate, budget-friendly vacation home and just can’t seem to find comfortable positioning— that is until he climbs on top of you.
genre nonidol!au, fem!reader, established relationship, mature (smut), and a bit of comedy
minors dni, please ! (nsfw tags under the cut)
warnings edited to the best of my abilities lmao, pretty public sex, unprotected missionary, hair-pulling, and pet names (babe)
word count 3k
a/n i literally wrote this on a whim and have not written smut in a hot minute (so please tread carefully lol)
If it was solely up to you, you and Jaehyun would be comfortably cuddled up in a King sized bed with the appropriate privacy every adult couple should have. But it unfortunately wasn’t up to you— your Mother’s desire to have everyone squeezed into the vacation home she rented and her sheer joy at the fact keeping you from doing what was clearly logical, so you two squirmed for the closest thing to comfort which you were soon realizing was far from happening any time soon.
“Babe,” Jaehyun gritted out, his breath fanning against your neck. His grip on your hips tightened in an effort to ease you but your need to find an actually pleasant position overpowered his hold on you.
You angled your neck, flashing him an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry, but I’m not trying to wake up with a crick in my neck tomorrow.”
Your sympathy for your boyfriend was fleeting, beginning to rustle around in your shared space one again, much to his dismay.
Jaehyun let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to get ahold on your frame as you wriggled around much like a fish out of water. “I think that’s gonna happen no matter how you lay, so just stay still.”
His broad frame engulfed your’s in his endeavor to stop you from moving around, and unbeknownst to you, to stop you from absentmindedly grinding into him. You huffed, already attempting to flounder out of your boyfriend’s arms. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“Easy? Do you not see my feet?” On cue, his sock clad feet wiggled over the armrest on the opposite end of the couch and you fail to bite back a giggle.
“It’s not funny.” Jaehyun muttered, a hint of humor in his tone.
“It kind of is,” you manage to get through his hold, sitting up for a moment. “maybe we should sleep opposite ways—“
A large hand is pressed against your stomach, Jaehyun’s attempt to pull you back down next to him. “No, no. Just stay right here.”
With your body too tired to fight against his strength, you oblige but not without clear suspicion written on your face. “It would probably be more comfortable, Jae,”
“Well, you’ve already started something in this position that I think you should stay and finish.” Jaehyun murmurs lowly, his front pressing further into your side until you realize just what he means.
You sputter out a laugh in amazement, taken aback with your boyfriend’s sheer audacity.
“Are you insane?! My family is literally on the other side of this wall.”
“Yeah, I can hear them snoring. It’ll be quick, promise.”
You scoff, shuffling onto your side in a way that you hoped would tell your boyfriend his idea was perilous and downright deranged. But he only takes it as an opportunity to wrap his body around you once again, his hardened cock pushing into the plush of your ass.
“Jae,” you warn. He only responds with a hum that comes across almost pained, and you screw your eyes shut at just how desperate he sounds. His lips are pressed into the side of your neck, beginning to try and egg you on by layering soft kisses over your skin. Your argument falls short once you feel his tongue swiping against you, and instinctively your neck cranes to allow him to do more.
“…just be quick, okay?” You muster out, falling to your boyfriend’s charms. You can sense the victorious smile that plays on his lips, though it only lasts for a brief second as he takes no time to alter his posture for the first time tonight. His stature suddenly hovering over you, with his knees situated on either side of your hips.
“Shit. You waste no time, huh?”
Jaehyun snickers. “I’ve been thinking about this for the past two hours and every time you moved only weakened my patience, so yeah, I don’t.”
Before you could counter him, his lips were on yours, swallowing any argument you had. It was unusual but thrilling, just how greedy Jaehyun was. A typical night like this between the two of you would flow a lot slower and way smoother than what was currently transpiring. But it was clear in the way your boyfriend’s large hands familiarly roamed the expanse of your body and from how sloppy your kiss was, that he had in fact been dwelling on doing this since you both had been shunned to the couch together.
A melody of teeth knocking, wet pops, and soft but frequent sighs of pleasure began to emerge from the three-seater couch in the middle of the living room. In the middle of your family’s respective rooms, but that fact had quickly traveled to the back of your mind, especially after Jaehyun’s hand had found home underneath your nightgown.
Somehow you managed to escape the hungry lips of your lover to speak, “Don’t tease.” You threaten, just as Jaehyun’s gentle fingers had begun to strum at the fabric of your now dampened panties.
Completely aware of the advantage he held at the moment, Jaehyun chuckled into your mouth, amused. He leans his face back and away from you, but only to the point where the tips of your noses are inevitably able to touch.
“And what if I decide to?” He challenges, two pads of his fingers disobediently playing with your clothed clit. You jolt at the feeling, struggling to keep your authority from wavering.
“Well, you said you wanted to keep this quick, no?” You reverberate your boyfriend’s exact choice of words. Jaehyun’s defiant ministrations stall as he considers his options. Thankfully, the pressure between your legs is lightened and you’re able to relax a bit.
“True. Maybe tomorrow night then.” He sneers before closing the space between you both and abusing your lips. The thought of you both going at it for a second night in a row, and risking the same thing over again welcomes back the reality of the situation.
Driven to get this over with as soon as possible without running the risk of your family peeking their head around the corner, you reach your hand out to grip Jaehyun through his sleep shorts. A guttural groan pushes its way from his throat and down your own, and you're more than happy to keep them coming. Your hand continues to rub the length of his hard-on for a moment before you’re reaching for the waistband of his bottoms.
Jaehyun catches on to your pace, pulling away to sit up in an attempt to help you pull his shorts down. You let him follow through with it, moving onto your own bottoms that took no time to slide down your legs and onto the nearby carpet.
“Ready?” You whisper, situating yourself under your boyfriend, planting your feet on either side of him to allow him greater access to hover over you.
Jaehyun giggles at your eagerness, his length heavy in his left palm while his right landed right by your head. “Mhm,” he muffles into a peck on your lips, “tell me if it’s all too much.”
You wordlessly nod, all too familiar with this string of events. You stiffen momentarily at the feeling of Jaehyun first entering you, shifting uncomfortably until your arms are around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. It’s good that you did, as his length continues to stretch your walls, you start to emit moans that could thankfully be contained into Jaehyun’s mouth.
He steadily rocks his hips into your own, coming to a halt when he’s finally able to bottom out inside of you. His lips travel from your own, to your cheek, and finally by your ear. “Be good for me, yeah?”
The taunting tone in his voice riles you to respond but he interrupts you by dragging his cock through your walls just to thrust back into you. You gasp at the feeling, your eyes rolling in your head.
Jaehyun’s feverious behavior from moments earlier returns, his mouth coming back to silence you as he begins to find a rhythm between your legs. The sound of huffing and the repeated padding of skin against each other filters into the room, and you pray it doesn’t seep past the cracks of your family’s doors or through the walls.
You and Jaehyun play tug-of-war with each other’s lips, teeth snagging one another in between the greedy intrusion of your tongues. It’s a fight to try to keep up with him as he has the upper hand, angling his body in a way that you're sandwiched between him and the couch with little room to wrestle your way out. It doesn’t help that the feeling of his cock drilling into you has you losing your mind.
You’re riding on a high, the pace you’re going at is quickly allowing you to build tension in the base of your stomach, and you can barely focus with that sensation and the distracting muscle of Jaehyun’s roaming your mouth. Key word, almost.
Your eyes peel open momentarily when Jaehyun pulls away from mouth to deliver open mouth kisses on the available area of your neck, bruises threatening to form and tell a story tomorrow from how passionately he suckles on your skin.
“Jae—“ you begin, but pause abruptly at the slim, yet sudden appearance of light under the door frame that belonged to your parent’s room. “Jae!”
The hands that had tightened around your own arms for stability soon came to either side of your boyfriend’s head in a haste to grab his attention. Jaehyun stills at your sudden change in tune and lifts his head accordingly, allowing you to angle his attention to the door across the living room.
“Wha— oh,” he squints before realizing that the yellow light beaming from the floor definitely wasn’t there a couple moments ago. Eyes wide with panic, he turns back to you. Both of your expressions say a thousand words without having to exchange any real conversation. You begin to signal for him to pull out and roll off of you but he declines, shaking his head hurriedly.
“Don’t move.” He warns, so quiet that you could barely hear him. But he knows you definitely did when you glare at him incredulously.
“What do you mean don’t move?! If one of them walks out here and sees us—“ promptly Jaehyun’s palm is placed over your mouth, silencing your rant, following the distant sound of another door shutting.
Simultaneously, your eyes train on the door opposite of the couch. It was clear that one of your parents had woken up with the need to go to the bathroom but the chance of them deciding to wander out of their room to catch their daughter and their precious son-in-law in such a compromising position still pressed on in your mind.
Seconds ticked on like hours, and the longer you two sat like this you became more aware of your boyfriend’s dick that was still wedged between your walls and how you weren’t going to be able to take not moving much longer. Almost as if Jaehyun could sense your restlessness, his eyes flitted over to you, trying his best to swallow his laughter.
You warned him with your eyes the best you could, it could almost be interpreted as a curse from just how piercing your glare was. In retaliation, Jaehyun shifted his hips backwards and retracted out of your walls at an agonizingly slow pace. If it wasn’t for his hand doing its best job at quieting your sounds, you’re sure whoever was stirring in your parents room would be alerted that something was definitely going on outside their door.
Before Jaehyun could terrorize you any further, you both heard the sounds of a door closing again and what seemed to be your Mother murmuring to herself just before the poignant light under the frame ceased back to nothing. Cautious, you both remained still for a beat longer than probably necessary before returning your gazes to each other.
“That was close.” Jaehyun muttered, allowing you to swat away his hand bitterly.
“You think?” You bit, stunned that he could even manage to laugh at the moment.
“You love me,” he answers back, stealing a kiss. You shake your head in disbelief at him, masking your thrill that had boiled from the possibility of you two being caught.
“You’re sick.”
Jaehyun laughs at this, grasping your hips, lifting you up a bit, before leaning down till your face to face once more. This positioning only allows him to slowly ease his way back into you, chipping your anger away quickly.
“Still love me, don’t you?” He taunts.
“We’ll see—“ you interrupt your back and forth with the force of your own lips, Jaehyun’s hips ramming back into your own hastily at the need to keep up with you. It’s clear in both of your movements that you’re both eager for a release of some sort. Your hands find either side of your boyfriend’s face as he manhandles you— his knees sink deeper into the infamous couch from holding your weight up in his arms. The new angle allows you to rut your clit into his pelvis, welcoming a much needed rush that shoots through your body.
It’s damn near feral the way you two devour each other in search for a finish, and if anyone walked in on this very moment you would just have to pack up you and Jaehyun’s bags and never be seen again.
Your moans are ripping through you quicker and are resonating more high-pitch. A tell-tale sign to Jaehyun that you’re close to climaxing. He draws an arm from around your back to inch his hand into your hair, instinctively coiling his fingers in your strands and pulling to edge you on. The action only encourages you and you pull yourself as flush to your boyfriend as physically possible, leaving the span of his thrusts to shorten but your grinding to excel.
“You gonna come for me?” Jaehyun asks, his answer apparent in the way you can barely form a word to retort back. He finds humor in this, and is elated to encourage your hips against him to propel you to your near orgasm.
A pathetic mewl emits from the back of your throat and anything after is hushed by Jaehyun’s mouth. Your release is quick to wash over you while you allow yourself to rut against Jaehyun until your mind finds proper footing. Thankfully, he gives you that time, laying you down on your back once your hips still.
It doesn’t last all too long since soon Jaehyun’s face was in the crook of your neck as you were catching your breath, rocking his hips to chase his own orgasm. You withstand the overwhelming sensation of the continued stimulation, holding out till your boyfriend’s thrusts soon falter into an arrhythmic pace before his hips begin to stutter upon his release. You shudder at the repeated spurts of his come that lined your walls and soon your folds after Jaehyun finally pulled out.
The living room was motionless for a moment, Jaehyun collapsing his body weight onto you tiredly. Your frame follows suit, relaxing into the cushions of the couch beneath you while your eyes flutter shut. Only to reopen when Jaehyun’s head rises from the junction between your neck and shoulder to gaze at you.
You both exchange dopey smiles before his mouth moves to speak, “See, that wasn’t too bad,” he sneers.
Without even thinking about it, your eyes roll and you scoff at him. “We were this close to being put out on the street.”
Though still a bit weak, you’re able to shove your boyfriend off of you with a slither of his help. He lands in his initial position but not before situating his shorts back into place and assisting you by pulling down your nightgown.
“Yeah, but we weren’t.” He finalizes with a smirk, pulling your body flush against his. You decide you’re way too exhausted to bicker with him, mumbling something to the tune of whatever.
© jigueminunbich ‘24
#nct smut#nct 127 smut#jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun smut#nct jaehyun x reader#nct 127 fanfic#nct fanfic
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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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Sweethearts and Sweet Dreams <3
“Nothin’?”
“Mhm.”
“Whats behind your back then?”
You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.” (6.4k words)
tags!! - 18+ modern au! Husband! Joel Miller, Wife! Reader, you guys are happy and in love!, mutual obsession if u squint, lots of exposition im so freaking sorry, pervert Joel if u squint, praise kink joel if you squint, dumbification if you squint, written for those with daddy issues lowkeeyyyyy, written with game joel in mind but could be hbo joel no problem!, lowk i combined the two in my mind, mentions of shy old man joel, housewife! reader (by choice), unspecified age gap but reader is like. thirty? and joels Like...55??, talk about joel taking medication for his anxiety, p in v sex, dirty talk, public sex, outdoor sex, joel has a kink for dresses because i said so? service top joel if you squint, pet names, a pinch of jealousy and possessiveness for fun, playful banter, mentions of maria and tommy and their baby with a made up name Lol, mentions of ellie and sarah (rip), mentions of readers past abusive relationships, talk about joel struggling with substance abuse/addiction and being hospitalized.....Im sure u can theorize why </3, lots of lore ill get into in another fic MAYBE *smirks*, flip flop in perspective, sometimes showing what joel is thinking or what reader is thinking blah blah
authors notes!! - hi there!!! im mocha and this is my first joel fic ever + my first fic posted to tumblr!! im really nervous cuz i havent written anything in months and ive never written joel before so please let me know if you like it!! id love to write more of this au for u guys if theres a demand for it...Thank u for reading!! also barely proof read im ngl. ive been staring at this fic all day im sick of itttt. p.s i dont usually write smut i also kinda do idfk Is this bad or am i tweaking
You step out of the house, morning sun soaking into the roots of your hair and the driveway beneath your feet. Theres a package youve been waiting for.
You cant contain your grin as you wiggle it out of the hot prison that is your mailbox.
“What the hell are you doin’ out there barefoot?” Joel chastises you from the front door, leaning his elbow on the frame. Joel, your lovely husband of two years. Been together for five. And because of how hard he works, you have the privilege of being a stay at home wife. Some people think that sort of life is stifling, but youve never felt so free. No more jobs you hate, no more financial struggles. Just you, Joel, and your cat, Cement. He likes to pretend it isnt a totally hilarious name for a pet.
You were his first relationship in almost a decade, so it was a lot of work helping him unpack his anxieties about dating, and a lot of work for you to feel safe and unafraid. Honestly? Youve been mistreated by enough men to land you in the psychward.
But Joel never yells at you, he never breaks things when hes angry or threatens to hurt you. He might raise his voice every now and again, but its never because of something you did. Sometimes the stress of life is just too much.
He works hard, he loves his daughter- daughters- and he would do anything to keep you happy. Whatever you say goes, he says. Even now, you hardly argue. Of course you have disagreements, or off days thatd lead to one of you being especially moody, but the both of you do your best to communicate.
Behind that rough exterior, is someone who just wants to be needed.
You first met Joel at a youth center you volunteered at, he taught guitar, you taught arts and crafts. Joel says it was your smile and sense of humor that charmed him. It was his singing and southern accent for you.
Your favorite thing about Joel is how soft he gets around you. He says its because you make it easy to be soft.
Joel was a shy lover at first. He would get nervous just kissing you, or holding your hand. While most people become intimate very early on in their relationship, you and Joel didnt do anything sexual for the first five months of you dated. Sure, you almost did, plenty of times, but he would get so overwhelmed and cut things short. You broke two of your vibrators during this era of your relationship. Embarassing.
You remember your first time very vividly. Joel had worked back to back doubles trying to meet a deadline, and on the final day, after having barely spoken to you for almost a week, you had shown up to his house, unannounced. You were wringing water out of your jacket when he swung the door open.
“How-” Joel blinks a few times, stepping forward to examine the rainfall. “How long you been out here?”
“Not that long,” You lie and pick up the container you brought off the porch chair. Part of you had a hard time mustering up the courage to even knock on the door. Droplets of water cascade down your chin. “Hi, sorry. I know youre tired.”
He shakes his head, voice soft and warm. “S’fine. Now c’mon, youre gonna get sick.”
Youre seated at the little dining table next to the kitchen now, trying to let the sound of the rainfall ease your nerves.
Joel was quick to grab you a towel, and does the honors of drying your face and hair with it. “Why didnt you jus’ call me? Woulda gotten out of the shower faster if i knew you were gettin’ soaked out there like this.”
“I dunno, sorry.”
“An’ whatd i tell you about apologizin’ all the time?”
“Sor- Uh. Right. Okay.” You tighten your jaw. No more.
Joel moves behind you, now squeezing water out the ends of your hair. “Whas’ that?”
“Oh!-” You peel back the lid, showing it to him. “Old fashion cake donuts are your favorite right? I remember you saying you liked eating them with your coffee in the mornings so…I made these. Youve been working a lot lately and I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Joel gingerly grasps the container from your hands, looking into it. Theyre a warm golden brown, outside evenly fried, and the sweet scent of them hits his nose right away.
“I was just gonna leave them on the doorstep and call you to tell you they were there, but I wanted to see you.”
His adam's apple bobs as he swallows the dryness in his throat. Youre too good for him.
“Thank you very much.” He presses a kiss to your damp hair. “Now, lets get you into some dry clothes.”
Joel gives you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to keep you modest while your clothes wash and dry.
You wait patiently on his bed for the hot chocolate he promised you before you showered. Theres nothing to watch on the tv, so you just turn it off and reach for the lamp on his nightstand instead.
He comes in quietly, and sets the mug down beside the lamp. You finally come into focus, clear as day even under the low lighting.
“You uh.. You look nice.”
You blink. “I look nice?”
“In my shirt.”
That gets a smile out of you.
Joel tips his head towards the mug. “S’hot so, give it a few minutes. Dont want you burnin’ your mouth.”
You nod. “Okay.”
Hes sat beside you now and the two of you sit in silence for a while. Its not awkward, just the kind of silence where both of you want to say something but just.. Cant.
Joel unravels first. “Missed you, y’know. Just been tired.”
“I know.” Your voice wobbles, and Joels jaw tightens like hearing you sound so sad stings him. “I missed you, too.”
He slides his hand over yours, giving it a squeeze. Its okay.
“Hey Joel...Can I stay the night?”
“Sure. Id really like that.”
While you drink your hot chocolate, you and Joel catch up. You both talk about work, and about your new found interest in baking. Joel teases you about your lack of cooking skills, you do the same. Youre both useless.
When its time to climb into bed, neither of you can actually fall asleep. Joel rolls onto his side, away from you and the window. You follow, curling up like a little cat against his back. The sensation is nice for the both of you.
You speak up after a little while.
“Joel?”
“Mm.”
“Thank you for letting me stay.”
He scoffs, voice thick with exhaustion. “Like I'd force you to leave after you brought me such a nice present.”
You let out a little giggle, “So if i didnt, youd kick me out?”
“Id think ‘bout it.”
You gasp, gently shoving at his back. “Thats mean…!”
“S’really not.”
“Oh yeah? And what if I poisoned them?.”
“Then itd jus' be a regular day of your cookin’ then.” Joel reminds you, lighthearted. Too many times where you left the shells in your eggs or burnt toast or left the bacon on the pan for too long.
“You cant get mad at me for my dark past when you made a perfectly good sirloin taste like horse leather.”
“Ugh. Dont remind me. That was like putting a one-hundred dollar bill into a paper shredder. How do either of us stay alive again?”
“Uh. Digiorno?”
“Digiorno.”
After a few moments, Joels rolling over again, and hes guiding your head to settle against his chest. Your arms wrap around him, and his arms around you.
“Joel,” You whisper. He hums. “Im cold.”
“S’cause youre not wearin’ any pants.”
“And whos fault is that?”
“Still yours.”
“I was left out in the rain like a sad, sopping wet cat. One that was left in a box all alone with no family…” You pretend to sniffle. “Dont you feel bad for me?”
Joel sighs, not saying anything more except making sure the part of the comforter behind your back is tucked into your side so the cold air doesnt get in. When hes done, you do a little shimmy up his body, and throw your leg over his hip. Oh no.
Hes alert now. Very alert. Be normal. Joel hesitates, licking the dryness off his lips. “Uh. Feel better?”
“Mhm.” You push your face into his throat, cat-like, before settling down again. Hes like a radiator.
Actually scratch that, he cant be normal.
“Darlin’.” He rasps, patting your back to get your attention.
“Mm?”
“Your leg. Move it.”
A few beats pass. “Why?”
“Because…” Wow, he didnt think hed get this far. You shift forward and Joel lets out a quiet exhale through his nose, one that couldve been masked by the rain if you werent so close.
“Are you-”
“No! No. Its- Its not what you think-” He cant see your face in the darkness but he knows you feel the semi-hard struggling through the confines of his pants. Lame.
“Joel,” You say, soft. Your hands slide up his arm to cradle his jaw. Lightning flashes into the room, giving you a glimpse of Joels tight expression. He whispers your name back, just as soft.
“This is normal.”
Its normal, it is! Except for the fact that you guys havent had sex yet. The stress of being intimate is too much, kills his boner in a blink. The longer he waits the worse the anxiety gets.
“I-I know.”
You place a hand on his chest, feeling it pound away like crazy through all the soft muscle.
“Youve been taking your medication, right?”
Has he?
The silence of him thinking is proof enough. “Joel-”
He sighs, rubbing his eyes through the darkness .“I know, I know. Shoot, Im sorry. I just forget sometimes.”
“Its okay.” The pad of your thumb strokes the tops of his cheek, and you press a tender kiss to his mouth to soothe him. “...Want me to remind you?”
The softness of your lips has him a bit dazed. “Huh?”
“I said, do you want me to remind you? I can- You know, call you before you leave work. Make sure you take them.”
“You know I wake up at five-o-clock in the mornin’ , right?”
“I know.”
In a whisper, “Okay.”
Joels rough palms trail down your back and stop at the curve of your butt, finger tips delicately tracing the skin above your shorts. You shiver.
Barely above a whisper. “We dont have to go all the way.”
He says your name again, laced with worry. He doesnt want you to feel pressured.
You pull your leg off his hip and push yourself up, settling your hands on either side of Joels head.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yes-”
“-And you cant get all in your head about it. You stay here, with me. You stay present.”
“Okay, okay.” He nods, a bit defeated. “I will stay present.”
“When you...When you say you dont wanna have sex, what is it that youre thinking exactly? I know you said you just get really nervous but I feel like youre not being totally honest.”
Joel stays quiet, idly rubbing your sides. Maybe you are a cat. Just getting to feel any part of you is soothing. “I jus’ want you to feel good. ‘Fraid ill do somethin’ you dont like.”
“You cant assume how I feel, Joel. Being intimate.. It takes time to learn what the other person likes.”
He sighs. “I know.” Youre always right.
Adding on, “Like I said, we dont have to go all the way,” You lean further back, situating yourself on his hips. He lets out a shaky breath when he feels the pressure of your ass through his sweats.
“But, I want to start somewhere. I want to feel you.”
“Fuck- Um-” Hes shaking now, letting you grind your hips down onto him. Joel cant seem to control the way his hips instinctively push up to meet yours. Youre both becoming of a mess of little gasps and hot breaths and tiny whimpers already.
You hunch forward, guiding his hand under your your shirt- His shirt- letting him feel up the supple skin of your stomach, then the area where your ribs are, then your-
“And I want you to feel me,”
Surprisingly, you did actually go all the way that night.
Your sex life was a bit of a rocky start, but after Joel got over most of his anxiety, you learned quickly just how goddamn insatiable he was. Five years in and he still regularly makes you sore.
There are a couple things you learned about him and his sexual interests. He loves to take you in his truck, in your kitchen, in your bathroom, on your couch. Other, riskier places. Anywhere that isnt your bed apparently, not that he isnt fucking you there either.
Joel is handsy, so handsy infact it embarasses you to no end, especially when youre infront of others. Thats usually how it starts, too. First he kisses you, then gropes your hips and your ass, and the next thing you know, youre cumming on his fingers. Then hed bend you over, or get you on your back, or make you ride him. Is it really riding if hes just slamming up into you until your brain turns into mush?
He likes that too. Making you not think.
Youd be lying if you said its only ever him. Sleepy morning handjobs before work, whining to him over the phone and touching yourself to his voice, arching your back into him while you're washing dishes, sucking him off after hours in his office.
And while most men prefer lingerie or little costumes, Joel likes dresses. Dresses that are discreet so he can take you in the backyard when he comes home early and sees you gardening. Or when youre both at a friends house and hes had a little too much to drink and finds himself alone with you. Dresses that make it easy to play his favorite game with you. I touch you, and you make sure we dont get caught by being too loud. Joel really is the worst sometimes.
Now, you only ever wear pants when its cold, or to bed or sometimes when youre lounging, like today. Youre in some shorts and a tank top. Otherwise, its dresses all year round, usually retro styles or ones meant for spring. Joels not picky though, he loves any dress on you.
Even if you wear an extremely modest, white lacey sleep dress, looking like some kind of vintage ghost, the man would still keep you up all night. And he has. He said you looked like a princess. You guess you kind of did.
The entire thing is like an unspoken arrangement between you both. He doesnt tell you to wear them, you just do.
And he works hard to spoil you, so why not buy as many cute dresses as possible?
You got a cute dress today too, on the same day Joel has off. You think its going to be a new favorite of his.
The big polymailer stays hidden behind your back. Be casual. “Uh- Nothing!”
“Nothin’?”
“Mhm.”
“Whats behind your back then?”
You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.”
“Lemme see then. Show me your hands-”
“Hey, Mrs. Miller!”
Both you and Joel turn your heads to the voice, and only one of you has the energy to fake a a smile. Your neighbor is stopping in his driveway, having come back from a jog it looks.
“Hi, Lee.”
Joel really, really, really doesnt like Lee. You dont like him either, but youre not one to cause problems. Lee on the other hand, is. Hes a bit younger than you, and a lot younger than Joel. Hes one of those tech dudes with a massive ego, thinks that youll be swayed by his money and his “charm” and youth as if youre some sad housewife in need of saving. Gross.
And another thing, Lee doesnt even actually live here! Hes here ever so often to visit his dad between, you dont know, tech expos? You forget. Joel believes he started showing up more often to see you.
Youre walking towards the porch again. Joels looking especially unhappy to see him today, knuckles pulled taut into a fist. His lips stay pressed into a thin line, careful not to let anything slip out. He usually lets you do most of the talking, as much as it pains him.
Joels really not a fan of the way Lees eyes take a trip up your bare legs. Little shit.
“Out with no shoes again, Mrs. Miller?”
“You know me, Im uh- Im weird.”
“The weird ones do it best.” He smiles, all teeth. It gives you the creeps. His attention is on Joel now. Its like watching a puppy try to one up a wolf. “Right, Joel?”
“Uh huh.” Whatever that means.
“Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, Mrs. Miller.” Lee crosses into your driveway and you glance briefly at Joel, as if to make sure he isnt going to start growling at the other to stay away. Youre clutching the package to your chest now.
“Have you ever been to a support group for uh- you know, the spouses of addicts? I have a friend from work and shes really struggling.”
Lees tone is sugary sweet, but the fake kind you put in diet soda except that stuff is way better. Joel sighs from the door. You stand there, dumbfounded on the porch steps because what the fuck is he going on about.
You clear your throat, keeping your voice firm. “No. Ive never needed to.”
Joels voice cuts in like a knife. “Been clean for almost twenty years now.”
“Yeah but, you know,” He shrugs, squinting a bit under the morning sun. “Relapses happen.”
Joel and Lee are at a stand still, and the moment Joel lets the arm leaning on the frame drop to his side, you know youre in for a lot of trouble. You move quickly towards the door. “We have to get ready for a- uh- a thing? but Im sorry about your friend.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Miller. Im doing my best to support her.” And before he turns away, he just has to be slimy to you. “If you need someone to talk to, Im here for you.”
“No, that really wont be necess-”
Joels slinging a strong arm around you to yank you back inside before shutting the door.
“Motherfucker,” He hisses to himself, stomping through the walkway and into the kitchen.
“How-” You rub your eyes, letting them adjust to the light inside of the house. You put the package down onto the bar counter that opens up the kitchen and follow Joel to the fridge. “How does he know?? I thought-”
“Been living in this house for decades now,” His expression is tight, brows knitted together while he chugs a bottle of water. “People talk. ‘Specially if I'm being rolled into an ambulance on more than one occasion.” Joel frowns. “Fuck- I shoulda punched him in the fuckin’ face- Do you see how hard he tries so hard to flirt with you infront’a me?”
“I know, love. I was there.” You take the bottle from his hand and set it to the side, then wrap your arms around him. “Try not to let it get to you okay?”
Joel sighs into your hair, giving your body a squeeze. “I know, I know, but jus’ hearin’ him tryin’ta use my baggage to make a pass at you…S’fuckin’ evil.”
“I agree, but I dont want his blood on the driveway.”
“So get it on his driveway instead, got it.”
You giggle and tip your head up to kiss him. The tension eases from Joels shoulders, and he cups your cheeks, letting his worries melt away into your mouth. When the pads of his fingers start to slide under your tank top, youre leaning back. Youll be here for a while if this goes any further.
Joel mindlessly chases your lips, looking a bit pouty now that its over.
“Im gonna start getting ready for the barbecue, okay?”
“This early?”
“I like being punctual.”
“My brother wont give a damn if were late.” He noses your jaw, pressing a kiss here and there. Your knees are beginning to feel weak. The bastard is trying to distract you.
“But I do. The farmers market opened today, and I promised Maria I'd get her fresh strawberries before we got there, remember?”
“Alright, alright.” He grumbles into your shoulder.
Joel lets you go, watching you round the bar counter to get your package and disappear upstairs.
-
Ever since you came down to a freshly showered Joel, and got into the car with the gift bags you prepared for Maria and Tommy, Hes been staring at you. One wrong move and the drools gonna start pouring out of his mouth.
Your hair is in its relatively natural state, freshly washed and shiny from the oil you put in it. You put on some light makeup, and went a bit heavy handed on the blush to look sunkissed, and topped it off with a flavored lip gloss Joel especially enjoys.
Now, the dress. Its a pink floral mid-length dress, with a low cut sweetheart neckline and a corset style backing to cinch your waist and push out your chest. The material is thick and pretty, and there are two other layers under the skirt to keep its shape. You have on a pair of little pink pumps with little bows to match.
The drive to the farmers market is fairly peaceful, the windows are half down and theres music playing at low volume on the radio. You and Joel have different tastes in music, but one genre you can always agree on is alternative rock.
The weathers beautiful, sun high in the sky, and its not too hot or humid. The day really is perfect. Youre gonna soak up some sun when youre at the barbecue. Hopefully, they made lemonade again too.
Joel has been mostly quiet throughout your shopping. While it would worry some, youve been with him long enough to know that he just has a lot on his mind. What hes thinking about? Maybe youll learn when you make it back home at the end of the day.
You gasp, strolling through the grass to a stand with a mountain of apples. Granny smith, Macintosh, Pink Ladys, Honeycrisp, the works. He grunts, trying to keep the things that are already in your basket steady. You came for strawberries and are going to leave with much more than that.
Joel nudges you softly. “Remember, this is quality stuff, meaning itll go bad faster. Dont get too much.”
“Okay, got it.” You beam, and then begin inspecting the Pink Lady apples first, trying to find the ones with the best color. He keeps the basket within reach so you can drop your picks in.
"These were Sarahs favorites."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, it was funny 'cause we started arguin' over these or Red Delicious. I think Red Delicious is better."
"Thats so cute! Hmm. Should we get one for her? A Pink Lady?"
"Uh," He thinks on it for a moment, unsure, but the smile on your face helps him make a decision. "Sure, why not."
You drop two perfect Pink Ladys into the basket, moving onto the next pile.
“Hey, Joel.” You grin, holding out a wrinkled granny smith apple. “This one looks like you”
“Ha ha.” He deadpans, and grabs it from you to put back. In turn, hes reaching for the runt of the pile. A pathetically small one sitting near the bottom. “Now this one looks like you.”
“Does not!”
“Does too.”
The next stand has golden kiwis, and youre practically dragging Joel forward to try them. You ask for one, and the man at the stand slices it into halves, giving you a plastic spoon to go with.
You let Joel smell it first. “S’good.”
“Lets see if it tastes good.”
You sink your spoon into it, humming when you see how soft and easy it is to scoop out. In your mouth it goes!
Its tastes sweet, a bit mango-y and fucking delicious. You bounce in place, spoon feeding Joel next. “Oh yeah,” He smiles, smacking his lips a bit to really let the taste settle on his tongue. “Were takin’ some of these.”
You take one, then two, then three and four then five and as you reach for the sixth one, Joels stopping you with a gentle hand.
“Darlin’.”
“Right.”
For the next few stands its just you and Joel trying various kinds of fruit. Starfruit, blueberries, some mangos, and then youre going back to the truck.
“I think my favorites were the mangos and golden kiwis. I hope Maria and Tommy have enough space in their fridge for all of this.”
“They moved into a bigger house, I reckon their fridge s’probably bigger, too.”
“What time is it?”
You let go of Joels arm so he can switch the basket from one hand to the other.
“‘Bout…” Hes squinting at his watch. “12:34 in the afternoon.”
“Oh! Guess we got the shopping done sooner than I expected. Hmm. Should we stop somewhere in the mean time?-" You snap your finger when you remember something. "They opened up this cafe that has cats in it! We can drink coffee and play with them for bit! The next fourty-five minutes will go by super fast."
“Youre gonna make Cement jealous.”
You bat your hand dismissively. “Hes not gonna caaare.”
“Oh yes he will. And remind me again why we named our cat Cement?
“Uh, we were both drunk and had gotten him the day before without a name picked out?”
“A whole year later and we still kept it. Worst pet owners ever.” Joel chuckles, opening the passenger door for you like he always does.
“Thank you.”
“Mhm.”
The giant basket of fruit goes into the back seat next to the gift bags before Joel slots himself into the drivers seat.
You fumble with the radio a bit, trying to see what else is on but ultimately landing back on your preferred station. Theyve been playing a lot of Linkin Park recently. Hell yeah. Joel buckles himself in at last, and pulls out of the parking lot.
“Marias gonna teach me how to make baked chicken,” You hum, gazing outside the window.
“You sure youre not jus’ unteachable?”
“Ha ha,” You lightly shove his shoulder, making him smile. “I thought you loved the meat sauce pasta I learned how to make.”
He settles into his seat more comfortably at the stop light, elbow rested on the window. “Got me with that one. Think I like ground turkey over beef, though.”
“Yeah? Me too. The beef tastes better but the turkey is lighter. Stops me from feeling all sick.”
“Agreed.”
Youre looking out the windshield now. Where did all the buildings go? Youre out of the city.
“Uh, Joel?”
“Mm?”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere to kill time.”
“Yeah but where?”
“Youll see.”
Your brows pinch together. “I see a whole lot of nothing except for trees."
“Almost there.”
Joel makes a hasty left turn onto some campgrounds. Your stomach starts to twist into excited knots. Is he gonna show you a baby deer or something? Bunnies? He used to be a park ranger for this area, and would tell you stories about all sorts of baby animals hed run into.
The car comes to a stop, and he turns the engine off. Silence.
“So…Were out in the woods to kill time?”
“Mhm.” Joel unbuckles his seat belt and twists into the back to grab the spare jacket he usually keeps there, then gets out of the truck and comes around the back to open the door for you.
He holds your hand to help you get down from the passenger side, and as soon as both of your shoes hit the ground Joel is on you.
You dont know where your hands should go, youve kissed Joel a thousand times and yet you still get so flustered when he catches you by surprise. You keep your hands on his shoulders for now, letting him press wet kisses to your neck and shoulder.
“This is new right? The dress?” He gives your ass an appreciative squeeze through the fabric. “Thought you looked so pretty when you came down stairs in it.”
Your heads spinning. Something about your dress?
“Woulda been okay if you let me have you earlier.” He pulls away, examining your flushed face cradled by his hand. Every part of you just fits so well in his palms. “Then I thought, why not have you now? We got time to spare.”
“Joel- We- Someone could see us-” You sputter, and Joels already shaking his head with a knowing smirk. He pulls you around to the bed of the truck, popping it open, only pausing to spread open the jacket he grabbed, just having just thrown it in there when he came around to get you.
“No ones gonna come lookin’ for us.” He turns you around, pushing you down onto your front. “As long as youre quiet.”
Fuck. You really hate this game. At least, you like to tell yourself that.
Blood rushes to your ears while Joels rough palms lift up the skirt of your dress, exposing your ass and thighs to the cool air. He whistles from behind you.
“Red lace panties?” His fingers dont shy away from tracing along the fabric covering your cunt. “This new too?”
You crane your neck over your shoulder to look at his face. “Uh.. Surprise?”
Joels smiling now, fingers dipping under the lace. “Thas' awfully sweet of you.”
His touch slips and slides around your growing wetness, then trails down to your clit. Your voice wobbles a bit and fuck- fuck hes going too fast. “Joel- Ah-” You whimper and try to push yourself up to look at him but his hand is steady on your spine, keeping you down.
Smug, “Go on, sweetheart. Keep sayin’ my name. Jus’ like that.”
A whine escapes you when he pulls away, “Nooo.” You push your ass back, as if to entice him. You succeed, because hes skipped his usual routine of fucking you with his hands and is now unbuckling his belt.
Joel rolls you onto your back, and peels your underwear all the way off, bunching it up and shoving it into his back pocket. Your face burns just watching him.
“Think i'll hold onto these for a lil’ while.”
His hands push the back of your knees towards your chest, exposing your heat. Youll never get used to the way he just seems so interested just watching your cunt squeeze around nothing.
“Thats-” You swallow, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. "Joel.”
“Relax." He coos, "Seen it a thousand times already, and ill be seein' it a thousand more. Get used to it, honey.”
Your attention flickers down to where his dick is about to meet your entrance. Joels nudging you down onto your back again and pulling the top of your dress down to expose your chest. Its when youre distracted that he actually moves to push himself in.
Both of you groan together, and Joel could never get bored of fucking you, not when your cunt just pulses around him everytime hes inside you.
Joel wastes no time fucking you once he eases all the way inside. Youre trying your best to keep quiet. Shit is no easy task. Its like Joel is trying to get you guys arrested.
He props himself up with a hand near your head, and lets the other keep one of your legs pinned open. The moans start to claw out of your throat. “Joel- Joel-”
“Shh. Thas’ enough.” He growls through his teeth, fucking you harder. “Youre gonna- Gh- Get us caught-”
Something rustles between the trees, making you both freeze. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching Joel straighten up to look around.
After a few seconds of squinting, Joel can see a few foxes moving about through the trees. Thank fuck. His shoulders visibly relax.
Hushed, “E-Everything okay?”
“Yeah, jus’ some animals.”
And like that, hes back to it. His dick is going to make your eyes permanently stay rolled into your head.
Joel is always just so handsome when hes pounding into you. His forehead gets shiny with sweat, and his jaw is tight from clenching his teeth, keeping himself quiet so he can focus on your moans. His face is noticeably redder against his usual farmers tan too. Really, hes just so attractive.
A flurry of yes and harder and fuck spills out of your mouth and into your palms. Not too loud, you try to remind yourself.
“Joel- S’too much-”
“Nah, thas’ not it.” He huffs, humorous. “You can take it. Y'always do. In fact, you love gettin’ your cunt bullied by me, aint that right?” As if to get his point across, he thrust in all the way to the hilt, making you keen. You forgot how to breathe, lungs drawing tight in your chest.
"Fuck," You manage to squeeze out.
Your palms push weakly at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself somehow. His head drops to the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.
“You good?” He checks in, breath hot on your skin. As if your crying isnt enough.
“So g-good, Joel- Fuck- Youre so good.”
With a little nod, Joels pushing himself up, switching to slow and deep strokes, really digging himself into you, and trying to find that spot he likes to call home.
He massages your chest, then squeezes your sides and your hips and finally, his thumb finds your clit. Immediately, you jolt.
“Oh fuck-”
“Quiet.” And he says it to keep the charade going, even though his favorite thing is hearing your sobs.
His thumb rubbing incessantly against your that sweet little nub of yours. You choke, and Joels chuckling, watching the way you squirm, body not knowing whether it should lean into his touch because its too good or away because its too much.
It starts with this firey feeling under the pad of his thumb, then deep inside your stuffed cunt. Youre going to cum.
Your hands fly to your mouth again, and you get all wide eyed from the sensation. Its cute. Your muscles pull taut, legs locking around Joels hips. Youre wailing into your palm when it happens.
“Good girl,” His voice soothes you through it. “Very good.”
He pets away the fly aways sticking to your sweaty face when its over. Your eyes drop shut while you catch your breath.
Joels moving again now. He rolls his hips a few times, and thumb is building the foundation of another orgasm in you. Youre shaking badly.
Your words slur too, “Cant- Too soon- Joel- Joel-”
“Another one.” Joel says firmly, but breathless.
Youre gasping, not sure where to focus your eyes. The trees around you look like theyre spinning. Your attention is back on Joel, whos looking rather satisfied watching you squirm and cry. If thats how wants to play, then fine.
Your hands slide up Joels biceps, and rests on the nap of his neck to bring him down. “Juh-Joel,” You pant, cradling his face with both hands. “Youre so good- The best-”
Oh, Joel likes that one, you can tell by the way he looks away briefly. Shyness. Excitement runs up your spine. Joel loves being told hes doing well.
“You are- Nghh-” You swallow the drool in your mouth, trying to get the words out clearly. “The best husband I could ever ask for.”
Joel wheezes, head dropping into the curve of your shoulder. “Please.”
“S’true,” You nod rapidly, fingers curling into his hair. “Youre so good to me and-and youre mine and- Joel- Im yours.”
“Jesus-” He groans, soaking up the feeling of you pressing kisses to his face and up his jaw.
“Hhah- No one else can have me, okay? No one- Not even-”
The name doesnt even come out of your mouth before Joels coming to a stop to slip his arms all the way around your middle. With the new leverage he has on your body, hes drilling his way into you. You fucking squeal, rules now long forgotten. Youre a useless ragdoll in his arms and he wouldnt have it any other way.
Your lips are shiny with spit and left over lip gloss, and he can still taste the mintiness in his tongue. Every now and again your eyes drop shut, but his dick just punches into your guts a little harder. Look at me.
Your brain is mush, just the way he likes it, and youre perfectly pliant in his arms, babbling over how good you feel. Hes kisses along the valley of your breasts now, stopping to suck the flesh of your nipples.
Youre just so pretty. Even when you have bedhead, or youre snotty from a cold, or youre all dirty from working in the garden youre still so pretty. Including now, all sweaty with you lipgloss all smudged and your mascara starting to run. Youre perfect.
Joel grunts loud, jaw clenched tight as he gets lost in the feeling of your insides. His perfect little wife.
When he cums, hes doubling over with a loud grunt, getting a few last thrusts in before his spent floods your cunt.
Youre blinking away your tears, now watching the clouds inch along the sky. It really is a beautiful day. You pet Joels sweaty hair, and kiss the side of his temple. Your core throbs faintly. Jesus, he did a number on you.
“Love,” You say softly, patting his back.
“Mm?”
“Get up.” Another pat. “Youre squishing me.”
Joel backs off to buckle himself up, but you stay seated to catch your breath and adjust your dress. At least it didnt get ripped during all the… Commotion. Not like last time.
“I need my underwear back.”
“Nope,”
“Joel.”
He kisses the center of your forehead and helps you down from the bed and into the passenger seat instead. “Told you i'm keepin’ ‘em.”
You sputter, “I cant go to barbecue commando!”
“Sure you can.” He pops open the glove compartment and gets out some tissues, hand snaking under your dress again to clean you. You sigh softly at the sensation.
“Youre the worst.”
“I am indeed the worst.” Joel pulls the seatbelt over your chest and clicks it in. “You can tell me all about it on the way to Tommys.”
#joel miller#the last of us#hbo joel miller#the last of us part 1#the last of us season one#tlou#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel miller x you#fanfic#mocha writes#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal#modern au#smut fic#might cross post to ao3 idk...#pleeaaaase tell me if u guys like this#glaze me glaze me glaze me#Lie 2 me and say u love it...
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falling in love at first sight (x3)
a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!
word count: 6.3k
tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol
HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.
but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.
he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.
which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.
that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.
needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.
"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.
something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.
ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -
dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.
you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.
fuck that.
dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.
"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"
"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.
"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.
but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"
the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.
"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.
it was official: han dongmin was in love.
"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.
"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"
what was the answer that would keep you here longer?
"yes?"
"are you asking me or telling me?"
"telling?"
"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.
until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.
"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.
dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.
"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,
"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.
"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.
you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.
"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.
dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.
"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."
"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?
"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.
"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.
it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.
"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.
"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.
"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.
"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.
"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.
god was real.
dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.
"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.
technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.
"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.
"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"
you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.
"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."
he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.
you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.
"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.
you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.
although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.
he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.
it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.
+++
turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.
instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.
dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.
you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.
the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.
so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.
your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.
at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.
dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.
he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.
"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."
dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.
"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!
he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.
"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.
you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.
(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)
"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.
"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"
you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.
it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.
you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.
"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"
even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.
"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.
before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.
you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.
"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.
you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.
"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."
dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"
you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.
"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."
now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.
"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.
you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."
you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"
dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"
you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."
"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.
good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?
+++
"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.
dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.
"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.
"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"
"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.
park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.
"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.
"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."
"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."
dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"
sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."
("you were there when that happened?")
("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")
("oh. sorry man.")
"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.
"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.
dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.
"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.
he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).
"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"
+++
dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.
he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.
he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.
the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.
instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.
as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.
"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.
he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.
dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.
of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.
he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.
thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.
"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.
"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.
"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"
dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."
your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."
"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?
"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"
"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."
you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.
"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.
"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.
"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."
"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.
"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.
"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.
"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.
"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.
"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."
"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.
"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"
"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.
"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?
"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.
after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?
"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"
"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."
"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"
"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."
"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."
+++
freshman year, spring semester.
"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.
"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."
"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."
"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.
"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."
"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."
freshman year, fall semester.
"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.
"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."
"get your mind out of the gutter!"
"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."
"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"
"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."
"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"
"i'll be whatever you want me to be."
#jnnul#boynextdoor#bnd x reader#taesan x reader#bnd imagines#bnd fluff#taesan#bonedo#taesan fluff#taesan boynextdoor#taesan imagines#taesan bnd#bnd fic#boynextdoor fic#boynextdoor imagines
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professor pretty | charles xavier
Summary: You duck into a pub to escape a creep. Just when you've lost hope that you'll get to go home at all, a pretty-faced professor comes to your rescue.
Pairing: young!Charles Xavier x gn!reader
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings/tags: creepy guy intimidating reader, charles to the rescue, flirting, drinking, professor!reader, i tried to make it accurate to an english university and make him English but if there's any mistakes feel free to lmk.
this is a modern au in that movie canon is the same but they have cellphones here bc it's easier lol
the divider
There’s a man at the back of the pub, in a scary leather jacket and combat boots, and he won’t stop staring at you.
Instinct tells you that he’s not going to let you leave either.
You noticed him after you left the school. That’s what first pushed you into this pub across from the university. Now you’re parked on a stool. You really want to go home, but instead you’re sticking close to the frazzled barman who’s managing about thirty first years who are just jazzed about the new school year.
You’ve ordered a pint, even though you’re not really a beer drinker, but when in Rome and all that. You’ve had about two sips.
You sneak a look over your shoulder. The man is still there. Fuck.
“Could I have another pint, please? Cheers.” A man leans against the bar top, hand running through his light brown hair as if on instinct. You’ve seen him once this week, at the university, when you were trying to get your own classroom set up for the term.
You don’t know his name or what he teaches, but you do know that he likes the poofy-haired, off-duty secretary in the red dress that came in about an hour earlier. And she seemed to like him back. You’re surprised he’s still here.
You rest your chin in your hand, watching detachedly as he orders. He’s got a nice smile and even nicer manners. Posh. Probably a jerk.
“Hello.”
You look up. Professor Pretty Boy is standing closer to you, blue eyes warm. His smile fades as you look at him.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, brows knitting in concern.
You sigh. “Yeah, great.”
The last thing you need is another guy screwing up your night. Even if this one is considerably better looking.
He rests his elbow against the bar top and pushes his finger against his temple.
“Is someone bothering you?” he asks after a moment.
Your eyes widen. “How did you–?”
“I recognize the look. Fella in the corner, yeah?”
His words make you tense. You sneak a look back. The man is still there, though he’s now on the phone.
“I think he’s going to follow me home if I try to leave,” you whisper.
His eyes soften in concern. You watch him watch you. Then he seems to make a decision.
“I’ll be right back. Stay here, alright?”
He heads straight for the creep. You watch, slack-jawed, as your unsuspecting knight in a crisp, white button-up says a couple words to the man. Then they go outside.
You turn around, guilt washing over you. What if he gets hurt?
Well, so what, says another part of you, it’s not like you told him to confront the guy.
But your knight returns in thirty seconds, every hair in place. He gracefully slides onto the stool next to you and takes a gulp of beer. Foam gathers on his upper lip. You can’t help your disbelieving smile.
“You’ve got…” You gesture to your mouth.
“Ah.” He takes a napkin and wipes his mouth, avoiding your gaze. Is he flustered?
“There’s just no dignified way to drink a pint, I’ve learned,” he says, clearing his throat. He smiles at you, less rakish and more bashful.
“How did you do that?” you ask. “He must’ve been there for half an hour.”
“Hm? Ah, well, I politely explained that that sort of behavior isn’t tolerated here, and that I was very happy to call the police.”
Your brows rise. “Wow. He seemed determined to stay.”
“I can be very persuasive, I’ve been told. Oh! How rude of me.” He sticks out his hand. “My name is Charles. Charles Xavier.”
You shake his hand. It’s cool and soft. You tell him your name. He repeats it softly.
“It’s very nice to meet you, though I wish we’d met through better circumstances,” Charles says.
You nod. “Me too. But thank you, seriously.”
“No thanks necessary. Men should let others live in peace.”
“Words of the century,” you say, raising your glass.
“Cheers,” Charles says, clinking your glasses together.
You both take a drink. You’re considerably more relaxed. And no, you’re not really Professor Xavier’s type, but you like the company. At least for tonight.
“So, are you visiting?” he asks. “Pardon my saying, but you don’t sound…”
“Like you?” You playfully raise an eyebrow.
His eyes widen. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ve only been here a week, actually. I took a teaching position at the university.”
“You don’t say! I teach here too. What are you teaching? Wait, no, let me guess…”
Charles squints in concentration, putting his hand to his forehead. “Hmm… ah! Women’s literature?”
You shake your head. “You’re on a roll, seriously. I’m in awe.”
Charles waves you off. “You’re too kind. I’m just perceptive.”
And there’s a pinch of something in your gut, something that tells you that it’s more than good perception. But you don’t detect any malice in Charles. In fact, you feel nothing but kindness and genuine interest emanating from his gaze.
“Well, let’s see if you’ll go two for two. What author am I teaching first?”
Charles smiles at you knowingly, and you’re sure he’s about to say it.
“Oh, I haven’t a clue. Hmm… Ms. Austen?”
You laugh. “No, I’m very sure that the students at Pembroke have gotten their fill of Austen in their A-levels. Do you give up?”
He grins. “Yes, I do. Tell me all about it, please.”
“I didn’t peg you for a quitter, Charles.”
“I know when I’m beat,” he says softly, and the tips of his fingers touch yours.
To your surprise, you don’t pull away, even though getting involved with a professor your first week would be bad.
But there’s something magnetic about him.
“I was thinking I’d teach The Haunting of Hill House.”
Charles raises his brows. “Horror? My, my. Quite a first impression. I like it.”
“Got to make it memorable, don’t I?”
“I don’t think you’ll have trouble with that,” he says. Your face warms under his incessant charm. “You’ll get on fine here. I’ve been teaching for a few years. My sister keeps pushing me to find a place in America, but I have a hard time letting go of the familiar.”
“I bet you’re popular here,” you say, and Charles immediately catches onto your meaning.
“Heh, well…” Charles purses his lips mischievously. “Ahem. I try to make the course engaging, especially since I teach graduate courses. But I’m a homebody, truly. It’s my sister who pulls me out here, and one thing leads to another, and I get to meet lovely new lecturers with impeccable literary taste.”
You turn and focus on your all but abandoned beer, tracing shapes into the condensation and hoping you’ll get some reserve back.
“Does this charming routine work on everyone?”
Charles laughs. “Actually, my routine is something like, um…”
He leans in, half-lidded. “I have all the time in the world for a darling with the TCHH gene. You would call it curly hair, I call it a mutation. A most alluring mutation, mind you—you see, mutations are what took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form of reproductive life on the planet. And being that it’s my field of study, and I take my studies very seriously, I would love to explore what other genetic wonders you’ve been gifted with.”
It’s quiet for several moments. Then you begin to giggle. Charles schools his expression, feigning indignance.
“And what’s so funny?”
“You’re not serious,” you say. “Does that really work?”
“I don’t know why you’re laughing—it has a nine out of ten success rate,” Charles says, sticking his nose up. “People like genetic facts.”
“I think they like your pretty face more than the facts, Professor.”
You wince as you realize what you’ve said. Charles pounces immediately.
“Apologies, I can’t hear you very well in this loud pub… did you say my face is pretty?”
“Oh, put a sock in it,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”
That draws a full laugh from him, face scrunching in delight. You smile back, shaking your head.
You check your phone out of habit, feeling like it’s been a long time and… holy hell! 11:46. You curse, scraping your stool back.
“Dammit, dammit. I’ve got a lecture tomorrow morning! I’m so sorry, Charles, I have to go.”
You hadn’t meant to stay so long, but the stranger had frightened you, and then you’d met Charles, and…
But you stop short upon seeing the door because of the terrifying thought of the stranger waiting outside for you.
Charles must sense your hesitance. “I can drive you home.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m only a ten minute walk away,” you say, but it’s weak.
He puts a hand on your back. The touch is fleeting, but he’s warm through your shirt.
“Then I’ll walk with you. I love walking. And the rain will come soon—got to take advantage of clear nights.”
You look at him. He already has his coat. You suddenly remember the woman he’d followed to the back table.
“Are you sure? Didn’t you have a…”
“She wasn’t interested,” Charles says, back to his perceptive ways. His gaze is fond. “I’d rather walk with you, anyway.”
“You’ve already charmed me, Charles,” you say as he walks you out of the pub.
“No charm,” he says simply, holding the door for you. “Just being honest, darling.”
You feel infinitely better on the way home. Charles keeps your spirits high, providing you with endless advice and assurances for your new job.
You go up the steps, taking out your key to the flat.
“Look, um…”
You stop and turn. Charles follows you up. He starts to touch your arm, then stops. He straightens his tie instead.
“If you see that man again, or someone like him. Someone who doesn’t look right. Promise you’ll tell me, alright? You can reach me on my mobile any time.”
He hands you a card. Charles Xavier, Mutant Expert. Huh.
You look at him, fear returning. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
Charles shakes his head. “No, he won’t bother you. But if… I don’t know. Never mind. No, I’m worrying you. I’m just making you paranoid. Forget that.”
You shrug. “You’re keeping me safe. I like that.”
Charles chews the inside of his lip for a second. Then he leans in and kisses your cheek. You inhale sharply.
His thumb lingers on your jaw before he pulls away completely.
“Good night,” he says, pupils dilated in the dim light.
“Good night, Charles. Thank you.”
“Any time. And if you just want to go for a pint, that number isn’t just for emergencies.”
“Are you that sure of yourself?” you ask, hand on your hip.
“No.” He smirks. “I just happen to be very perceptive.”
#charles xavier x reader#charles xavier x you#professor x x reader#charles xavier imagine#charles xavier fanfiction#xmen fanfiction#xmen x you#xmen x reader#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction
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