#and the dream Rei never knew he had
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I introduced a friend to buddy daddies who is just a casual watcher, doesn't ship, doesn't invest or over-analyze.
His take on the ending: queer platonic partners. Not in those words, because he wasn't familiar with the term (and loved it, after I explained). But what amazed me is that unlike us who over analyze everything, this guy didn't even notice Rei's awkwardness in the family photo, did not even remember the line about the drinking with women until I brought it up. Because to a casual watcher, that is hardly relevant.
He had some gripes about other things, plot wise, but as far as Kazurei is concerned, it was a happy ending, but forgettable.
Forgettable.
And that is the wonderful thing about it. Because their ending IS forgettable. It is NORMAL. They are just a normal family now. All they wanted in life! To be a normal fucking family where they are not fearing for their lives and can go to the beach and take family photos to hang on the fridge.
A forgettable ending, fuck. I love this for them.
#Kazuki would cry at being called forgettable#and then he would cry again realizing how forgettable and mundane his life now is#literally his dream come true#and the dream Rei never knew he had#he told his father it may be mundane to you but it is everything to me#I'm getting emotional again#buddy daddies#buddy daddy spoilers#kazurei
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homewrecker!
★ pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader x lee minho part two
✦summary: The summer you thought would be boring, starts to become entertaining once you meet two beautiful mature men with whom you look forward to having fun for a while, Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Minho, whose perfect lives with wives and children become entangled in their own downfall as they fail to control themselves with your sweet and wicked game of seduction.
♡ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, bit angst, dilf hyunjin & minho, sub!hyunjin, dom!miho, cheating, age gap, sugar daddy, oral sex, masturbation, fingering, grinding, pet names (some dreg), kinks: breeding, daddy, unprotected sex, creampie, mention of spanking, slapping.
₊ ⊹ word count: 17.7k
masterlist - taglist ⭑.ᐟ
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ NOTES: nerd hyunjin from mountains mv as main inspo of his looks!!
miniplaylist: she by harry styles / cola by lana del rey / homewrecker by marina / older by isabel larosa
a/n: thinking about nerdy dilf hyunjin since this post of mine hehe & added minho for more fun lol EDIT: this extended too much, sorry, so I decided to split it in a part 2♡
divider by youre-ackermine
Everything started in that summer, a messy and unforgettable summer where you explored lands of desire, madness, passion, and lust.
You never thought spending the summer at your older sister’s house with her newly formed family would be so much fun, you were in paradise, surrounded by attractive mature men who lost their sanity with your slightest affection and youth; Hwang Hyunjin as a private tutor, Lee Minho as your neighbor, two men whose mid-life crisis went off in a war against themselves by not knowing how to control themselves with your sweet and perverse game of flirting, which you were not going to stop until you obtained your goal, no matter obstacles in the way, like their perfect lives, families and wives, you just wanted to have some fun. You never took it seriously, just some good sex, until the circumstances changed, sometimes not always for good reasons…
It all started, to be exact, on a Friday afternoon when your older sister picked you up from one of your friend’s house, where you stayed after leaving your college dorm for the summer. To be honest, you had two options: go to your parents’ house in your small town for the break, where you would be forced to take any job, or spend it at your sister’s big new house with her very well-behaved 7-year-old stepson and her husband, who was offering you a chance to visit his workplace sometimes, which was more than a dream since Mr. Bahng was a well-known and respected prosecutor and would feed your knowledge in your degree. The second option sounded pretty good for you, plus you’d be very useful to Missy, your sister, by taking care of little Chase, Bahng Chan’s son, from time to time.
You didn’t see anything wrong with the situation, you adored your sister even though she was a few years older than you, you were best friends without a problem, so you knew you wouldn’t have a dull moment, at least not all the time. Missy met Bahng Chan when she was 24 and studying for her graduate degree, Chan was then, her professor, 32 years old, a year divorced with an also 1 year old son, somehow, they fell in love and, Missy who for her motherhood was not an option, had no plans to conceive or adopt, accepted Chan just like that. They dated for four years, you knew Chan since you were younger, he was absolutely part of the family; they finally married two years ago and just last summer Chan bought a house in one of the nicest neighborhoods, moving in with her and him, and on special occasions when he had full care of his son.
To everyone’s good fortune, Chase was an adorable little boy identical to Chan, causing your sister so much tenderness as she watched him grow up that even on a couple of occasions her mentality was altered by wanting to conceive Chan’s child. Still, Chase was a little nerd, he loved school, he was too smart, and at his young age he had a life plan to get into the best college in the country —which you knew it wouldn’t be hard for him, seeing the kind of influences and contacts his father had—, but everyone knew he could make it on his own merit; he was of course at the top of his class and school, active, he played sports, he had a love of technology and above all, he was pure and very well disciplined. Missy and Chan would have him all to themselves the entire summer.
“Well, welcome, you already know which room is yours, oh, I didn’t ask if you were hungry” spoke your sister, closing the large door behind her.
“Mmm, I don’t think you cooked anything” you jokingly replied.
“No, but you can order something" she replied obviously, playing along, “If you want I’ll pay for it.”
“Thank you, Miss, I’m fine for now. Where’s Chase?”
“Mmm… I think he’s in his room.”
You left your things in the extra room you were going to stay in and headed animatedly to greet the little boy. His door was already half open, so you decided to slowly walk in.
“Chaseee” you chirped.
You could hear the sounds of video games from his television and when you were finally inside you confirmed that it was little Chase playing, however, he was not alone. You saw the attractive back of a slender man with long black hair sitting on the boy’s bed. As soon as Chase jumped up to hug you, he turned around revealing an attractive clean face done to perfection, bushy straight eyebrows, sharp dark eyes, accompanied by rectangular glasses, a slightly prominent nose, and full lips. He smiled at you, his gaze and smile were warm, and he stood up from his place, putting the console aside and walking towards you.
“Hello, auntie Y/n” Chase greeted you adorably.
You were so engrossed in reading the man with your eyes that you barely noticed that Chase had paused his game to go over and hug you, you returned the gesture, still standing and only hunching your posture slightly to gently rest your arms on him.
“Hi, Chase” you greeted him animatedly, looking at him quickly and returning your gaze to the man, who now stood before you.
Up close he looked a little better. He dressed a little unusual, making him look a little nerdy, but something about his look and gaze radiated so much confidence as if he knew how incredibly handsome he was. His black hair was slicked back, leaving free little strands that fell gracefully towards his face, and he looked so young as his lightly tanned skin was so smooth, but at the same time, you could tell he was someone older than you. He was tall and his limbs were long, his arms, his fingers, his legs in those black pants of a washed-out denim, baggy on his body, a collared shirt of a soft, thick gray fabric with the designer’s name on the pocket detail, giving the appearance of wearing another button-down collared shirt of red and white grid patterns, watch on his wrist and a thin necklace decorating his slightly bare chest; he looked good, too good for your taste, it felt good just to look at him.
“Ah, Aunt Y/n, this is my Uncle Hyunjin” the little boy spoke again.
“Nice to meet you, Hwang Hyunjin” finally said the man in front of you.
He sounded young, and had a unique voice that rumbled inside you. He didn’t stop looking at you either, almost as if he was mesmerizing you as well. He extended his right hand, you saw his large limb before shaking it, enjoying his light squeeze.
“Nice to meet you, too” you replied, trying to hide your huge grin, smiling downwards.
“Ah, you must be Y/n, Missy’s little sister, right?” he was quick to say, to which you nodded, unable to speak, but you had to, something in your nature wanted to flirt with him, “I’m a close friend of Chan’s and I come here for a few days in the afternoons as a private tutor for Chase.”
Hyunjin thought in those moments that you were not so little after all, you were quite a young woman and he felt the need to explain to you what he was doing there, in fact he felt the need to talk to you, you were a fresh and pretty young woman, you sparked in him the curiosity to talk further; regret came later for him, as he read your subtle bright look, implying that you were also interested. Hyunjin was older and knew every move of the game perfectly, so he blinked suddenly, coming out of his trance as he recognized that you were beginning to arouse in him curiosity for another woman, when he was happily married for almost a decade to the love of his life and they had two beautiful children.
You didn’t know what to reply, your brain was working fast to respond instantly to the handsome man, Chan’s friend; however, the little boy interrupted.
“Oh yes, auntie Y/n, Uncle Hyunjin is the best, he teaches me physics and math and also loves computers. He’s a biomedical engineer with a PhD, don’t tell anyone but he’s my favorite uncle” Chase spoke quickly, impressing you that the whole academic area was very important to him at his young age.
Hyunjin laughed softly, lowering his gaze to look more tenderly at the boy with a very cute smile traced on his face, his cheeks lifted and his eyes narrowed more, you thought he was adorable too. Seconds later, before anyone else could speak, footsteps could be heard down the stairs and a booming, animated, “Heyy, mate, where are you my champ?” in Chan’s distinctive voice.
The man entered his son’s room with a huge smile narrowing his eyes, “There you are, my boy” he said happily, seeing his mini-me version of himself and his purest creation.
“Oh, hi, daddy!” ran Chase to hug him.
Chan squatted down to better embrace his son, looked up and said:
“Oh, hi everyone” Chan extended his hand, greeting you and Hyunjin, with a shy smile.
You smiled back, you had to admit that Chan was always a very attractive and well conserved man for his age, he was a good man, he loved his son, his wife and he had to wear a suit almost every day that looked great on his muscular body, no doubt they were both lucky, because your sister was extremely careful with her appearance and she was a dream, a prosperous and sexy woman in her thirties, childless and with a professional career.
“Alright, lil’ mate, enough video games, go play outside” Chan commented softly to Chase, watching his face tenderly and still holding him.
“Will you play with me, daddy?” he replied, eyes sparkling.
“How about you let me change my clothes and then I’ll go to play with you right away, okay? You can play with Hyunjin.”
Chan looked at him, stood up and Chase turned to look in the direction of the two of you.
“And with aunty Y/n, too!” exclaimed the little boy.
“Alright, she can play too” Chan replied in a tired sigh, loosening his tie more, making him look effortlessly attractive, “Go with Missy so she can put some sunscreen on you before you go out.”
“Oh, I can do it” you replied at once, to which Chan whispered a soundless thank you, leaving his son’s room.
And again you were alone with Hyunjin… and Chase. You were slightly nervous, you had never stood like that in front of a boy, but you thought it was perhaps because you were very sure that Hyunjin was not a boy, but a man and you had never witnessed such a unique beauty as his. Hyunjin placed his hands in his pockets, also wandering in his thoughts, distracting himself from thinking about you and waiting for you to finish putting sunscreen on the little boy.
But Hyunjin couldn’t help it, his problem was always that he imagined too much, he loved to do it, it was his gift and curse at the same time, he was a bit delusional and kept fantasizing about how old you were, if you had a boyfriend, what year of college you were in, what your major was; because all he knew about you so far was your name, that you were the little sister of the wife of one of his best friends and that you were studying at the university. But it felt so wrong to have an interest in another woman. Normally he is not like that, he’s kind of shy but he has to socialize in his work from now and then, and he does it with female colleagues, he asks them about their life, he eats with them together sometimes, with another of his colleagues, in his lunch break, he texts them without concern when it’s something work related, he wishes them happy birthday… but feeling interest in you somehow felt so heavy and so wrong to him… and he recognized deep down that it was because of the fact that he found you attractive, so those two things combined, just resulted in Hyunjin’s light flirting, something he hadn’t done in years, at least not to impress or get the attention of any woman other than his dearest and most beloved Yeji.
Hyunjin was a romantic, he could be a bit of a nerd but he loved living a glamorous life, money, travel and love; so he goes through life quietly, exploring and living all kinds of experiences and, he comes to recognize when another woman is beautiful to him, but then he just moves on, remembering that there is no one more beautiful than the woman who wakes up in his arms every day, but for him… feelings are extremely important, he lives on hunches and feelings… and something deep down inside him is hard for him or he thinks it will be, to just let it go just like that, getting rid of you.
You played a little soccer in the sunshine together with Chase and Hyunjin, but quit as soon as Chan joined them, exaggeratedly pretending to be exhausted and shouting ‘time out!’ over and over again, just to get out of the situation, making the two men laugh, and made Hyunjin find you adorable, thinking you had a very cute relationship with Chase. You weren’t like that with all the kids, most of the time you didn’t know how to treat them, except for Chan’s boy, who was someone very special and smart and you almost saw him grow up too.
You entered the house, heading to the kitchen for some water, you already knew the place very well, you had stayed there a couple of times, Chan always reminds you that you are more than welcome and you know the pure kindness of your brother-in-law in his actions and words.
You took a napkin to wipe the light sweat from your brow and stood there, enjoying your refreshing water and the coolness of the house from the air conditioning everywhere. But your tranquility was disturbed when you saw that Chan’s handsome friend also entered the kitchen, confidently grabbing orange juice from the refrigerator. He walked over to you without thinking, standing next to you, with his glass in hand and finally taking a sip of the juice.
You thought everything about him in seconds, as you watched him slyly do the deed: his long fingers intertwining in the glass cup making it small held by him, his eyes closing softly as he directed the glass to his plumpy lips, his long neck and Adam’s apple moving as he drank, the ends of his hair slightly damp with sweat, everything about him was wow, the scene passed so slowly, you wanted this man, you were so determined and pumped up, until something shiny dazzled all your hopes away. As he lowered the glass from his mouth you noticed a ring on his finger, an important ring that indicated he was a taken man, belonging to someone else.
Hyunjin didn’t notice or acknowledge your displeasure, so he just continued with his questions, with a slightly guilty but bright smile on his face, convincing himself that he only wanted to ask about you, out of kindness, and not because he was really interested…
“Mmm… and you came to visit Missy?”
You turned to stare at him, you couldn’t do it because it made you nervous, but at the same time you just wanted to watched him over and over, you were embarrassed because you had a million of not-so-nice thoughts about a married man. You thought you should have seen it coming, Chan is 38, and his friends should be around that age, but he... something about him still remained so young, but it was to be expected that a man that handsome in his thirties would be married, more so with that shy, nerdy look; but something about you wanted to read him as a mature man, single, living life by visiting the children of his friends who did have children… your brain spun around, thinking if Hyunjin had children too and who was the type of person waiting for him at home.
“Oh, something like that, but I’ll stay here for the summer if that’s what you’re asking” you replied, as normally as possible.
“Ah…I see” he couldn’t have been happier to know that there was a possibility of seeing you often, “I’ll be teaching a few days a week for Chase, like a summer course… I guess, I’ll see you around.”
His slight change in tone, his look… you couldn’t process the fact that he might be flirting with you. You decided to give him back his vibe, you knew it was wrong, unbelievably wrong and that you’d be internally calling yourself a slut for the rest of the week, but you leaned back slightly more comfortably on the edge of the kitchen counter, smiling:
“So… what are you doing here? I assume your work is hard.”
He released a chuckle.
“It is to those who don’t enjoy it. I’m head of the whole department so, that has its perks” he hissed softly and smugly.
Hyunjin licked his lips, smiling and checking you out completely, giving you chills and now without any doubt he was flirting with you. Once again he used a slightly smug tone as did his expression, you couldn’t believe it, your body temperature began to rise… no doubt this was a man telling you that he basically did what he wanted and that he was the one in charge.
“Oh, I see, biomedical engineer you said? Well… said little Chase, it must be very interesting, really.”
Hyunjin took another sip of his juice, finishing it completely, staring at you as he licked his lips again, this time less casually and more sensually, savoring every last taste of the sweet but sour juice.
“What’s your major?”
“Law” you wobbled softly in place, approaching him smoothly.
“Oh, just like Chan and your sister” he spoke interestedly, raising his eyebrows, to which you nodded, shyly, “What year are you in?”
“Third.”
“Ah, I see, you’ve been in college for a while now… at this point I want to assume you like it, huh.”
Hyunjin thought eighteen plus three, giving you the sweet age of 21, if you had already turned it, he thought what a very nice number, it seemed like a number that had no limits… you were free, young and beautiful, able to do anything. Or you could be 22, 23, either was fine for him, he felt comfortable talking to you.
You made a grimace, your mouth slightly pouting, a sign that you doubted it, which made him laugh, a laugh so cute that you almost forgot that he was a completely taken man.
“Well… I like it but it has its moments…”
“I guess it’s hard, you should never underestimate any major…” Hyunjin was just about to tell you something from him in college, but he held back, the last thing he wanted was for you to see him as an old man, as the age difference was slightly considerate, over a decade gap, that he was sure of, while you were playing and probably around Chase’s age, he was in college and dating his current wife, “But hey, I see you did great this semester, you’re already here relaxing a bit…”
You looked into his eyes the whole time, each time you were getting closer and closer until both of your bodies were getting tighter and tighter together, almost sticking your blouse in the waistband of his pants, it was as if you both enjoyed seeing each other. This time you looked at him, innocent, with shining bambi eyes, raising your gaze because he was taller than you, tilting your head and running your tongue along the inside of your cheek. Hyunjin had to resist, clenched his left fist, and almost fell to his knees, in pity; he had never seen, he thought, such bright eyes, such a unique gaze in which he could see his anguished reflection of a distressed older man grieving, eagerly wanting to take your young body and pin you against the wall, screaming and scolding you to stop looking at him like that just now or…. he could fall, he was doing it, his gaze lowered to your lips, shiny from the water you were drinking, he didn’t know what was wrong with him, he hated it, but the feeling of wanting someone was filling him again, suddenly he felt all his blood rushing through his body, he was so alive again.
You were about to talk, to ask him meaningless empty questions that you knew he would be compelled to answer you… because his worried expression spoke for itself. He was so frustrated you almost wanted to squeeze his soft cheeks, telling him he looks a little tender when he’s needy.
Thoughts were betraying Hyunjin so much, it was like his final day where a little devil was whispering all sorts of things in his ear, and the little angel on his other shoulder had completely abandoned him. His body tensed, if only you could read his thoughts… you might be able to judge how dirty he was. He felt filthy, a dirty married man lusting after a college girl, as if there was no other cliché.
You liked seeing him like that, you didn’t really do anything elaborate yet, you were perplexed to think it would work so fast, you just gave him your best innocent look asking for sex, your best fuck me eyes, and the man almost trembled in front of you. But you took it as a game, as much as you wanted to fulfill his every fantasy and whatever he was thinking, as much as you were dying to get down on your knees right there and give him a blowjob… he was married and god, you studied law you knew the huge controversy about adultery backwards and forwards, you couldn’t do it, even though something deep down inside tingled in you, besides your throbbing clit trapped in your panties.
Just as the thoughts were about to have a fatal effect on Hyunjin’s body, Chan and Chase interrupt you, breaking the tension and making you slide down the kitchen island to get away from the dangerous distance you were with Hyunjin.
“Daddy, let me sleep over at Suho’s house, please!” the boy exclaimed, entering the kitchen with his father in the back.
“Go wash up and get your things ready, I’ll talk to your Uncle Minho to tell him if you can stay.”
You and Hyunjin remained silent, Hyunjin pushed up his glasses with a single finger, nervous and agitated, with his hands resting on the counter, crestfallen and embarrassed, about to be caught doing something improper; you on your own part were calm, watching Hyunjin’s expression with amusement, he was almost on the verge of tears. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Chan who watched him with a raised eyebrow in confusion.
“I have to go” Hyunjin suddenly spoke, his voice thick.
Oh, it was just starting to get good and create tension, you thought, disappointed, but you were comforted to see Chan agitated and sweaty in a sleeveless shirt, his strong arms and veins detonating; you couldn’t help it, you were just a girl with judgment and critical thinking, you admired your sister for getting someone very handsome.
“Oh, sure, Hyunjin, see you later.”
“Ah, yeah sure” he started to say nervously, avoiding looking at you, “Let Chase know I left, see you in a bit with rest of the guys… Bye, Y/n” he mentioned again a little awkward and more shy.
You smiled at the idea that he was so hard to read, he was confident, but then suddenly seemed so shy and clumsy, anyway, you thought that whoever he was married to, they were so lucky to have Hwang Hyunjin every day, while you… had him for the moment, just slightly wrapped around your finger, but you were sure it was a little slip and burst of lust, that he would go home with his partner and try to forget it all.
And he left, that time being the first time you met Hwang Hyunjin, an afternoon that moved every part of his world and left him thinking until his thoughts became a headache. Finally, he did exactly what you thought, he wanted to evade the guilt and his near slip. He came home, being greeted by the greatest loves of his life, his two sons, four and two years old, and his wife, who sweetly asked him how it went at Chan’s house, kissed him, and told him she had his clothes ready to wear for the night out with his friends later, without the slightest idea of what happened. Hyunjin knew the millions of opportunities he almost had, and a lot of women approaching him, but he was more shy and did not pay attention to them, he only had eyes and heart for Yeji… But now, how did he explain himself. He almost cried, however, he decided to release all those feelings and frustration by trying to make love to his wife, without success, it was relatively early for the kids to sleep and they were not giving them enough privacy; Hyunjin then remembered… they had gone weeks without intimacy with Yeji and sex was very important to him, they used to be so active and sexual, always on top of each other… but now, the last sexual encounter with the love of his life was when he gave her oral sex one morning before their kids woke up. He loved her, every part of her was delicious to him, and he knew her like a map by heart… yet the most typical frustration of a man ached in the deepest part of his being, not having sex. That night Hyunjin cried in the shower, masturbating thinking of you, and got ready, feeling pathetic when he still had it all, he was handsome, young, successful, and above all, he had time to stop and do things right.
You, on the other hand, stayed in to watch a movie with Missy, both of you relaxing, until little Chase went to disturb your peace a little.
“I’m off to Suho’s house now,” he warned.
Missy grimaced slightly, not wanting to go drop the little one off at the Lee’s house.
“Won’t your daddy drop you off?” asked Missy softly.
“Daddy’s still getting ready.”
“Ahh, I see, Y/n, take him,” your sister ordered you, causing you to be a little awed, but you couldn’t say no to the tender wobbly silhouette of Chase, all ready with a backpack on his back that Chan helped him sort out, “It’s here with the neighbors on the left.”
You smiled at Chase and got up from the couch to join him, he hurried off, leaving Chan’s property and heading for his friend’s house. It was getting dark, but there was still some light. You were surprised to see the house, thinking damn, little Suho must have a lot of money, or at least his parents, you had never paid attention to the rest of the houses, besides most of them were private properties, like Chase’s friend’s, he animatedly told you the code in secret so the gate could open, giving the view of a mansion… you knew the neighborhood was exclusive and Chan’s house was impressive, but this one you saw was much better.
You both walked to the door, now you knew why Chase couldn’t go alone, it was a few minutes walk despite being neighbors. You rang the doorbell, waiting a little over a minute for them to open.
“Oh, aunt, you’ll really like Suho!”
“Oh, Chase, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay and meet him…”
And they opened, abruptly, another handsome man, wearing a sleeveless black shirt showing off his strong arms and marked pecs and abs. He looked at you confused, almost in a rude manner, blinking in disbelief not knowing what you were doing on his property since he didn’t know you. Shiny, smooth, straight black hair, perfectly styled, his features were so sharp, sharp straight nose, big round feline eyes and thins lips with his pronounced nasolabial furrow. You thought about how many attractive men you had to see today and, if it was possible it was your lucky day.
“Can I help you…?” he was about to say, somewhat annoyed, frowning and narrowing his eyes.
“Uncle Minho!” greeted Chase, causing the man to lower his gaze and his countenance softened completely.
Minho laughed, hiding his upper lip slightly and showing his teeth.
“Ah, it’s you little Chase, come in, Suho is in his playroom.”
Chase suddenly became shy of Minho’s presence and came in a little embarrassed, being more respectful and less animated, giving you a little wave goodbye, and leaving you and Minho alone. You didn’t know anything about him, you barely even knew his name because Chase mentioned it and he was starting to intimidate you as well, his presence was so heavy but pleasant, his big eyes… if he saw you properly, he could look so kind… but just now he looked a bit unfriendly; even Hyunjin could have a bit more the appearance of a villain, but you couldn’t see him like that, instead Minho, something about him was so overbearing.
“Ah, I came to drop Chase off, I’m Missy’s sister… have a nice night!” you smiled at him, not knowing what to say.
Now Minho found you tender, he had already been impressed when he opened the door and the first thing he saw, as he was in a hurry as if to check through the cameras who it was, was a young girl, with the background of the sky painting itself in colors as night fell, your image was like a divine revelation, like an angel knocking on his door, but he hid the feeling perfectly.
“Wait” he stopped you, a great idea came to him, and you turned around, “What will you do today?” he asked suddenly.
You didn’t know how to answer, to which he continued, “Ah, it’s just that… would you mind watching Chase and Suho for a moment? And… a little girl. It’s just that my wife and I have to go out…”
You felt your luck crumble once you heard him say he had a wife, although of him you were ready any time he mentioned it, something about him was so domestic, it was obvious, to you, that he screamed husband material. Besides… a mansion to have it by himself with his son didn’t sit very well with you. Now you understood that it was about him, his wife and two children, Sunho and a girl.
“Do you want me to tell Chan or Missy to see if they agree or…?” he spoke again when he got no answer,
“Oh no, it’s okay, sure, I’ll do it.”
He smiled broadly, looking incredibly attractive, you didn’t know if you liked Hyunjin or Minho more, either one, it was a forbidden little crush, that you hoped wouldn’t pass into anything more than from your own thoughts, you weren’t that crazy and cynical, right?
“Thank you! It’ll only be a couple of hours. I’ll pay you, obviously” he said letting you in to which you nodded and entered, “Suho!!! Come here” he shouted, scaring you a little, being all fatherly, “What did you say your name was?” he asked you softly in contrast to his previous shout, standing next to you.
“Y/n.”
Minho looked you straight in the eyes and nodded, within seconds Suho and Chase appeared in front of you, and your nephew smiled happily at you waiting for the news.
“Y/n is going to take care of you tonight. Be good boys and take care of yourselves and obey her” said Minho in a serious tone to which they nodded animatedly.
You observed Suho for the first time, he was so similar to Minho, but at the same time, there were some slight differences to him.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Lee Suho” the little guy introduced himself so politely, causing you so much tenderness.
“Nice to meet you, Suho” you said with a smile.
Minho looked at you tenderly, and you deciphered that this was Lee Minho; he hadn’t even introduced himself and you had already said yes so he and his wife could have their moment.
“Go back to the playroom, Y/n will be right there in a minute” he warned, coming out of his trance, you liked hearing him say your name, “I’ll take you to meet Minji, she’s one year old, she’s so smart for her age” Minho spoke adoringly.
He guided you to what seemed to be her room, it was pink but still looked a bit sophisticated for a little girl’s, there were slight elements that gave you hints that it was a little girl’s room; you were impressed in every corner you knew of that house. As you entered you saw a slender woman playing with the little girl, both sitting on the floor.
“Park Suji” Minho spoke to her, a little coldly, catching the woman’s attention.
You noticed how he didn’t refer to her as Lee.
The woman turned around, causing you to finally see her fully and your jaw almost dropped to the floor, internally as on the outside you didn’t react. It was none other than Park Suji, one of the most recognized and highest paid actresses and celebrities, her face was everywhere, it was known that she was married and had two children, but she was extremely careful with her image and kept everything private, the world was dying to know what her children and husband looked like, everyone speculated that she had married a billionaire, but to her fortune, it was the handsome Lee Minho as her husband.
Suji looked at you both expressionlessly, waiting for Minho to speak.
“I got you a temporary babysitter, just for today, she’s Y/n, she won’t say anything, she’s Chan’s wife's sister” Minho explained himself a little frustrated.
Suji smiled broadly, finally hearing good news, she carried the girl and walked quickly in the direction of her husband.
“Thank you so much, honey, I knew you would, I love you,” she replied happily, giving Minho a kiss on the cheek, “Can you take care of Minji? I have to finish getting ready.”
Minho carefully carried his little girl, smiling at her instantly, Minho’s big eyes suddenly shone in adoration, seeing the baby return the gesture of happiness. You looked for brief seconds at Suji, she was so beautiful in person, she made a great pair with Minho, the two of them looked so fucking good together, you didn’t understand why Suji didn’t show him off to the world.
“Hey, my baby, she’s your newest friend, Y/n” Minho baby-talked, consumed with tenderness, making him press his lips together, gently squeezing her chubby arms.
You looked at him fondly, after being intimidating to you, seeing his soft side just because of his little daughter made you tender. Plus he looked fucking handsome with his big bare arms.
“As you can see, my life with Suji is very private, I really want to trust you that you won’t share any information, our children’s names, their appearances, ages…” Minho suddenly spoke seriously, his voice cutting and thick, returning to his intimidating self.
You shook quickly, “Oh, yes, I understand, Mr. Lee” you replied somewhat submissive and scared, making him smile sideways.
“Well, they’re all yours” he said, trying to pass you the little one to hold, but she objected mumbling a soft daddy, “Daddy will play with you, okay? I’ll bring Soonie to you, you want to see Soonie?” you held the little girl finally as she babbled a tiny Soonie, “I have three cats, they’re running around all over the house, I hope you’re not allergic. Well, I’ll finish getting ready and come say goodbye in a moment.”
Minho left in a hurry, leaving you stranded with his little girl in your arms, the little girl was calm and somewhat quiet with a stuffed animal in her arms, you saw her up close, she was completely the female version of Minho.
You didn’t know what to do, it was a bit easy to get lost in the house you didn’t know, but you went to Suho’s playroom, where at first he joked about being a girl-free space and minutes later he started having fun with his sister, who was running and shouting his name over and over again. Then you heard a shout from Minho, calling Suho back, he ran out, alerting him that we were all in his playroom.
Minho walked in, taking your breath away, he looked so casually dressed. He added a leather jacket on top of black sleeveless shirt, silver chains and necklaces with his light blue jeans.
“Okay, you know the emergency numbers and I’ll leave you mine just in case. I’ll be right back.” Minho addressed you.
“Daddy, did mommy leave too?” Suho asked him.
“Didn’t she say goodbye to you?”
Suho softly shook his head with a slight pout and wide eyes, to which you caught a glimpse of Minho annoyed, sighing and rolling his eyes almost disappointed. You passed your cell phone to Minho to type in his number a little nervously, you booked it as Lee Minho. He typed quickly on your cell phone and passed it to you; saying goodbye to all the kids with affection and goodbye to you with a gentle see you later.
Hours passed, you talked to your sister about how you got caught and you couldn’t say no, she laughed and joked about how Chan’s friends were all dilf’s. You gossiped with her a bit, having a celebrity as a neighbor, to which Missy told you that Minho works in an extremely famous entertainment company, which Suji is a part of and from there their love story began.
As it got later in the night you gave them dinner because Suho suddenly wanted pizza, hesitantly you asked Minho by message what his kids were eating, you didn’t want to bother him, but he immediately replied that it was okay to order pizza for the boys, as long as Suji didn’t notice, as she apparently had a healthy diet specifically for their kids; he only helped you a little by telling you what to feed little Minji. Finally getting ready for bed both children, six-year-old Suho, and 7-year-old Chase, completely independent in their routines, put on their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and went to sleep. The real challenge was little Minji who suddenly started crying, you didn’t know what to do, her diaper was clean, she had no fever, and she had eaten well… you were scared for a while, until you put cartoons on her and she managed to calm down little by little, leaning her little body on yours on the couch, where you both fell completely asleep.
You lost track of time and a manly voice calling your name softly woke you up, startling you a little, and the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Minho’s attractive face looking at you carefully and closely. Once you woke up, he pulled away a little, and you felt embarrassed to realize that you had his little daughter cuddled up, sleeping next to you on the couch, thinking what a good job it was to have left her in her comfy bed, but the TV was still playing cartoons.
“Oh, Mr. Lee, I’m sor-”
“It’s okay, I arrived a little later than expected, sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, a little frustrated, you wised up, noticing a relaxed expression on his face and his drooping eyelids, “I imagine Suji hasn’t arrived, right?” this time he slurred his words a little but did his best to sound aligned, you shook and a displeased expression reappeared, “It’s okay, let me take Minji to bed and I’ll come back to you.”
Minho approached his daughter, who whimpered softly as she was moved but instantly recognized her daddy’s strong arms. You were restless waiting, it was almost 3 a.m. and you wanted to sleep. He returned after a few short minutes.
“Did the kids behave well?” he said as he returned, to which you just nodded.
Minho suddenly moaned in a soft groan, “Agh, I drank too much. Y/n, it’s late, do you want to sleep over in the guest room or shall I walk you to Chan’s house? He’s there, we just arrived.”
He stared into your eyes, you felt like a little girl changing houses. Suddenly, the not-so-nice thoughts appeared in your head but now with Minho.
“Will you be alright in the morning?” you mentioned somewhat sheepishly, as you noticed he did look a little drunk.
Minho smiled, “Of course I will.”
“I… I can go to Chan’s house by myself, it’s just a few minutes away…”
He shook his head disapprovingly softly, “Come on, I’ll walk you quickly, everyone’s asleep.”
You made a very good impression on Minho the first time he met you, he thought at least for a few minutes in totality, about you, but then stopped as he got distracted and told himself he has better things to think about. And you, in those short minutes when he walked by your side, you saw him slyly, his hair shone under the light poles illuminating the street and the road, something about him was very different from Hyunjin, as much as you wanted to flirt with him, something stopped you and it wasn’t exactly morals and ethics.
That meeting Minho had with his friends had been chaotic and he learned slightly more about you, when Hyunjin suddenly brought the topic of conversation to the table, you… causing Minho to be immeasurably curious as to how it was that you knew Hyunjin and why you met him before him. Later Hyunjin realized that you were texting each other as you babysat Minho’s children, making a slightly inebriated Hyunjin think about hiring your services as soon as possible just to see you longer.
He finally left you at the door, where he quickly pulled out his wallet to pay you for your very unexpected service. You didn’t know how much a babysitter earned for a night, but you were sure that the amount he was giving you was a bit exaggerated, you tried to tell him, but he refused and before you both could say more, an also slightly drunk Chan opened the door.
“Ah, there you are, Y/n, come in. Goodbye, Minho” you turned to see him, unable to say thank you as Chan had closed the door.
“Sweet dreams” he wished you, leaving with tired steps to his room.
That was the time you met Lee Minho for the first time. There was no need for your intervention for him to start doubting his wife, he had been doing it for months, since Minji was born they started to have problems since Suji always wanted only one child; Minho agreed since it was her body and they would make a nice family anyway, but there was a time when Minho mentioned how much he wished for two since he grew up a bit lonely being an only child and always wondered how it felt to have a real sibling, Suji did not take it seriously and by an accident, she became pregnant with Minji, after four arduous years of taking care of herself after Suho’s birth, however, she did not tell anyone about her pregnancy and was planning on having an abortion, she was already contacting her manager to schedule doctor’s appointments, but that afternoon after taking the pregnancy test, her sister came into her bathroom to find it and getting excited, she congratulated Minho without a second thought. He found out while he was at work and ran to his wife to ask her what was going on, she told him that she refused to keep them, she was about to start filming a show and didn’t want to feel pregnant. Minho had to put up with it and let her do what she wanted, he knew perfectly well that she was not going to listen to him, she was not going to listen to him when he said how much he dreamed of feeling another little one in his arms again and being there for her at any moment, but to Suji’s bad luck, her sister had already told her parents, she was so genuinely happy that she could not contain herself, so Suji, out of intense love and respect for her conservative and religious parents, kept the fetus, but she really didn’t want to, arguing that her body would be deformed, that she was already in a critical situation being in her thirties, that one more pregnancy and birth would destroy her career.
But Suji’s problem was never with Minji, she loved and loves her creation resulting from her loins, sweat and pain… but somehow she took it out on Minho, resulting in endless fights and an incredible lack of communication. Minho didn’t understand, he loved her with a fierce passion… but since Minji’s pregnancy she stopped being the one he loved.
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But after the anguish and pain, a fatal relief came to the tormented souls of those two men. A relief so beautifully short-lived, the first time they both tasted the forbidden fruit, and the first sinner to commit the heinous act of adultery was Hwang Hyunjin.
After a week of getting to know each other, of flirting with him when no one was around, of talking and talking endlessly with certain guilty looks of desire, that’s when it all fell apart. One Saturday, when you let yourself get carried away with pleasure without thinking about the horrible consequences of your actions.
Missy informed you a day before that she would have her first meeting with the wives of their respective husbands, of Chan’s friends and that she felt happy and included, as a new woman; she mentioned that they accepted the invitation and that it was probably only because she was married to Chan and she would invite his close friends with their families. Missy invited you too and you couldn’t deny the opportunity to host a gathering full of mature and incredibly hot men of their ages. You couldn’t deny it, ever since you met Hyunjin, and from time to time talked to Minho, your mind was racing with thoughts of having a taste for men who were older. You fantasized about how experienced they must be, the way they must move, your thoughts made your legs go limp.
And it all happened the next day, when you did your best to dress slightly elegant but casual knowing the kind of people you were going to see, like Minho’s superstar wife and a few other rich women. Finally, the perfect families arrived, at least some perfect in appearance, the Hwang family, Lee, and one more, the small Han family of childless newlyweds. And then Missy and you showed up, whose women internally judged both of you to be the youngest of them all and not so much in keeping with their group, somehow. They thought for a few seconds that you were like some sort of dolls, two bimbos designed to make men happy but not enough to take you seriously enough to marry you.
You saw Hyunjin arrive with his wife and two children with his same slitted eyes and something inside you died. You had to stop, you couldn’t start creating more temptation in him, flirting with him felt so much worse. You met Yeji, a beautiful woman with long straight hair, dyed light brown color, she was also incredibly gorgeous, you even stopped understanding the reason why Hyunjin would even fantasize about you, having someone like her every day.
Then the Lee family appeared, with Suji’s perfect, clean-cut appearance. To be honest, you hadn’t flirted with Minho since, besides the fact that you hardly saw him often, you didn’t think Minho was an easy target, something about him made you extremely nervous, sometimes he looked at you normally, sometimes softly with slight sweetness but there were also times when he was so intimidating.
And lastly, Han Jisung, you didn’t know him that well, he looked slightly younger than the rest but his face was so mature, as was his soft and deep voice; he was accompanied by his young wife and they had just married in the spring.
The children were playing in the huge Chan’s yard, the women were sitting in a shaded area, ready to be served by their husbands… And you, you were there as an outsider, being the youngest of the group, not belonging to any man who was cooking, unless of course if thoughts spoke, you would mentally be Hyunjin’s property, he drove you crazy, he was so witty and nerdy that you wanted to do so many things to him.. and deep down, only with this one you had a harder time accepting it since you knew his kids, he was Minho’s, fuck, you would do anything just for a little touch from Minho, he was unbelievably hot and his sex appeal was undescribable. Something about those two men made you super horny and you were sick of holding back.
So, you just watched them secretly, between complicit glances, of which Hyunjin returned each one of them, however, Minho was taking care of Minji, while Yeji was taking care of her youngest two-year-old —at the same time not taking her eyes off her other son playing with Chase and Suho—, whose adorable little boy with the same face as his father was sitting nicely still on his mother’s lap. He was so quiet and adorable, you definitely felt so guilty sleeping with his daddy.
Yeji called Hyunjin to come over, telling him if he could please bring her Yoojin’s favorite toy, the youngest boy of them, which he had forgotten in the car and the adorable boy was starting to get restless for his toy and, while Hyunjin was there, he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation, the typical question of one of them asking you if you had a boyfriend, if there was some one interesting in your college, if you saw yourself formalizing with someone; Hyunjin suddenly felt jealous but was comforted to know that you didn’t have a boyfriend and thought that he could treat you better than any other immature boy of your age.
You for yourself felt stupidly bad about the obvious closeness of him and his wife, you didn’t know what was wrong with you, you knew it was pathetic and illogical to feel this way and that you needed a really good reality check, that your silly fantasies were not going to be fulfilled and that you were getting carried away with a married man with children.
You watched them play, endearing and making you feel miserable, Hyunjin and Yeji, smiling in the grass, with Yoojin and Yoohyun, the little boy and big brother. You felt a little listless and slowly walked into the house, not wanting to see anyone, not having the slightest idea that your image hadn’t faded Hyunjin and Minho’s mind and thoughts.
You sat on a couch in the living room, checked your cell phone uninterested thinking that you had worn your very nice and elegant sundress, had done your hair and makeup to… impress men out of your limits. You wanted to laugh at yourself, you really did, but a part of you seriously needed to try at least one of them or you felt like you were going to die, besides… you just wanted some sex, it wasn’t like you were looking to snatch their love for their wives.
You sighed in frustration, you were seriously about to text a guy your age from one of your classes just so you could see each other and please you, you had sex a couple of times, and at least this time you could imagine it was Hyunjin or Minho filling your pussy. You were really about to message him, you were in his chat trying to decipher the perfect message, but a bigger mistake suddenly appeared.
“Why that face?” a voice you knew so well spoke you softly.
He had managed to sneak away and searched for you until he found you, sitting looking like a beautiful little doll in your short dress. You looked up, meeting Hyunjin’s long physique, your gaze swept from his thighs to his face which had an adorable smile on it. However your eyes stopped for a second on his crotch, whose bulge in his jeans was so visible and wasn’t even hard, you salivated, thinking about how incredibly big his cock must be, causing you to shiver as it excited you a little.
Hyunjin adjusted his glasses and sat down next to you, so close to you that your thighs touched the denim of his pants. You raised your shoulders with a little pout, Hyunjin found you so cute, he wanted to rub his whole cock on your face, he had never felt such a big sexual appetite as just now, he wanted to satiate all his desires and satiate you, the magnetism of your bodies was incredible.
“I don’t know” you replied nonchalantly, you now being the one to divert your thoughts, he was married and his wife was out with their children, it wasn’t fair, “There are a lot of people out there.”
He laughed incredulously, not taking his eyes off you.
“Adults outside bore you a bit, don’t they?” he asked in an amused tone.
You nodded softly, watching him and downplaying it and trying to calm the small fire that lit your insides, you needed him so badly that you lowered your gaze to your thighs, unable to cease your thoughts and emotions.
“Then let’s have some fun, I’m a little bored too” he whispered to you so seductively that he caught your attention quickly and you found him licking his lips, you watched him raptly, as if you had imagined his phrase, but no, “What do you guys do nowadays for fun?” he purred, completely aroused and, a little hesitantly, he placed his large hand on your bare thigh, squeezing it gently.
You saw his hand and then you saw him. You couldn’t say no, you could, but you didn’t want to. You wanted every inch of him making you smile like you never had before.
Just this once, you promised and prayed, just this once you will have sex with someone married, you thought as you swore in vain, you hoped you would be forgiven and never caught.
“Would you like to know my kind of fun?” you smiled broadly.
Hyunjin nodded frantically, stroking your thigh; his cock throbbed in his pants within seconds of touching you, your soft, smooth skin, you looked so angelic to him that he could get down on his knees and make you his new religion, he needed you, he could eat you day and night, he couldn’t even organize his thoughts. He had lost himself, he never thought he could control his lust and put it over everything and everyone. He moved his hand up, closer and closer until he approached your center, feeling in him a rush of adrenaline, as if he was about to reach a goal that he exahusively determined to reach. You watched him, every limb of his manly body, weak, taut and yielding in sex, his bulge grew, his eyes sparkled… he was a new man, ready to fuck.
“But let’s do it somewhere else” you tried to say.
You were so weak too, you were a young woman about to fulfill her fantasy, it was obvious that your body was vibrating with excitement.
You stood up, your pussy was soaking wet and he barely caressed your thigh. You led him to your room, in such a fugitive and manic way, checking that there was absolutely no one inside the house who could see you enter the same room. Walking so excitedly feeling your sticky folds with every step you took. And wasting no time, once you locked the door, you raised your gaze, Hyunjin watched you with his sharp dark eyes as if he was catching his prey, with a smug smile on his face and in timid steps he approached your body, until he joined your body to his completely, finally catching your lips so passionately and desperately.
Hyunjin held you from your lower back sticking you to his body and performing the dirtiest and most atrocious act ever committed in his entire life, an adulterous relationship, an affair outside of his matrinomy, but the dirty man didn’t think for a second about all the life he led and built with hard work and love around the years, he was crazy but only his brain was working to think of you and the throbbing pain in his crotch from his well erect member.
You tried to keep up with his rhythm, his lips felt just as you had imagined them, soft and fluffy, and he kissed with such skill that it was a little hard for you to keep up with him but you enjoyed every second of the act, of his big hands lifting your dress to squeeze your ass, his erection colliding with your body and his face attached to yours to the point of feeling his glasses bump into your face, everything about him made you so horny and you couldn’t believe it was happening. His attacked somehow slow and romantic kisses continued, satisfying the inside of your mouth to perfection until surrendering in breathlessness, yet he kept depositing little pecks on your lips, so lost in you, every part of you that he wanted so much, finally for himself.
Slowly, Hyunjin opened his eyes again to pleasantly meet your face, smiling at it in a mischievous way and almost immediately, you got down on your knees, impressing him a little and making him eager to know exactly what you were about to do, he never wanted you to stop.
Both bodies were tense, lewd and full of sin in a spiritual context, surrounded by evil and lust, both bodies engulfed in flames ready to unburden their darkest secrets on that bright summer afternoon.
You licked your lips, two of your very important organs throbbing in pleasure for the forbidden, your heart protruding from your chest and your pussy getting more and more lubricated, you watched him with feigned innocence behind your not virgin eyes and unbuckled his belt, and the tedious button and zipper that blocked you from tasting your new favorite food, you were so hungry for his cock that you thought you would explode with excitement. You swallowed nervously at the sight of a big size still in his boxers and, finally you could take it raw in your hands, making Hyunjin let out a soft whimper.
“Fuck, play with my cock as much as you want, baby, please” Hyunjin whimpered needily, stroking your face and hair delicately.
His comment coming from the deepest part of his darkest desires sent an electrifying shock to your sensitive spot of your needy femininity, which was begging for some spoiling as well. Hyunjin was lost, he wanted to take you, to see what he swore would be the most delicious and pretty pussy his eyes had ever seen, so shiny and dripping for him, but an unknown force was taking over his fragile body and it wasn’t exactly guilt, it was something inexplicable that he let himself be carried away by every single thing you decide to do, he was for you and by you, absolutely devoted.
You looked at his erect and throbbing shaft between your two hands, thinking it was obvious you’d have too much fun, Hyunjin was ridiculously big, long like the rest of his limbs; you didn’t wait to play with his entire length, unable to believe he was hiding such an amazing cock under his tender and nerdy appearance, sometimes a bit of a loser.
You wanted to rub your whole pussy on his cock, it really impressed you, you had never seen one this big, but you just limited yourself to masturbating him, with trembling hands palpating every corner of his sex, from carefully and gently squishing his balls while resting his tip leaking precum in your tongue with your mouth open.
“Do you like it, Mr. Hwang?”
Hyunjin sighed and nodded, so excited by the formal way you spoke to him, even though you know he likes to be called simply Hyunjin.
“Ye-es, please keep doing it.”
He was so desperate for the moment he didn’t even know where to place his hands, he looked first timer, he felt first timer, like he was doing it for the first time and his cock was getting to know the feeling of a warm cavity to please him. He forgot the last time his wife had blown him, he was so hormonal and needy, but just radiating delicious, masculine pheromones that made you lose your mind. Tasting a man’s sweet, big cock, you felt so fulfilled. His hands found your hair again and you began to suck him hard, squeezing your cheeks so he could feel the softness of your mouth. Hyunjin trembled, so close to his orgasm as you teased him to the limit.
You continued more confidently, licking his entire length, moistening it to dirty slurping sounds on it, teasing his needy, squirting, pink glans, until you took his cock again, wrapping your lips around it, struggling to get it deep into your mouth.
Hyunjin whimpered, babbling your name, his every energy was focused on his cock and as he felt you sucking him at an exquisite pace, bobbing your head all over his cock, it was doom for him, you were doing it so well he had to throw his head back panting “Fuck.”
Hyunjin bit his lip, holding back his moans and watching you take his cock so well he grabbed more of your hair into a sort of ponytail to gently push you in, he didn’t want you to take your lips off his cock, his pumping sex hadn’t felt this good in a while, all of him came alive again.
“Fffuck, mmm baby, I’m gonna cum, you’re sucking it so good, oh my god.”
You would have liked his cock to fuck your throat, but you didn’t want to hurt yourself, he was so big you just wished he would use his big gift for good, and so he could keep fucking you, you wanted him so bad.
You sucked harder, masturbating the rest of his length, you were so turned on you thought about bringing one of your hands up to your pussy to attend to it a little. Hyunjin gasped in exasperation and cum all the way into your mouth. Saliva and his cum started coming out of your gob and you pulled his cock out of your mouth for a few shots to stain your chin making you smile broadly. Hyunjn was so full that he wanted to keep fucking you until you pumped him dry, no kidding, he wanted to be completely yours.
Hyunjin was ready to continue with you but the sound of his cell phone indicating a call in his pants pocket that lay lowered halfway down his legs startled you both. He snapped back to reality, he had loved the way you had done it and would pray for it to be repeated again and again… but you weren’t alone, there were people outside, waiting for you, and his family was one of them. Hyunjin nimbly pulled up his underwear and pants, adjusting his big cock and verifying that indeed his call was from his wife.
You stood up, somewhat confused, to which he leaned close to your ear to whisper:
“I’m sorry I didn’t make you cum, next time I’ll make sure to take care of you, okay?”
Next time… you thought.
Hyujin was about to leave, but shyly asked you if you could let him know there was no one there, you did, telling him there was no one around so he walked out of there, leaving you with your heart racing and incredibly aroused, you couldn’t calm down, you were so frustrated you had to play alone a little with your pussy until you made yourself cum with your own fingers.
Hyunjin felt dirty and guilty, but you made him see stars and now he was addicted to you. He just hoped he didn’t look so agitated.
On the way, Hyunjin met Minho, who was looking for you since your sister asked for you and he offered to do so, without any objection, however he met a nervous Hyunjin who strangely denied in a heavy manner to have seen you and left, leaving Minho blinking in confusion and came to your room, where he was about to knock on your door and call your name, but sweet somewhat strange and compromising sounds awakened something in him all of a sudden. You were moaning softly, holding back the sounds as you filled your pussy with your fingers, fantasizing about being touched by someone else, fantasizing that it was Hyujin and his big cock, you were so damn horny that you couldn’t calm down, you only got more aroused and prolonged your orgasm more.
Minho could decipher that your sounds were sexual and his mind went off in all possible scenarios, just like Hyunjin, he hadn’t gotten good sex in a while…
You on your hand, kept playing with your whole vulva, caressing and penetrating your slick entrance while thinking and thinking… putting yourself in his wife’s place, thinking that if you would have a hot husband and a promiscuous college girl managed to seduce him you would surely cut his penis in his sleep, but shit, it’s just that Hwang Hyunjin? you didn’t want him to waste his amazing size by not using it, you could take care of him.
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Your second atrocious and immoral act, was attributed to Lee Minho. You couldn’t deny it, the damage was already done, you already felt like a dirty slut and you might go to hell but the taste and feeling of Hyunjin’s big cock struggling to enter your cavity was not taken away from you by anyone.
A little secret didn’t hurt anyone if it was taken to the grave, right?
Ever since Minho heard you moan like a dirty needy little slut, or so he thought, every aspect he had of you changed, before he saw you as the pretty girl who was somehow Chan’s family and rarely thought of you, like when he felt lonely at times of the day, he would start thinking about what a young girl like you would do, oh, but after that afternoon, the sweet sounds of pleasure from your mouth made him so hard that he had to go off to work it out on his own, thinking it was unfair the way you left him and that you had to be even. That day he wanted to break down your door to fuck you right there.
Chan was giving you opportunities to visit his office to see a few cases and it just so happened that the big entertainment company that Chan also works for and of course, Minho does there too, was across the long avenues, but were basically across the street from each other.
It was strange, but suddenly Minho started visiting Chan more, hoping to find you there and when he did, he would take the opportunity to flirt with you in his unique way, which worked very well for you, you liked Minho so much but wanted to deny it.
Minho was more… you couldn’t explain it but he was more different, in fact he was so different from Hyunjin. Minho despite being rich liked to live a simple life and enjoyed the little things, it was as if being a father and being in a house suited him so well, he was such an old man. But he also had fantasies and liked to have a little fun, in fact he loved to tease people, which he started to do and you didn’t know how to act at first, maybe you were quite intimidated by the fact that his wife was literally a superstar, yet that didn’t stop him so that one afternoon when he seemed friendly and happy, he talked to you and as fate would have it, Chan stepped out for a brief moment, leaving you and Minho alone, so he began to tell you what he did at work and how he was also a professional choreographer and dancer, impressing you but justifying his maintained appearance and body.
He started joking with you, which made you feel good, his smile was adorable and you could melt right there just listening to his laugh. Minho started talking to you about a supposed new choreography which he invented and…. one second it was laughter and games and the next it became completely serious, as he suddenly stood behind you, holding your waist and placing his face next to yours, Minho had never touched you before because there was no need to. Your body tensed and your breathing momentarily cut off.
“And I’ve told the boys to take their work very seriously, dancing can leave them exhausted at times” Minho whispered close to you.
You found it meaningless what he had said, what did that have to do with him touching you, lowering one of his hands to your ass and the other near your pussy, but you didn’t complain.
“I had to tell them that in order to find themselves in such a sensual dance, they should start doing sensual things too…”
You were transfixed at his touch, he moved his body closer until you finally felt the touch of his cock as he was wearing loose shorts that clung a bit to his body, at least in his exquisite crotch.
You didn’t say anything, you just enjoyed the moment and how your body was struggling to keep up, but you were beginning to get hopelessly aroused.
“But me… who can help me with that, to give them my best too…”
Minho squeezed your pussy, surprising you, his whole hand under your femininity over your jeans. You collapsed, losing yourself, but before you could react, he pulled away from you abruptly.
“And well I also told them that creating some good tension on stage might be good for them by having the audience hooked on their movements” Minho spoke more relaxed, as if nothing had happened, almost in a mocking tone.
You turned to look at him, distressed. Minho had a haughty smile on his face and laughed softly in such amusement, naughtily running his tongue across his lips, but you didn’t find it funny, you found it ridiculous the way he had to approach and touch you, or so you wanted to feel as you were pathetically horny, screaming for sex from a mature, married man. Again, from a new man.
He saw your expression, so tenderly needy with eyes begging him to touch you again. He found it amusing and got even with you by letting him masturbate in the bathroom that day at Chan’s house. However, your expression… drove him crazy, he wanted to fuck you so hard until your pleading look is genuine, until you are covered in tears and in his cum. The thought made his cock twitch in despair.
“Minho…” you whispered, seeing his face and body in his snug, comfortable, sporty clothes.
His expression changed, giving you a dirty look, “Minho? Address me with respect, I’m older than you, kid.”
His authoritative tone and annoyed expression shouldn't have excited you so much, but it did, almost weakening your legs. Before he acted, however, Chan arrived.
And the next day it really happened, when you used the old technique of a slightly provocative outfit, getting all dolled up and thinking that if that worked on Minho it would be funny if he fell for the most typical and obvious, but you had to resort to that, you didn’t know how to approach him properly, when in fact you shouldn’t even do it.
But you were dying for a taste of Minho. One more unforgivable act and you would stop, you swore again.
Minho kept thinking about you, but he had no plans to fuck you, he had done enough with teasing you and that had already turned him into something he never thought he would be, a fucking cheating bastard, since he had no reason to touch another woman. But he kept fantasizing about how good you must feel, how inexperienced you must be, all horny, riding a cock senselessly and frantically believing that was the right way to satisfy a man, since that’s how you’d been taught to do it, at least by the dumb, immature college boys, or so he thought. Minho would be lying if he denied that he was incredibly attracted to you. But it was so wrong.
That day he casually went to see Chan on legal advice about something that came up as a conversation at his work earlier in the day, he could talk to him on the phone, but he wanted an excuse to at least see you, if he wasn’t going to allow himself to fuck you.
And he found you, attractively sitting behind a desk reading some papers, making notes, so focused and cute, making him feel so guilty and dirty as he had recurring thoughts of your weak sex-weary destroyed body.
But your face lit up at the sight of him and your attention was drawn to him.
Minutes later in the midst of conversation with his friend, Chan had to apologize and said that he remembered he had to leave urgently and it would take perhaps all afternoon, if Minho could please go drop you off at his house, to which strangely for Chan, Minho agreed instantly, leaving you alone once again at such a critical point for both of you.
Minho came dangerously close to you, with the dirty thought of fucking you on his friend’s desk, but he had to stop himself.
“Chan had to leave, I’ll drop you home” he spoke to you sharply.
“Now? I’ll leave now?”
“Yes, that’s when I have some time off.”
You had gone over the situation, feeling even guilty about raising looks from Chan towards you, that was not what you wanted, Chan was never your target because you had enormous respect for him and you thought that maybe you should start acting sane and also keep respect for his friends, stopping all the craziness.
You grabbed your stuff and your short skirt got exactly the kind of reaction you wanted from the beginning for Minho to have. It took nothing for him to drop you off at Chan’s house, go back to his job where his wife was busy on another floor and fuck her right there, but it took nothing for him to fuck you either.
“Oh, sure, wait here, I’ll go get my car,” he said.
He was so engrossed that he stopped thinking clearly. You got in his car, leaving Chan’s assistant to close the place later at closing time.
You were nervous and tried to distract yourself, thinking about how his car looked so good on him, it looked just like the kind of car Lee Minho would drive, you thought about what to eat once you got to the house, you just wanted to stop the crazy ideas, but now it was Minho who had them.
You didn’t even see him drive and acted modestly, while his piercing gaze saw every part of you, of your subtle cleavage and skirt so short he could see your panties easily in that position. Minho cursed menatally and thought he should have let you order a fucking cab. Chan argued that Missy was at some sort of all-important convection for Chase and they had the tickets for a while, so he didn’t want to disturb them at their bonding time and he didn’t want to keep you waiting.
You felt his heavy gaze and stirred a little excitedly in the seat, revealing a little momentary glimpse of your white panties. Minho tightened his grip on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead, so annoyed and helpless that he couldn’t do anything, he pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose a little, trying to calm himself down, you were literally doing nothing and you had him with his libido full, his mind spinning and his cock so hard it was squeezing in his jeans.
Minho was blinded in lust and finally spoke, confessing what his mind always wanted you to know:
“I bet you taste delicious.”
You blinked in confusion, thought you hadn’t heard his murmur right, innocently believing he was talking about food all of a sudden. Minho stopped at a red light and you both turned to look at each other. His intense gaze surprised you and you noticed him subtly agitated, his expression was serious and monotonous but his breathing was heavy, he was aroused, you noticed, it was impossible not to see his notorious bulge protruding from his pants.
You felt dizzy and heated, thinking how unreal the situation was.
“Excuse me?” you asked almost breathlessly.
“That I bet you taste delicious. I want to taste your sweet pussy until I make you scream, that’s what I said.”
You were surprised by his boldness and honesty. Minho spoke to you so directly, in such a demanding and serious tone, but you managed to see his slight sparkle in his eyes, almost enjoying what he said. He moved the car forward and it wasn’t superfluous to say that your world spun in every possible way.
“And… where will you do it Mr. Lee?” you returned to yourself, your weak body filled with pity and guilt glowing in desire again.
Minho smiled, so happy all of a sudden.
“I can’t fuck you in the car, the daylight is too bright. But we can do it at my place, there’s no one there now.”
You shivered and Minho was so happy that you easily agreed that he caressed your thigh; you sighed softly, he enjoyed teasing you until he brought his hand to your pussy, you didn’t understand how he could look so calm, with his cock aching and still driving while he pulled the fabric of your panties aside to caress your pussy, you were already a mess, it felt so good, but it was so wrong.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already, I see” Minho giggled softly, “We’re almost there, doll. Don’t worry.”
And Minho was almost cumming in his pants, his cock screaming for attention. All of you were doing it.
You arrived, Minho’s wife was gone, his children were being watched by his mother, everything was lining up perfectly for you, it seemed. You felt dirty again, with an ache in your chest but you couldn’t stop, you kept thinking about his mouth on your pussy.
Minho turned off from his cell phone every security camera in his house and directed you to a room, which didn’t look fancy enough to be his main room, but still looked spacious, nice and clean.
“Take off your clothes, sweetie” he commanded, so desperate, his hands on his hips waiting as he gasped for breath.
You obeyed him in a heartbeat, you felt so dirty filled with a voracious sexual hunger. Minho watched you, biting his lip eagerly until he saw you naked in front of him.
“Fuck” he sighed breathlessly, lust in person, so young and full of life, with soft round breasts and hard nipples, “Lie down and spread your legs, I’m gonna fucking eat your pretty pussy.”
His gaze was so penetrating and in trembling, excited steps you did his bidding, a command so rough and tactless it made your clit vibrate.
He moved closer to you, admiring you in that position with a smug smile, so submissive and begging to be serviced. He wanted to hear you ask for it. However, Minho resisted no more and pulled down his pants and underwear with a tug, you caught a glimpse of his big and taut cock so erect before he got on his knees facing the edge of the bed and in front of your pussy. You sighed, he was just as you expected.
Minho bit his lip at the sight of your exposed lubricated vulva, which throbbed in untouched pleasure.
“Look at you” he began to say amused, “the little slut so horny, tell me how badly you want it, say it now.”
You gasped as you felt the fingertip of his index caress your clit, your cheeks were beginning to burn in embarrassment, wanting to tell him that he was just as needy for pleasuring someone younger who was not his wife, such an old man horny for the forbidden.
Minho brought his face close to your pussy finally with you feeling his heavy hot breath and breathing, you shivered, watching him with your elbows resting on the mattress, he saw your whole body perfectly from that angle.
At this point you had no dignity, sex with two older, married men in a period of days were your biggest mistakes. So begging Lee Minho didn’t sound so bad after all.
“I-I want you to eat me, Mr. Lee.”
Minho smiled widely.
“Magic word” he requested, his eyebrows raised as if he was reminding something to a kid.
“Please” you whispered haltingly.
Minho gently pinched your clit before withdrawing his hand and taking care of your sensitive spot with his mouth. You moaned, small shocks of pleasure filled your body at the sensation of his warm and steady tongue making circles on your clit, then taking it over completely, biting and sucking hard, sticking his soft lips on the skin of your pussy. You arched your back and reflexively brought one of your hands to his soft, straight hair as you struggled to lean back with your other arm because you didn’t want to let him out of your sight, he looked so attractive with his face buried in your core. Minho left his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly and with the other he caressed the rest of your pussy, your sticky wet labia until he reached down to tease your entrance with his thick thumb, subtly inserting it making you sigh in desperation.
He finally lowered his mouth slowly to the rest of your cunt, licking and sucking your folds until he inserted two of his strong fingers into you, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise, Minho smiled with his lips pressed against you. You were a mess, you had never had your pussy eaten with so much attention and patience, you could tell he knew what he was doing and exactly which spots to touch, lick, nibble and suck, you were going crazy; most guys your age would lick senselessly and without a rhythm, with their exhausted jaws wanting to make you orgasm, they were inexperienced, they would be offended if you told them which spots to touch and you had to beg for oral sex… but Lee Minho, the expert Minho didn’t have to take any orders, he was giving them and he was making you see fucking heaven.
His fingers were filling your pussy so well like no one ever had before, digging deep inside you, your walls squeezing his digits so satisfyingly as he feasted himself on your delectable young cunt. Minho’s poor, exposed cock was on the verge of intense ejaculation, but he had incredible control of his body and wasn't going to cum until he was inside you.
You whimpered as you felt his restless tongue inside you as he removed his fingers from you, his nose bumping against your pussy as he tasted your perfect entrance, staining his chin and mouth, being strong evidence of how good he was making you feel.
After sizzling whimpers and your pussy being treated so specially, you were about to cum and Minho sensed it, so he replaced his tongue once more with his fingers, pulling away from you to see your beautiful flustered face about to climax.
You saw him, his lips and chin glossy from you, Minho was slightly flushed, his ears were bright red, he looked so tender and dominant at the same time, penetrating your insides with his fingers.
“C’mon, sweetie, cum, I know you’re about to do it.”
You were no longer thinking clearly, the tension of your orgasm was so strong that you frowned uncomprehendingly, your vision blurred slightly, his touches felt for a few seconds a couple of times better than before and in a moderate whimper, you let yourself collapse in an intense orgasm, shuddering and battling with the irregularity of your breathing.
You dropped your body onto the bed, tired as you relaxed your legs as you felt the absence of his digits in you. You were tired, satisfied.
Minho stood with a smile, wiping his residue of you from his mouth and pulled his body closer to you. You were recovering a little, your orgasm had been so intense that you didn’t react to seeing him this close.
“Open your mouth” he ordered.
You looked into his eyes and noticed his fingers heading for your mouth, you took them, sucking on them, tasting his skin and your own orgasm coated on them.
Minho kept watching you with a half smile, so proud to have you like this. He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, brought his face close to yours and played with your lips, running his thumb wildly across them. You were again aroused by the heavy breaths of the two of you and his incredibly dominant look over your body.
Minho pulled away, he was so hot that he stripped off his black shirt quickly, revealing his muscular body. You bit your lip, seeing his body and his thick swollen cock.
You magically regained your strength again and sat up, so fascinated and attracted by his big dick, your eyes sparkled as your brain only worked to think that you had to touch him.
Minho saw your intentions and didn’t stop you, he let you do it, you looked tender with your eyes slightly widened in admiration as you moved towards his cock. You stroked his abds and moved your hand down to his recently shaved and stubbly pubic area that detonated in visible veins his erect member. You looked so fascinated, as if it was all an attraction you could touch.
Your pussy throbbed, still wet in your recent orgasm as you felt his cock between your hands, it was big and thick, so visibly pretty that you were dazzled. Minho moaned, his cock was so sensitive, leaking precum, he had small, slight sensations of an orgasm but had not fully ejaculated his load, his balls ached and his body was tense, that was why he was going to fuck you all at once but he let himself be carried away by your gentle caresses.
You slid your hand down his length, staring into his eyes, Minho was doing everything to look hard and hold his position, but he was dying to whimper and fall to your touches. And, when he saw you were about to bring your mouth close, he stopped you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to do it, but that he was eager to unload every drop into you one by one.
“Enough. Turn around and let me see your ass.”
You looked at him confused, which he intimidatingly raised his eyebrows waiting for you to react quickly.
You got into that position, squealing with excitement knowing that he was going to fuck you, still in the midst of the thrill, you wondered to yourself if you should ask him to use a condom, you didn’t want to end up making a big mistake. Bigger than fucking a married man.
Minho pulled your body with ease, making you stand up from the bed and letting your legs bump on the edge of it.
Minho took his cock, also debating whether to reach for a condom or fuck you with his raw cock, arousing him to immense levels at the thought of filling your entire pussy with every drop of his cum. He bit his lip, teasing your entrance with his bare glans, fantasizing about the idea of making you his, his heart was racing, he was about to do it, fuck you unprotected to feel your insides at first contact. You wiggled your ass while you arched your back ready to be fuck, needy and softly moaning until Minho spanked you hard twice unexpectedly, making you groan in surprise and excitement.
“Fuck” he sighed, “Why don’t you say anything, huh? You’re so fucking needy begging for my cock, you want me to fuck you like this without protection, don’t you?”
Minho spoke, in a thick voice that made your core rumble. The idea of his cock twitching inside you unprotected suddenly felt so good, you turned to see him, letting lust win again for both of you.
“Yes, please, Mr. Lee, fuck me.”
The thought filled his body and cock again, rubbing his cock against your folds to lubricate him and then gently thrusting his unprotected glans into you.
“Say it again” he ordered, the vein in his neck showing.
“Fuck me, please.”
His tip felt so good but you were desperate for his full length filling you up. Minho smiled at your needy expression. You raised your ass higher, the thought of the risk quickened his heart more, Minho was fucking fertile, his wife got pregnant as she ground his cock and cum in her folds and after she took the pill. And he could swear you were too, so young, panting for sex, so naive without measuring the consequences, Minho was blinded by pleasure and temptation that licking his lips he thought amused that he was going to get you pregnant so you would stop behaving like a little whore with any man asking for unprotected sex. He was going to teach you a lesson and at the same time he was going to fuck you like they had never fucked you before, all those immature guys who presumed to fuck you. He was going to make you remember and never forget.
Minho slid all the way in, stretching out your entrance until you felt his balls brush against your body and his tip touch the deepest part of you, caressing your cervix. You whimpered in pain and pleasure, it hurt like the first time. He grunted in pleasure, you were squeezing him so well, making him think for a second if you were a virgin or it was just his swollen, pumping cock that had to hold out so hard.
One of Minho’s hands went to your waist squeezing you tightly the other one grabbed your hips to finally push your body. At first he pushed your body, to peruse your wet open hole giving room for his cock and how his raw cock slid smoothly into you, the skin of his veiny cock coated in your glistening liquid, sliding in and out of your pussy, Minho was going to make sure he left every drop of his cum in you to teach you a fucking lesson, to let everyone know you were his, to make you remember the day when you were so well fucked and accepted his exposed cock in you without thinking.
Minho smiled broadly, starting to ram you deep, moving your body with each intense, rough thrust, making you whimper, you were still adjusting to his size but for now your body was starting to ache, combining with pleasure.
He gasped, your walls were so tight squeezing him so torturously that he could cum weakly in moments.
“What a pretty and tight pussy you have, kitten, it feels so fucking good.”
Minho kept pounding your pussy hard, weakening your body, feeling his large size protrude into your lower abdomen; he noticed how you were slightly desperate not knowing where to put your hands, so he quickly acted and grabbed your forearms with force exalting the veins of his strong hands, leaving you helpless at his disposal, with his cock filling every inch of you, and even more, your poor entrance and interior was starting to be attacked by Minho’s cock as he accelerated his rhythm, moving his hips on you so satisfyingly until reaching your G-spot, finally you managed to combine the pain with your pleasure filling you completely, you couldn’t stop whimpering, each intense impact of his pelvis against your body clouded your sight more and more.
Minho was panting and overbearing to have you at his disposal, listening to you whimpering, his ego went to his head, he knew he was good at sex and fucked hard and he did it so rough that it left you shaking and sore.
Minho kept up his intense pace, thrusting hard into you until you could hear your skins collapsing and your soaking wet pussy sliding on his cock, you were both mesmerized, Minho could count your encounter as one of his best sexual experiences, the inside of your pussy squishing on his cock was an heavenly sensation. Minho hummed in pleasure, finding your submissive position so arousing; you were in a slightly uncomfortable position as he was holding you by your arms so tightly, but the sensation of being slightly motionless made you experience sex like you never had before, Minho was making you explore so many new sensations that you whimpered in pleasure with soft tears forming in your glistening eyes.
“Mmm, you’re taking so well my cook, kitten, look at you like a fucking good slut. You like being fuck hard, don’t you?”
Your whole body got hot listening to him talk dirty, you could listen to him for hours while his cock is shoved in your pussy.
“Y-yes, Min-” he pounded you harder, “Mr. Lee!”
You babbled in a squeak oh my god, enjoying being fucked hard like you had never experienced before.
It was feeling so good but at the same time it was like you were being split in two, your face was flushed red as you were so close to your orgasm. You didn’t know how he was doing it but it didn’t feel like a fuck where he was mindlessly penetrating you, his movements were frantic but the intensity of the perfect control of his hips blurred your vision and took you to the edge.
You felt his cock throbbing in your core as your near orgasm squeezed it slightly tighter, almost milking him dry, however, Minho in one swift movement grabbed both your arms with one hand while with the other went in search of your hair, to pull it back and whisper to you in a husky voice, “Come here.”
You did your best to lift your sore body, with a little of his help, and press your naked back against his bare chest.
“Cum, little slut,” he growled in your ear, grabbing your neck with one of his hands while the other held your quivering body in your mons venus, his nimble fingers stimulating your sensitive clit, “Cum all over my fucking cock and I’m gonna cum all inside you to make you mine. I bet no little brat has ever fucked you the way I do” his lips were glued to your ear, you heard every gasping breath and felt the vibration of his voice on your back as you were pinned to his chest, you shook in response, causing him to let out a smug chuckle in your ear, with the ache in your abdomen from his cock and from your second intense orgasm, “You just love when I make you cum, don’t you?”
“Y-yees” you replied raggedly through the constant battle with your breathing and racing heart, the edge of your orgasm, and his intense thrusts into your pussy that made your body move, blurrily seeing the arm veins that wrapped around your neck.
Suddenly Minho whimpered in your ear, tightening his previous soft grip on your neck.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum too. I’m gonna fill your pussy with my cum you dirty slut.”
His ramming continued and he began to lightly choke you, more tears graced your face, the pain and pleasure was getting so intense that you collapsed again more fiercely and broke free from the growing knot in your stomach, falling into a rumbling orgasm leaving you shuddering and lifeless.
Minho also cum at the sensation of your orgasm collapsing on him, satisfying you audibly as you heard his loud moan and filling the inside of your vagina with every drop of his loaded cock just as he had promised himself. You felt his warm shot into you still with his cock inside and a tired Minho rested his chin on your shoulder as he slowly released his grip on your neck.
He pulled out of you leaving your dripping entrance.
“Let me see your pussy full of my cum, kitten” Minho ordered breathlessly.
Tired, you sat on the bed and spread your legs, you moaned at the tingle of the fluids slipping into you and Minho smiled, to pull you close and give you a short but tender and passionate kiss on your lips. Your first kiss, after the dirty act.
“Aw, you look so tired, you’ve never been fucked this hard before, my babygirl?” he spoke almost mockingly.
݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♡🧸ྀི ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
You couldn't stop for a while, you lived a double life entangled in the guilt and strong arms of two men. They were both sex gods so ready to please you, they knew what they were doing and it drove you crazy.
There were many differences between the two, but you loved fucking them and having fun with both equally, with the same intensity. Neither of them knew that you were fucking them at the same time, honestly you were there for a good time, not to promise them that you would always belong to them, when they already belonged to someone else in the first place.
With Hyunjin, your encounters became serious when he returned to the topic of not making you cum and promised to do so, renting a penthouse exclusively for the two of you where you could both sin without a problem. That place became a witness to your dirty and fateful encounters.
Hyunjin was softer and more tender with you, he loved foreplay and you deciding what to do, what to touch, he put your needs before his, anyway he knew you were going to please him and that was enough for his miserable and needy slightly mature body.
You loved the contrast of the two of them, some days you would see Hyunjin and others Minho, you'd text for hours, have fun sending each other risqué messages and then take out every sorrow and frustration on you and your young, docile, libido filled body. You loved that with Hyunjin you were soft, he gave you the sweetest kisses and you could be in control… but with Minho everything was very different, he gave you orders for everything and left your body sore.
Hyunjin liked you, because he could fill himself with as much sexual pleasure as he wanted, just like Minho, you seemed to have no limits.
That night you felt guilty when he informed you that he had rented the place just for the two of you, but you decided to accept it cynically. He showered you with expensive gifts and filled your bank account with money, all while giving you some of the best sex. You didn't know where to put the gifts or hide them, so he gave you the keys to the penthouse so you could leave all his gifts and use them once you were alone, without your sister asking where you got a Cartier bracelet or new handbags from the latest Versace collection. You noticed that with his gifts, Hyunjin was looking for something more lasting which alerted you a lot, but then you forgot about it when you arrived at the place with absolutely nothing to worry about, you both had developed the ability to be soulless and cynical monsters, guiltless enough to enjoy sexual pleasures with the city light outside the big windows as your witnesses.
Hyunjin always made sure to kiss you before initiating any sexual act, his soft lips always lived close to your face and body in every moment you shared alone. He loved to touch you and slide his hand under your dress to caress and take care of your pussy. His deft fingers would easily slide into your already lubricated area and he would gently thrust into you. You both undressed and he continued to caress your sensitive pussy until he guided you to the bed still kissing you. You enjoyed his kisses so much that you both dropped on the mattress and masturbated his cock, you adored the feel of his quivering dick, Hyunjin drove you wild that you couldn't say no to his adorable face begging for sex.
Your encounters were like this, on lonely nights when you got overly turned on and asked him to lie down on the bed, Hyunjin with an adorable and wide smile would obey, in contrast to his colossal cock intimidatingly wagging at you as it was exposed. He was also pleasurably hurting your pussy every time you fucked. He was so handsome you could eat him out, you unloaded all that energy as you sat on his erect cock, grinding on it and sliding your wet folds into his stiffness, making him whimper.
“Mmm, fuck, it feels so good, baby, you love my cock, don't you, baby?” moaned Hyunjin taking hold of your breasts tightly and massaging them.
You nodded frantically in response, Hyunjin loved it when you had fun with his cock, putting it in your mouth, on your pussy, while riding him, masturbating him even with lazy footjob on his cock when watching a movie and the two of you are at the far ends of the couch spaced apart.
You continued, sliding up and down, rubbing all over your wet pussy making pressure on his cock and his exposed abdomen, panting, and seeing him so appetizing and handsome. You moved closer to him, as he himself had made you an addite to his lips and you kissed him, the sensation of his mouth working against yours made your pussy throb more and you remembered how good his lips felt on your pussy.
Pulling away from him, you looked at him with your huge bambi eyes that he adores and said:
“Can I sit on your face, Hyun?”
Hyunjin almost cum before your innocent gaze rubbing on his cock as you ask for fucking his face.
You knew Hyunjin wouldn't say no to you. And then he would cuddle you to keep chatting about his whole life, you liked him, you weren't going to deny it, he was handsome, interesting, kind… but he was married, you wanted to keep it to just sex without feelings, at least until your summer was over.
Minho, on the other hand, debated long and hard whether to continue seeing you and ended up giving in completely, offering the cabin he had a few hours outside the city as your main place of pleasure.
You didn't feel proud, you felt dirty and Minho always reminded you of that, he loved to talk dirty and sometimes referred to you with sweet names and sometimes blurted out in excitement somewhat derogatory names, both of which made you horny anyway.
Nights with Minho were darker, he didn't make sure to kiss you before doing any act, he loved to tease you and watch every reaction, whispering dirty and defiantly, “Wasn't this what you wanted?”
You loved to tease him and misbehave only to receive your painful punishment. It was as if you were balancing very well the sweet sex with Hyunjin, with the hard and painful one Minho was giving you.
He was so forward and a total pervert, at first he liked you to call him Mr. Lee, but as he became more confident he asked you to call him daddy. He liked to feel in control and the absolute authority of your body and pleasure.
Sometimes you would get very proud and try to play his same game, making comments that you knew made his blood boil and hurt his ego, throwing at him in a mocking tone, “And you? You're so needy too, daddy, look at you, your wife's pussy isn't enough so you come to taste mine.”
Minho paused, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, letting his heavy hand fall on your exposed and sensitive vagina, slapping it hard and making you cry out in pain. Minho hated talking about his wife when he was with you and hated it even more when you talked about her, unlike Hyunjin who used you as his therapist to tell every complaint he had.
Minho stood up, coming close to your face to slap it too. That night he was so furious, and not exactly because of you, but he was taking it out unfairly on you. He was fed up with his wife's glamorous life, her fame was starting to fall on his shoulders as it was starting to affect his children, which hurt him, they were the most precious thing to Minho.
He moved your body with ease, putting your body over his lap to begin spanking you.
But those were the unusual nights, what Minho liked about you was that you never seemed to get tired, your body never got full of him, apparently, you could take round after round until you ran him dry, he loved to call you derogatory names to remind you how unbelievably slutty you were behaving and in the end he didn't talk much like Hyunjin did, Minho showed his caring and affection by making you dinner and talking softly about him, though he was extremely reserved, though to you… something about Minho caught your attention so much, for days you wanted to deny it, but you liked him slightly more than Hyunjin.
But you lived trapped in the sexual fantasies of two men, you didn't really believe them capable of seeing you with fondness or affection. Two men, running away from home and families just so they could fill your pussy and fuck you releasing every sexual frustration on them. You were their little doll, their fucktoy.
But like everything, your little empire fell little by little once Minho was starting to suspect that you were also sleeping with another man, but he was manic, trying to figure out if that man could be Chan. Also Hyunjin's wife, Yeji began to suspect him, he was late, he didn't come to sleep, she went to designer stores and the workers kindly told her if she wanted another pair of the same garment, bag or shoes that her husband had already bought. But Hyunjin had a very huge problem, as he was slightly falling in love with you. He couldn't help it.
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chase it
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?
warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?
his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?
he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.
the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.
tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.
“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”
“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?
“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. “you mind if i shower real quick?”
“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.
“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”
“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.
if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.
if you feel it, chase it.
he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.
“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”
tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.
you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.
“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.
“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.
tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.
“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.
“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.
“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.
“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.
“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”
“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.
“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.
“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.
“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.
“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”
“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”
“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.
“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.
“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.
“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.
“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”
“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”
“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”
“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.
“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.
you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.
“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.
“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”
you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.
“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”
“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.
“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”
“okay.” you nodded.
“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”
you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.
“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.
you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”
“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”
“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”
you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”
you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.
“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.
“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.
“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.
he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.
he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.
“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.
“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”
“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.
“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”
“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”
“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”
“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.
the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.
“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”
“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.
“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”
“i’m yours.” you mumbled.
“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”
you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.
“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.
“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.
the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.
“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.
“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”
“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”
“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.
“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”
“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”
“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”
“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.
the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.
the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.
“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.
“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.
“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.
“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.
“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”
“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.
“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”
“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”
“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”
you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”
the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.
#spotify#glen powell#glen powell imagine#glen powell smut#twisters#twisters movie#tyler owens#anyone but you#top gun maverick#top gun hangman#jake seresin#lana del rey#lana del ray aesthetic#born to die#hollywood
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ooh baby, ooh baby, i’m in love | eren jaeger.
the note 𐦍 i’ve recently been thinking about a successful, older (early to mid thirties), soft spoken eren who lives to spoil the woman of his dreams—so i’m gonna share this with y’all too. i’m actually just projecting our relationship. not proud of the ending but wtv. part two here. inspired by west coast, lana del rey.
contains 𐦍 nsfw, fem!reader, stupidly rich!eren, established relationship, vaginal sex, mating press, cervix kisses, use of pet names (princess, baby, my wife, the usual yk), unprotected sex, breeding, squirting, softie eren, mild body worship, size kink, hand on stomach while fucking mhm, i love you’s exchanged, praise kink, eren talks to your pussy while he’s in it, i’m thinking black reader but it’s all subjective babes: if you like it, read it!!
truth be told, eren jaeger doesn’t believe he has much to live for.
he’s kept his circle small for all of these ongoing years; with the occasional extension of acquaintances from work dinners, or christmas parties—though, he preferred to slip away from such events when eyes weren’t so…watchful. he likes to think his social battery has drained over the course of his life. looking back at his angstful teenage years, fourteen year old most likely wouldn’t recognize the person he is today.
his once intense nature that resembled an overbearing presence of loud determination turned calm—steadfast and slow to visible anger (with the exception of a passive aggressive comment here and there from simple annoyance). the short hair that once barely covered his nape now fell to his broad shoulders, however, he preferred to keep it up—maintaining appearances while keeping it convenient. the smaller five foot six body grew to an intimidating lean six foot four instead.
however, those things were quite trivial; he knew such changes happened with growth and eventual maturity.
but for a significant chunk of his life, eren was never the greatest with women. he was oblivious—blind to the wandering eyes full of admiration from girls in his classes and workplace—and nose deep in his books. he wouldn’t rest until he was on top of his grades; which he had no problem with. His emphasis on success failed him when it came to the dating scene; to say the least he was shy—and married to his work as well.
but on top of all this, eren was a patient man, and good things always comes to those who wait.
and when a dangerously beautiful woman comes wandering into his life on the street outside of an office dinner he gracefully slipped away from, asking him for an extra five dollars to help pay for her cab home from a no-show date—a woman that has him battling the slew of warning alarms sounding away in his usually zen mind and redefining what he thought was himself—he knows that he’s waited long enough.
simply put, he’s a man of his craft; dedicated to two things. his work, and his wife.
His wife—the phrase has his brain melting into pure grey matter that spills out his body in the form of love. To even think he has the opportunity to refer to you as such is priceless in itself. eren didn’t believe he could love—let alone love this hard. you ask him to run, he’ll say how far; jump—how high?
you’ve changed him—ever since he offered to drop you off in his sleek black mercedes benz parked somewhere by the valet and you giggled in response, saying ‘i’m not usually so trusting of strangers’ will the slightest glint of curiosity in your bright eyes.
and somewhere in between the months, his ten hour workdays turned to six, important software development meetings got pushed back for convenience, the accumulating days of paid time off started being used, for once, his assistant could do their job, and his new focus was you.
diamonds and pearls, nails and hair, dinners on boats and vacations on beaches, shopping sprees on his black card and all of his devotion towards you—only you.
eren…he’s a worshipper—it doesn’t take much for him to get on his knees for you. he’s not ashamed, if anything, he’s proud. he likes to say that anything that’s his, is yours; so who are you to deny what he gives you?
that’s another thing he oh so loves about you—you readily take everything he can offer. you let him take care of you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way; you’re his wife after all.
his wife, his wife.
“my wife…” eren mumbles to himself as he buries his face into the crook of your perfumed neck. the pronounced scent makes his head spin, you can’t fathom how in love with you this man is. as his large hands engulf your own, he’s met with the texture of your wedding ring that cost him over twenty grand, the one you cried over when you saw it in his hands offering it to you—but eren doesn’t think it does his adoration for you enough justice.
he prefers to show you.
while there’s no doubt that material items and dream homes are things you like to receive—there’s nothing better than the way he has you now, one leg resting atop his shoulder and the other barely slung around his waist as he steadily ruts his hips into your own.
oh, how could you be so beautiful? splayed out on the bed like a wicked man’s deepest desires and dreams; the one he secretly lusts for from across the room with no hopes to introduce himself because you’re just so out of his league. your hair is messily draped over the silk pillows, all remnants of your lipgloss/lipstick gone from your parted lips and instead smudged on his own, the gold necklace with his diamond initial was falling into the dip in your neck, and you were gazing at him with need. pure, heartfelt need.
your body arches towards him, manicured hands trailing towards your own chest to play with your nipples that hardened from the low temperature of the room. “i need you eren, make me feel you—i want it.” your voice is smooth, accompanied with a small whine that reminds him just how spoiled you are, and how it’s all his fault.
but he couldn’t care less—you deserve it for wandering into his life to make you his own.
“i know princess, i know.” he knows damn well you need him, he knows, he knows—he’s repeating it as he peppers a kiss to your jewelled ankle before pressing down on the back of your thigh to steady himself.
eren fucks like he loves—endlessly and hard.
maybe that’s why the way he bullies your pussy while bottoming out has you grasping at the threads of the sheets and chanting his name like a hymn followed by prayer. he lets your cunt feel every bit of him, the ridges—veins, down to the last inch. he’s terrifyingly big, another thing you love about him.
his dick feels like it’s mushing your insides, curving up against your spongy walls that oh so desperately tighten around him. every thrust is harder than his last, and the way the trimmed hair resting above his base brushes against your clit provides all the extra stimulation that has your head rolling to the side. your uncontrolled moans turn to sobs when you feel his tip tickle your cervix—and boy does it make him a rejuvenated man.
“look at me.” his words barely register as syllables in your clouded mind—you keep your head turned, eyes focused shut as your body shakes upwards from the fervour of his unrelenting tempo. there’s a lot of things eren can have, and you not watching the way his slick covered dick slips in and out of your weeping pussy isn’t one of them. “you have to look at me pretty girl.” his tone is soft but firm, thick fingers taking your chin in his hands and turning you towards him once again.
“see how well you’re taking me? all of it.” he gives you a million dollar smile, hinting for you to watch where the two of you connect. “your pretty cunt just wants it so bad, right?”
“oh, eren…” it’s always a sudden surprise how soiled his mouth can get at times like this. heeding his request, you watch his cock disappear in your folds—and you sight of it has you fluttering around him like a whore.
“you were made for me, weren’t you? prettiest sight i’ve ever seen.” you’ve heard his praises a multitude of times, having him ramble on about fucking you so much your walls moulded to fit him like a tight glove, only that now, he’s saying it to your pussy instead.
“only you ‘ren, was made just for you.” you babble out, feverishly bucking your hips up to meet his ruts.
when your eyes finally rip away from below and back up to his face, the look he wears has your cunt melting like putty. with furrowed brows, a dip in his forehead and a bitten lip, he watches your body move with each fuck. even in such a sinful position, you were just so divine.
almost subconsciously, his ringed hand moves from your hip and over to your torso, gliding over your pierced belly and stopped at your lower stomach, “I’m right here baby.” gently, he applies pressure to the spot, making your eyes blow open as you moan in response. the feeling gives you butterflies—ones that go straight to your clit and stimulate the nerves in your shaky legs.
“cummin—eren i’m cumming!” you’re rambling, scrambling to push his hand away from your belly, but it’s all too late, and eren knows that well. how could he not? your body is a temple, he’s explored every inch of it, and the sudden vice grip your walls have you him and periodic throb of your cunt is all too telling. your orgasm is drawn out, legs spazzing around your entranced husband, “mm, oh-fuck! yesyesyes eren, don’t stop!”
oh, aren’t you just perfect. his eyes soften when he watches how your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, only to capture it in a languid and sloppy kiss, teeth grazing your plump lips and sucking on them like a sweet. you whine he pulls himself away from your body completely, instead he takes the time to tack his thumb to your puffy clit, rubbing feint circles and the occasional attempted heart on the bud. he always does this, coaxing out the last of your orgasm with nimble fingers that you dream about
“you gonna let me take good care of you?” he asks softly between hushed breaths while grabbing hold of both your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders. helplessly, all you can do is nod; you’re in a trance at the very sight of him. his defined torso is illuminated by the back light of one of the many lamps in your bedroom, his hair is slipping from its captive elastic band, the grip of his hands on your ankles sends searing hot pulses straight to your sensitive clit.
he gives himself a few good pumps, sliding his length between your folds. your wetness aids him in bottoming out once again, but your sensitivity has you squirming in his hold. “gotta stay put baby.” he marvels, talking you into submission, “that’s my girl.”
his praises are followed by the shift of his hands down to the back of your thighs, they gently rub the plush skin before pushing them down to meet your chest. while there are some circumstances where looking down at you sparks something within him, eren likes to be eye to eye with you when he’s balls deep—turns him on even more being in such close proximity with such a captivating woman.
you squeal from the uncomfortable burn in your hamstring from being folded in half with the additional feeling of eren’s body weight on your own. you swear that you can feel your heart palpitating in your ears as you feverishly clench around him. “it’s too much! can’t take it, can’t take it!”
“of course you can, you know you can, your pussy takes everything i give it.” eren speaks between juts, pressing your knees to your shoulder blades as he pistons into you without any regard for decency. his thrust feel like a hammer, knocking your body into the memory foam mattress you begged him to buy.
stars cloud your eyes as he wraps himself tighter around you, head in the side of your neck as he peppers kisses across your skin. your pants and gasps are loud, amplifying the sounds of slapping skin and balls hitting the fat of your ass. his favourite part is when you dig your nails into his back, leaving cresent shaped imprints and jagged lines across it like a painter with a canvas; scars of your love.
deep groans fill your ear, soft and sweet; all eren can ramble about is you—how good you feel, how quick you can make him unravel like a ball of string, how lucky he is to have you in his life—the list goes on.
“i love you—fuck, i love you so much baby, you treat me so well.” with his declaration of love, his pace seems to increase, fucking you dumb and leaving you to heave for whatever air is left to breathe.
“i love you too, so much.” your eyes scramble around in your haywire brain, overloaded by the repeated feeling of the jackhammering going on in your walls and the non-stop cervix kisses he gives you. “it’s all yours, eren; you deserve it, you deserve this pussy. you married this, have it.”
eren jaeger doesn’t believe he’s deserving of much; has he earned things? yes. but you…laying beneath him, telling him he deserves you? it makes him never want to leave—not that he would dream of doing so in the first place.
he does deserve it—your words make his brain malfunction. he deserves it. fuck, you might just be the death of him.
you’re crying for him, grasping at any part of his body possible to get him closer to you than physically possible. your tighten around his base once more, and your hand flies down to messily prod at your clit in an attempt to play with it.
meanwhile, eren’s unrelenting pace falters; that man knows he’s going to cum soon, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it with you. so he pleads with you to give him one more—telling you that you’ve got another one bundled up in there for him. to say it’s true is unknown, but your body listens to eren, and miraculously whatever he believes will happen comes to fruition.
but your body is delicate—everyone knows delicate things break under pressure. with the unrelenting strain and stretch his dick gives your walls, the tight feeling in your core, and aching numbness in your legs, your buildup feels much more violent—ready to release all built up tension given to you by your husband.
“eren—keep on going like this and i’m gonna make a mess!” you fuss around, hand reaching to gently push his torso away in fear you may soil the freshly made sheets.
“that’s the goal.” he states as a matter of factly, brows furrowing as a suppressed groan bubbles up from his chest at the thought: pretty little face going stupid and clawing at anything within reach as you writhe and cum all over his torso and lower body. you can’t make him budge now that he’s a determined man.
his strokes grow sloppy but powerful, curved cock repeatedly ramming into your spongy spot that force your plush walls to grip around him, “you’re eating me up here, love.” he mumbles, moaning into your mouth in the disguise of a messy kiss.
the last roll that tips you over the rocky edge is a shaky one, the last one he could give before emptying himself into you. it’s thick and hot and you feel it fill you as you twitch underneath him and cover his abdomen with your juices. wordlessly, his hands reach for yours as he stills; soft lips peppering the lining of skin on your cheek.
eren jaeger knows that change is inevitable—it comes with time. but eren jaeger also knows one thing will stay the same; his love and adoration for the pretty girl laying below him.
#eren jaeger x reader#eren x reader#eren smut#eren jaeger smut#aot smut#aot x reader#snk x reader#snk smut#eren yeager x reader
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heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)
this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭
The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin
thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3
warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)
"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."
This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.
You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.
"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.
Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.
"Oh." Was all you replied with.
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."
"Of course." He smiled.
He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.
That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.
"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.
You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.
You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.
Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."
Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.
"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."
"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.
It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.
"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.
"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.
"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."
"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.
"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."
"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.
~
The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.
After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.
"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."
"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."
"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."
"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.
He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."
You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."
PART TWO HERE
THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭
taglist: @katsukis1wife @sungprotector @seung-mine @favieee @soephiphanymain @z4hir @minnieslover @kjr-army @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs
#stray kids#kpop#skz#skz scenarios#kpop oneshots#skz imagines#kpop senarios#skz smut#kpop smut#skz stay#skz x reader#skz fanfic#hyunjin fanfic#skz hyunjin#hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin stray kids#hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin x oc#straykids angst#skz angst#skz asks#skz au#skz fluff
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Build-A-Bride.
Enji Todoroki X F! Reader (smut)
A/N: i can't stop writing broken enji... he's so depressed and lonely i LOVE it ^_^ isn't he just so dreamy? all downtrodden and sad? anyways this is so half-assed, sorry!
Tags: dub-con, forced/arranged marriage (sort of), age gap, mostly plot tbh (minimal smut), brief mentions of dehumanization, breeding, creampie, p in v, size difference, language barrier
Wordcount: 1.8k
Women don't like divorcés. It's a mark of failure. It brings down one's stock value. Enji's mistakes with Rei were numerous. He knew it was for the best, that he had nothing to fight for when she had the papers mailed to him. Why would he argue with her about it? The kids had all grown up and moved out. Their assets were easily separable. She did not ask for much in the split, and even if she did Enji would have given it up without pushing back.
He was a man defeated. What point would there be in chasing after Rei again? He did not love her; not truly, at least, and she certainly did not love him. They had been living stagnantly ever since she was released from the hospital. It would be a feat for them to even speak to each other over breakfast. Idle chat about the weather or what their adult children were doing was a rare treat.
Enji's life had slowed significantly. No children to fill his too-big-for-one-man house and no woman to be kept company by. Work had slowed down. Younger heroes took the top spots, slowly but surely. Even his own son was predicted to soon surpass him. Old timers, or "Golden-Age Heroes", as the media titled them, were losing fame and fortune alike. No longer the hot commodity, old was out, new was in.
He expected it, really. His goal was to be the number one hero, and he was for a while. Was it his dream to remain number one? He didn't have time to think about it before he got knocked down to a measly third place in the ranks.
He had thrown so much of himself into the hero life. It crossed his mind a few times, it all ending, but he never realized that it would come crashing down so soon. What friends he had, using the term very lightly, were less than helpful in his condition.
None less so than Hawks, of course. That damned fool.
Keigo had been dragging Enji out to these annoyingly quaint cafés for a while now. He'd force piles of biscotti and scones onto Enji's plate while blabbing on about some new excursion of his or the other, taking up the prime hours of Enji's day in the name of socializing.
Seldom it was that Enji left the impromptu meet-ups with anything but slight annoyance at best and utter exhaustion at worst. He could hardly pay attention to the meaningless drivel Keigo threw his way. Sometimes it was talk of the current hero ranks, which Enji immediately tuned out. Other times it was about a concert or movie Keigo was going to.
Lately, though, Keigo had an interest in trying to play matchmaker for Enji.
"You should really get out there," he said, smug little smile plastered on his cheeky face while he sipped his espresso. "You aren't getting younger."
Enji's response was the same as always, in that he was too busy and too old to be worrying about such things. "I do not have time to woo a woman like a schoolboy. I'm fine where I am," he responded with his arms resting on the café's comparably small table.
Keigo chuckled, curling his lips upwards. "You can only spend so many nights with your right hand, Endeavor."
"Shut your damned mouth."
"If you won't let me set you up with someone," Keigo said, not taking Enji's gruff tone seriously, as usual, "there is another option."
Enji pressed his mouth closed tightly, eyes narrowing into a judgmental squint. "It had better not be online dating."
Defensive hands flew up. "No, no. You've made that pretty clear, man. I'm talking about getting, like, a mail-order bride or whatever they're called."
"You do realize how much that sounds like human trafficking, right?"
"It does not! They still do it, you know. There are websites and everything."
Enji sighed and leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling. The idea sounded horrible. God only knew how sketchy something like that would be, and besides, how horrible were the moral implications of that? Some old bastard like himself purchasing a young girl like a farm animal.
It wasn't completely unheard of. Plenty colleagues of his had foreign brides ordered for them. Even his own cousins had done similar things. Hell, he wasn't far off from trying it out to get the perfect quirk marriage before he found Rei.
But now? It sounded cruel. Unnecessary. He already resented himself for how he treated his family— he didn't need to ruin the life of some other woman too.
"I am not going to order a wife," he said, voice strained, "like a spare part off of eBay. Do you not see how horrible that would look on me?"
Keigo waved his hand dismissively, unbothered. “It’s not like that. These women are looking for a chance at a better life," he explained before teasingly adding, "just like the lonely men who send for them."
Enji stared at him, trying to decipher if he was serious. “You really think I'm desperate enough to buy some random woman?"
"Don't think of it like 'buying.' Think of it as rescuing. How will the press feel about that, hm? Imagine the headline: ‘Endeavor, the hero with a heart, saves a foreign damsel in distress by bringing her to Japan to live a new life of riches and mind-blowing sex!'"
"You disgust sometimes, you little brat."
Keigo leaned over the table, teeth flashing briefly as he spoke. "Just think about it, okay? I'll send you some links tonight." He got up and pushed his chair in with his foot. "Besides, I'm tired of being your only friend. These little 'dates' of ours are cutting majorly into my work."
Keigo had compiled a ridiculously long list of websites and companies that specialized in international marriage deals. He had definitely committed to the bit too much or he had researched this topic heavily before presenting it to Enji via text.
Either way, Enji peered at his cell phone screen in distaste. Link after link, scrolling through the masterlist Hawks compiled, he just felt more unsure of the idea. The names of the sites left a strange feeling in his gut.
GoldenBride, Rose Brides, Latidate. For fuck's sake, UkraineBride4You dot com? "Legitimate & Cheapest Mail Order Bride Sites! Click here for more!"
He clicked his phone off. The light from the vibrant ads and taglines disappeared from his face as quickly as they appeared, leaving him in the dark of his bedroom. He didn't speak, he just stayed in his bed, leaning on the headboard in silence.
He had gotten used to his house being quiet. It was never especially loud, but at least when the kids still lived at home, he could hear the sounds of life. Of Shoto's feet padding through the halls. The sound of Fuyumi's books opening and closing. Natsuo's grumbling under his breath. Proof that he had gotten them all this far— that he had done something right for them.
No. He couldn't stay this way, living in the dark silence, figuratively and literally. He turned his phone back on and clicked the highlighted link with the least concerning name.
Well, you were just the perfect little thing, weren't you? Young, pretty, doe-eyed, and sweet. After perusing a website that looked less criminal than he thought it would, Enji decided on you. He had to have you.
You stood out immediately from the pages of other women. All of them were, of course, gorgeous. They would not be advertised if they weren't. You, though. There was something about you. You were small—Enji liked that—but not frail. Built for carrying children was what you were, he decided, with your soft curves and buxom build.
Your profile did not give much away. Basic information and a little greeting. It intrigued him enough, so clearly it worked.
The two of you chatted for a few weeks, if you could call it that. There was little getting to know each other and more plane tickets being purchased and pick up times being arranged. To say that you had him hooked was an understatement, especially considering the only tools you had to connect with him were shitty translations of your language to his from Google and emojis.
Everything about you read as gentle. Docile. Probably the only personality Enji was equipped to deal with. He would just die if married to a combative woman. His enemies would love to see him nestled up with a loud, abrasive one with a temper to match his own.
No, you would do quite nicely, with your limited speaking and non-provoking nature. You were the perfect escape, a blank canvas onto which he could project his hopes for a new life onto. He could start a family over again. He could fix his mistakes and move on. Maybe, just maybe, he could forgive himself.
The flood of ideas filled him each time his phone buzzed with your messages, even if they were often short and punctuated by misunderstandings and screwy sentences due to poor translations. He found himself counting the days until your plane would take off to bring you to him, to his home. He had plans for you.
Things moved quickly with your new husband. Just last week your flight landed. Then you were saying "I do," and now he had you bent in positions unimaginable.
He worked fast. His hands were large and rough, but God, they were efficient. Thick fingers rubbed at your clit. A thicker cock prodded at your entrance. You wriggled beneath him a bit, eyes widening at the stretch.
You didn't have the words to tell him you were a virgin, but you didn't have the desire to stop him either.
"Hold still, you," he said, voice gentle in comparison to how rough his strokes were. "You've got to let it adjust."
Even if you could understand his words, the heat burning your ears drowned out any sound completely. Fullness filled you everywhere. Like a missing piece you never knew you didn't have.
"Ah, you still aren't broken in yet for me," he muttered to himself. He watched as your struggles to swallow him into your walls. "Virgin, yeah?"
You mumbled incoherently to yourself, feeling his words cast over your face. More or less, you understood the tone of his words and hummed in agreement, hands playing with your tits absent mindedly.
Pain tinted moans escaped you. Enji felt good, sure, but a warmth of discomfort passed through you with every inch of him. Your mind told you yes, but your body tried to reject him. He was simply too big, and too much.
Not that it would stop him.
He spat on his length to ease the friction. A steady hand stayed over your clit, abusing it to the point of overstimulation. He wanted this to be pleasurable for you, but he had a goal in mind.
The load or two he had pumped into you earlier wasn't enough. He wouldn't dare give up yet, especially not with the adrenaline rush hearing you whine gave him.
Besides, your plane ticket was expensive. He planned on getting paid back in spades.
#enji todoroki x reader#enji todoroki#endeavor x reader#enji x reader#bnha x reader#bnha smut#endeavor x you#tw dubcon#tw: dubcon#my hero academia x reader
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Because Of You
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
synopsis: years after your rite of passage, the boy who’s heart you broke just won’t leave you alone. clarisse, your girlfriend, quickly decides she’s not a fan.
a/n: should i stop procrastinating and then forcing myself to write shitty fics quickly? probably. but not today!! this is kinda just like an au of dont delete the kisses but… you guessed it… IDC!!!!!!!! from this ask
thank you all so much for patiently waiting i love y’all soooooo muuccchhhhhh 🫶🫶💋 as i mentioned on my acc i have the next week off from school, pls expect more content then!!
Because Of You - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, this sucks so bad y’all sorry lolllll, y/n is a year round camper!, starts out very background heavy but i really don’t care 😭, creepy men UGH, ugly bitches not being able to let shit go, im gonna say sexual harassment just incase, swearing, usual demigod stuff y’all know what you’re getting into, jealous!clarisse YESSS, possessive!clarisse ik i screamed!!, protective!clarisse too, slightly graphic makeout scene, i think that’s all, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
When you were young, you were thrilled by the thought of love.
The idea of belonging not only with someone- bodies fitting together like puzzles pieces- but belonging to someone- wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
Later, your half-siblings would describe mostly similar experiences to yours- an overwhelming desire to be loved, wanted, needed. Ever since you ran into camp with a monster hot on your heels and satyr shouting encouragement next to you- everyone’s stared at you. They poke and prod, they act like they’ve never seen a daughter of Aphrodite before.
It’s annoying, but it makes you feel good- but not quite.
Until Alek came along.
You were both 13, you still believed in soulmates, and you wanted nothing more than to be with each other for the rest of your lives.
You were 13, and he felt like the only one for you.
And when you had to break up with him to fulfill your rite of passage- it felt like the world was ending. You cried for days and begged your sister Phoebe to say it wasn’t a true, it was just a mean, mean prank.
But she couldn’t tell you that, and there were more types of love that romantic.
While you longed to hold someone, to be held- you also craved your mother’s approval like you were starving. You wanted her love, you wanted her to visit you in your dreams, you wanted gifts from her, you wanted everything and anything she could give you.
So, it hurt like you had never known hurt before, but you did it. Alek seemed entirely indifferent to it, almost ignoring you and pretending you hadn’t said it- but you felt a warmness around you, a dove flew between trees, you knew your mother was there and she approved.
Breaking up with Alek felt like the sun had exploded on top of you.
Being with Clarisse felt like the sun was wrapped around you.
—-
After Alek’s initial denial, he went through all the other stages of grief, mourned your relationship like you did, and you came out on the other side with a one-sided agreement to forget it ever happened.
Alek got stuck. Or went back. He started to believe that you were still meant to be, that much you could tell.
Until that day at the training fields when your hand slipped at archery and you almost shot Clarisse in the head- and she had glared at you so harshly while you ran over and examined her head, gushing out apologies and fretting over her.
She pushed you away, hand lingering for a second, eyes softening before she quickly looked away.
“Just… be more careful,” she had said, almost like a question, like she wasn’t sure the words were coming out of her mouth.
And, Gods, were you terrified it was all some secret plan. Make you think it was alright only to corner you in the woods and probably kill you, or something.
And when she asked the next day to teach you how to shoot a bow, you agreed with tears in your eyes, knowing of her reputation, and it took a lot of trust and a lot of swapped secrets for her to prove to you it wasn’t all some elaborate plan.
But even if her plan was to kill you the entire time, you fell in love over her fixing your stance, hands brushing as you accidentally grabbed the same arrow, stolen looks across the pavilion.
It wasn’t until a random kid bumped into you, making you fall and twist your ankle. Clarisse had this look in her eyes that was so genuine, so full of love and care for you, softly caressing your leg after she had punched the other kid in the face.
And you realize as she said you were doing great, limping while she helped you to the infirmary, that this was something.
And as much as you hated the violence being committed over you, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and the warmth in your chest was all you had ever wanted. This was what it was like to belong with someone, to someone, with her, to her.
This was what it was like to be admired. Loved. Wanted. Needed.
And when she softly told you goodbye, you had kissed the corner of her lips and thanked her- turning to walk into your cabin, ankle already feeling better thanks to the ambrosia.
She grabbed you by the wrist and turned you around, pulling you against her tightly and kissing you so harshly like she had just found the secret to the world in her lips on yours, her hands on your hips.
And when she finally pulled away, embarrassing strings of spit connecting your lips, she said she was sorry. Probably the first time she had ever said that to someone, and you smiled.
“Sorry. It’s just… once your lips were on mine, I don’t think I can ever stop. I don’t wanna stop.”
And she kissed you again and it was all you ever wanted out of this life- to love and be loved, to hold and to be held, and it was all because of her.
—-
The welcome back campfire is your favorite time of year.
It’s when the camp comes alive, when the Gods themselves seem to return to this place- even Mr. D is a bit more lively with all the pure infectious energy running through the first few days of camp. Everyone’s getting settled, classes haven’t started quite yet, and the year round campers get a much needed break.
As much as you and Clarisse wanted to keep things private, when she punches someone in the middle of the pavilion for accidentally bumping into you, it’s not hard to figure out Clarisse cares for you more than she does anyone else.
And after one of your younger siblings, Cara, a 12-year-old notorious for staying up late, saw you and Clarisse kissing that first night- it spread like wildfire.
But it was the winter, so it still felt secret, until summer rolled around and Clarisse kept getting more and more annoyed by every camper who entered the gates. She would grab at you in the middle of meals, drag you into her bed, even kiss you in public- do all these things that seemed so out of character for her, but she was a different person when she was with you.
Everyone had been looking at you oddly all night, shocked, confused, even Clarisse has cracked a genuine smile at someone who dropped their drink- squeezing your hand.
Maybe they had all heard the rumors. Maybe they didn’t believe them.
But it’s all cleared up when Clarisse leads you to the best seat, the log not too far from the fire but not too close, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your temple.
Your cheeks heat up, only because Clarisse is never this touchy in public, and never around this many people before.
All of the eyes on you feel weird- they feel so judging.
And you’re not used to that, however vain it may be.
“Everyone’s staring at us,” you mumble, shuffling closer to Clarisse so your legs are pressed together.
She leans her head against your shoulder. “‘S okay. Don’t worry about ‘em, baby.”
You huff. “Did no one ever teach them it’s rude to stare, though? Like… c’mon.”
She sighs dramatically, lifting her head from your shoulder.
“Stop fuckin’ staring,” she says. Not quiet shouting, but her voice is loud and forceful. Her voice carries weight.
And eventually, at the risk of Clarisse’s wrath, all the wandering eyes stop.
A few of Clarisse’s siblings laugh from around you, commenting that the stares were getting a bit ridiculous, everyone just grateful that you all might get a little reprieve from the overwhelming stares and whispers.
But, you still feel uneasy. Clarisse kisses your shoulder.
And while you look around at the faces very pointedly not staring at you, there’s one person who still is. You roll your eyes, open your mouth to comment on it- but your mouth quickly snaps close at the sight of Alek.
—-
You don’t mention it to Clarisse. Maybe because breaking his heart haunts you, maybe what could have been haunts you.
You try not to think of Alek or that night, you try not to think of the entire age of 13. You always knew that Alek never quite let you go. He still sort of believed that the two of you would come back together- subscribing to some abstract belief soulmates.
You don’t think about Alek. Everything you do is because of her, because of Clarisse.
Sometimes, knowing you have secret admirers makes you feel all happy, but now that Clarisse sneaks you into her cabin every night- it makes you feel weird. You really don’t want anyone except for Clarisse, the idea of even being near someone else kinda disgusts you.
But, you choose to believe that maybe he was just shocked, and he’ll get over it in a few days.
You spend your days in the summer sun with Clarisse, holding her hand on walks through the strawberry fields, still using your archery lessons to spend time together, staring at each other from across the pavilion at meals, dreaming about a future together when it gets dark and you’re forced to whisper softly.
Alek is just always lurking. Is it coincidence? Is he stalking you? Every time you’re with Clarisse, trying to enjoy a nice date, he’s there- staring at you like a lovesick puppy.
And if it wasn’t because of her, you would probably be flattered. But you have Clarisse, you’ve moved on, you’re in love and happy.
It’s the late afternoon, you’re trying to enjoy a long moment with her, breathe in the sweet smell and just feel how happy you are, know it’s because of her.
The fields are still crowded with kids who pushed off their chores until the end of the day, so you and Clarisse stay on the outskirts. Not too far into the woods that’s filled with satyrs and nymphs who have grown very hostile towards any two campers who make their way into the woods. But not too close.
You don’t even register that other people are there. You’re going on about your annoying half-brother, she’s pretending to listen intently- but it’s just enough to be here with her, and at least she’s listening to the sound of your voice. At least that brings her some comfort, and that makes you feel good.
“And then, he said-” you trail off, feeling like something’s crawling all over you, practically being able to feel the anger in the air.
“Hm, what?” Clarisse asks, snapping out of her reverie at your silence.
Alek is glaring at you, of course. It just feels so juvenile. You had received letters from him for years- ones that he didn’t sign- but you knew. He said that the two of you had so much more to give together, that a second chance was all he needed to make you forget about the rite of passage, about pleasing your mother.
Clarisse squeezes your hand, leaning closer to you.
You used to like the feeling of getting those letters, of knowing you were loved and wanted. But now, with Clarisse, because of her- it feels wrong.
She follows your eye line and Alek quickly looks away, back down at the strawberries he’s supposed to be picking.
Clarisse’s hand tightens around yours.
“Who the hell is that?” she huffs.
You suck in a breath. “Alek.”
“Al-huh?”
You smile, despite how uneasy you feel.
“Alek, Clarisse. From my rite of passage?”
“Oh,” she nods, nose scrunching ever so slightly. “The one who left you those creepy letters? Has he left anymore?”
“No, no,” you say, risking one more glance at his back- just to assure yourself. Maybe you’re just making it all up. “Not since last summer. I mean, he was staring at us the night of the bonfire too, he’s always around on all our dates- it’s just creepy, at this point.”
“Sounds like the fucker has a death wish,” she drawls. “I’d be happy to help him with it.”
You bump her shoulder with yours. “Yeah, yeah Miss Violence.”
She smiles back, but she searches her eyes and you can tell she doesn’t like what she sees.
“Hey, c’mon. I’ll kill him if he pulls some shit again.”
“Clarisse.”
“Beat him up?”
“Clarisse.”
“Physically threaten him?”
“Clar-”
She smacks her hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” she smiles. “Don’t stress. I’ll take care of it.”
“Clarisse!” you shout, laughing, but her hand is still pressed tight over your moth.
“Oh, sorry, baby, I can’t hear you!”
“Bitch,” you hiss, and she frowns.
“Mean.”
—-
Clarisse, unfortunately, is true to her word.
Alek finally leaves you a note. It’s simple, unsigned, but obviously him. You recognize his chicken scratch scrawl.
All it says is:
I miss you, we could be something
She writes him a note back, a long one- first talking about all of her accomplishments as a daughter of Ares, then detailing all the ways she’ll make him regret thinking about you.
She tells you now, whispers in her bed, she laughs and your mouth hangs open.
“Clarisse!” you gasp, scolding her with a soft hit to her shoulder.
She rolls her eyes and moves closer to you.
“What else was I supposed to do? Ignore it? You don’t know me if you think I could just ignore some random dude flirting with my girlfriend. He’s a fuckin’ weirdo, and hopefully that note will teach him somethin’.”
“I mean. I doubt it will,” you mumble after a moment.
She smiles, your heart squeezes- because her smile is so beautiful- and because Clarisse never smiles like this. It’s bloodthirsty. It’s almost inhuman. It’s Godly.
“Then I’ll have to teach him in… other terms.”
—-
Dinner this evening is slow and relaxed. It’s Friday, so you’ve all made it to the end of the first official week of camp. Chiron let’s the rules fade away tonight, cabin tables have been abandoned and everyone sits where they want.
A few Hermes kids volunteered to start a fire, Mr D is busy trying to get the new kids to sneak him some alcohol- but he’s hard pressed to find ones who haven’t already been warned not to.
The energy in the air is infectious. The promise of a late wake up tomorrow, a fun night, the feeling of the moon and the fire, warmth on your skin- it’s a recipe for lowered inhibitions, for everything to come a little easier.
Clarisse sits next to you a table in the pavilion. You’re surrounded by Silena and Beckendorf, a few Hermes kids, a few Ares kids- a big mosh of random campers squeezed together at this one table- but it works, for whatever reason.
There’s nothing like laughing at someone’s shitty joke and feeling Clarisse laugh with you, pressed close to her so you can feel her chest rumble, feel her arm squeeze around you.
“He did what?!” Silena screeches, looking at you with wide eyes.
You laugh at her shock, at the audacity of Alek.
She sneaks a quick glance at Clarisse, who seems entirely engrossed in her siblings’ arm wresting tournament at the next table over.
“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling sort of complacent with it now. It’s not like anything will change. You’re here because of her, because of Clarisse. Everything you do is because of her.
Breathing, eating, sleeping. Basic human functions and the need to survive has only strengthened with the motivation of staying alive for her.
“Anyways,” you smile. “Clarisse left him back this big, long note. All about how she’s the strongest girl at camp,” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too big to be anything but joking. Besides, everyone knows she’s probably right. “And then threatened him a whole bunch. So, hopefully, he’ll just get his head out of his ass and then everything will be good again.”
You breathe out at the end of your small rant, and Silena smiles sympathetically.
“Hopefully,” she echoes.
But, because of Clarisse, because of her arms around you, you don’t feel anything but peace.
—-
Of course, life is not straightforward for demigods.
At the end of the day, you’re doomed to fall in your parents footsteps- except there is no immortality for you to fall back on. You’re vain and you’re proud, just like your parents, and you step too far, jump too high, and you’re as left dust on the floor.
Even though the same path had been left out for you to repeat, doomed footsteps to follow in, you step where they stepped and expect a different end.
The night is pitch black, besides for the brilliant stars and the bright, bright moon. It makes everything feel so private and secret. It makes Clarisse relax, makes her hold you closer but looser.
It feels good to feel her arm loose around you. She’s not afraid of you disappearing, because she knows of someone dragged you away you would rise up from the waves and straight back into her, into her arms.
The Apollo kids are playing music, voices hum along, the night is on fire with the crackles and the rising smoke, on fire with the peace, the content.
It feels like nothing can hurt you here.
But you’re a demigod, and life is not that easy.
The seat next to you is abandoned, and you barely even take notice as it’s quickly filled again- but you take notice of the eyes on you, of the body leaning forward to speak softly to you.
The fact that he’s here, the fact that he blatantly didn’t listen- you suppose you could have felt some sympathy for before, craving a life that wasn’t his anymore. Living off of memories made him too hungry.
Your mouth presses into a thin line as you recognize the voice in your ear.
“Y/N, I jus’ wanna talk.”
The rest of the table has fallen silent, and you realize everyone had almost immediately taken notice of his entrance- and you could tell by the way Clarisse’s body was tense against yours- he would regret ever coming over here.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, shifting closer to her.
She hooks her head over her shoulder, shifting completely so she’s straddling the bench, pressed up against your back.
Her tone is genuinely confused.
“Are you, like, okay in the head?”
The table, previously silent with fear, now bubbles with forced laughter.
“It’s not of your business,” Alek says, staring directly into your eyes. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, just completely shocked, too scared to move like it will all become real.
Clarisse puts her hand on your forehead and floats it down across your face, and your eyes voluntarily flutter shut.
“You’re not even worthy of being looked at by her,” and you can hear the smile on her voice. She confidence seeping from her pores- you can feel it all with the way she’s protectively wrapped around you.
“Y/N,” he says again, ignoring her through gritted teeth. “I just want to talk.”
“If you say one more fuckin’ word to my girlfriend I’m gonna kill you.”
There’s no smile on her voice, no edge of a joke. Not even angry. She’s deathly calm. She’s focused, like a 20 pound weight sinking to the bottom of the sea. She cuts through whatever she has to and everything else knows to avoid her.
You don’t know why the hell Alek just can’t let the 13 year old version of you go, why he’s looking something where there’s nothing, and you’re just so done with all of this.
You open your eyes, sitting up, letting Clarisse’s arms fall around you in confusion.
“Alek,” you start, softly. “We dated for a month when we were 13. That’s all it was, that’s all it’s ever gonna be. It’s over, okay?”
“Exactly,” he breathes. “A month when we were 13- and we were that good together? We could do so much more now, I wanna show you.”
“Okay, I’m done,” you mumble, standing up.
And without you in between, Alek finally gets a good look at the daughter of war. She’s pure, streamlined muscle. Every inch of her body has been meticulously trained to kill monsters- Alek knows that killing him would be easy.
Clarisse cracks her knuckles and you almost laugh at how cinematic it is.
—-
You hum as you run the alcohol pad over her split knuckles. Clarisse likes to leave the scars like this, the small ones, let them heal on her own. Even though she winces at the feeling, you know she’ll be walking around, proudly showing off her scabs until they finally fade away. She’ll cross her fingers and hope they scar, probably.
Clarisse watches you with admiration, admiring your movements, your voice, even though you’re really not doing anything special. But, to her, everything you do is special.
“Did you see how bad his face was?” she asks, trying to remain calm, but eagerness slips into her voice.
“I did,” you laugh. “It was real bad, baby. Good job.”
She huffs, as if it’s common knowledge.
“I always do a good job, just matters what level of good I’m on. I think this was one of my best works though, huh?”
She admires her split knuckles and you roll your eyes, finally starting to put some bandaids on the clean wounds.
“You’re crazy,” you mutter.
She shrugs. “You’re the one who let me. You’re the one who loves me.”
“Yeah,” you mumble after a moment, not really wanting to lie to her, tease her right now. She smiles soft and sweet, placing her fingertips against your jawline and leaning forward.
“Did you like watching me?” she breathes, her low voice hitting you right in the stomach, breath against your lips.
You circle her biceps with your hands and run them up and down the tense muscle.
“You know I did.”
“Three months no dessert,” she smiles.
“Three months of sharing with you,” you laugh. She smiles wider before finally, mercifully, putting her lips on yours.
Everything you do is because of Clarisse. It feels so good to be close to her like this- practically in her lap- fo feel how strong she is, to know what she did for you today.
It feels so good to know she loves you.
When you pull away, trying to chase her, she dodges you and kisses your jawline, your neck, and you throw your head back and release the most unladylike sounds as she leaves hickies on your neck, seemingly determined to make them as dark as possible, as easy to see. And a lot of them.
“Jealous?” you say, biting your lip to keep in a moan.
“Just want everyone to know you’re my girl. Want everyone to know who makes you feel good, feel loved, huh?”
You stomach twists and your mind goes blank.
“Huh?” she repeats, sticking her face in your neck to breathe in and out, catching her breath. “Why you feelin’ like this, baby?”
“Because of you,” you breathe. “Because of you, Clarisse.”
—-
y/n walking around the next day looking like she got attacked by a vampire
silena trying to be happy for y’all but also concerned for your health
clarisse just being proud as hell
—-
this was small so idk if y’all picked it up but clarisse was jealous before alek even came along- jealous that there were more campers coming! like? she just doesn’t like unworthy losers looking at her girl 🙄
—-
possessive!clarisse i love you so much baby
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑ flustered tweets
🏁 Pairings : Max Verstappen X fem!Reader
🏁 Warnings : suggestive sexual themes, touching, kissing, licking etc. no explicit content, swearing, Daniel Ricciardo being a menace.
🏁 Word Count : 3.3k words (3352 words)
🏁 Author's note : First suggestive conntent on this blog! woo-hoo, light the fireworks. But I do hope you enjoy and as always please leave a comment or reblog, since they do fuel my motivation. <3 Note that word dividers are by @cottage-writings and as always, translations are available via radio comm.
🏁 Music player : Love by Lana Del Ray
You smile to yourself as you stare at your television screen, the metallic box was currently projecting your boyfriend’s face, post-race, red faced and sweaty. Positively gorgeous. His blonde hair was mused due to his helmet and droplets of water leaked down from the strands to his forehead, trickling down his temple to his chin where they dripped down to his fire-proofs. It was nearing the end of the interview, and that meant his favourite questions would begin to pop up, the personal ones.
“So Max, how’s the missus doing? Based off her Instagram it looks like you both are very happy.” The man holding the microphone smiled at the driver, who rolled his eyes playfully at the memory of the multitude of stories that you would post by the hour, in fact he was 99% sure that you had posted at least 5 whilst he was in the car.
“Yeah well, it’s a dream being with her, it really feels like I’m on cloud 9.” He gushed, a rare occurrence for the notoriously grumpy man, but as soon as you were brought up in conversation, it was as though he was a wilting sunflower that was just introduced to sunlight, “I’m doing all of this for her.” Max admitted bashfully.
“Well, if that isn’t proof of the it couple on the grid, then I don’t know what is.” The interviewer admitted, grinning at the lovesick expression on your boyfriend’s face, “But before I let you go, the fans were in uproar a few days before the race. Based on a tweet made by a fellow driver on the grid.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if his humorous actions would jog Max’s memory.
You, on the other hand, knew exactly of the tweet Mark, as he introduced himself as, was talking of. It was tweeted by none other than Daniel Ricciardo, the cheeky bastard decided to divulge the fans with a tidbit of information about Max and your sex life.
Just walked into the 2-time WDC and his girlfriend doing it like bunnies. Somehow, this man is never embarrassed.
You remember that day like no-other, it was the moment after the Spanish Grand Prix and Max had just won.
“I’m so proud of you,” You breathed against his lips, holding his face between your palms as your fingers fisted his hair, close enough to the root that he groaned outwardly. The scent of victory wafted from him as one of your hands snaked down between the two of you to unzip his race suit. Allowing you to push him against the hotel room wall and move down to lick thick, wet stripes against his pulse point, revelling in the taste of fresh champagne.
“heilige shit,” he breathed out, gnawing at his bottom lip whilst the hands that rested on your waist tightened and bruised his fingerprints against your skin.
“Geliefde.” Max whispered, bringing his left hand up to grip the nape of your neck and guide your face away from the fifth fresh hickey you were creating on his muscle, towards his own, gazing into your eyes with a heavy stare.
“Yeah?” You answer, blinking rapidly to clear the misty haze that overtook your brain, all you could think of was the delicious way that his suit hung low from his hips and how tight his fireproofs were, exaggerating his muscular pecs that strained against the protective layer.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as you scratched your nails lightly down his scalp towards his thick collar that stuck to his body, “Maxie?” You prompt, fluttering your eyelashes at him.
He chuckled at your act, wrapping a large hand around your neck and squeezing gently at the sides, just enough for you to gasp, “What do you think the press will say huh? My girlfriend got too horny watching me win?” He guided you towards the freshly made bed, pushing you down to a sitting position as your knees hit the back of the padded mattress, “It’s okay though, mijn mooie vriendin-“ He paused, moving his hand up to cup your jaw and pull at your lower lip, parting your mouth until you obediently allowed him to slip his thumb in, “I only do this for you.” He murmured.
Max nudged you further, watching contently as you fell onto your back, sinking into the thick blanket and released his thumb with a loud pop. You laugh a little at his proclamation, “Really? You do this for me?” You bite your lip, fiddling with the comforter beneath your fingertips, pushing off from the bed as you anchor yourself on your elbows.
“You doubt me?” He arches an incredulous eyebrow at you, bending down to part your knees, “dat zal niet lukken.” He murmured, getting down onto his knees to hook your thigh onto his shoulder, allowing him to twist his head and kiss the sensitive skin, “What should I do to prove it to you? Huh?”
Max chuckled as you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts, pushing them down suggestively and he would’ve given into your request had it not been for the interruption.
“HEYYY CHAMP-“The friendly boisterous voice of a certain Australian rang through your hotel room, causing you to jump and grip your boyfriends head, which had merely jolted slightly before coming to rest against your opposite thigh, uninterested.
“Daniel.” Max deadpanned, his cerulean eyes merely slackened, cracking a lazy smile as his friend stopped in his tracks, blocking the door from what seemed to be at least half of the grid, “Must you really bother me?”
“Sorry man,” you heard Lewis call out, chuckling loudly as a familiar French cackle sounded off after a lewd comment sounding like, “damn he’s pussy-whipped”. You whimpered with embarrassment, falling back against the bed as you covered your face, hiding the blotchy blush that covered your face.
“Max” You whined, twitching your leg so that he could get up and most likely go out to celebrate, “Get up, we can continue this later.” You assured him, already imagining the dress that you would wear.
“See what you did wankers?” He called out, barely lifting himself up, “Made my girl embarrassed.” He admonished his colleagues. Max looked up at you, cooing at your red face, “It’s okay, Mijn liefje. I’ll get them to leave.”
“Guys lets go” Lando called out, “Let the guy get his dick wet.”
“Ew gross.”
“Not my fault you’re single fuck-face.”
You groaned, “Guys!” The crowd settled at the sound of your harsh, crackly voice, “It’s fine, let us at least get ready?”
“Yes ma’am” Charles shouted, which was soon followed with sounds of violence and pathetic groans.
Max kissed your cheek, getting up from the floor to go and slam the door in the few faces, but before you could hear the satisfying wood beat against the hinges, Daniel had whispered, “How the fuck are you not embarrassed?” Which prompted more snickers and a flurry of agreements about your lover’s lack of humiliation.
“You should be embarrassed ass wipe.” Max chuckled as he pushed the group out of the doorway, “Walked in on me about to get the best meal money could never buy.”
If you thought about it too much the humiliation would creep back in, along with the curiosity.
Later that same evening, when your friends and you had gone out for dinner, your face was still flushed and any thought that led back to that moment in the hotel room would lead to you shaking your head promptly and diving back into conversation. Whereas Max was comfortably seated next to you, chatting happily as he sipped more alcohol from the flute by his porcelain plate whilst his free hand rested on your thigh, slipped underneath the silky material of your sundress.
It was as if the moment never happened and he was already fantasising about getting you back into the room, ready to bend you into different positions that would make your legs shake hard enough into next Sunday. He did infact, manage that.
Max laughed on your television screen, turning to look at Daniel, who was animatedly doing his own interview, “Yeah well, it’s hard to embarrass me,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth as he shrugged nonchalantly, “It really was just an inchident.”
Max winked cheekily at the camera as Mark laughed and patted his shoulder, “Nice to see Max, have a good one,”
“You too,”
You huffed out with amusement as you pointed the remote at the screen a certain calm filling the apartment as the light blinked away from the box in front of you. The sun was slowly setting on the streets of Monaco, a subtle signal that meant that your boyfriend would soon be returning home to you. Max would claim that home was where you were, but you could tell that the large penthouse was probably the closest alternative to the driver, it was a joint investment as a couple, the first of many and it was beloved by both of you.
Large windows that overlooked the high-end shopping district which curved with the positioning of the building, an oblong shape that influenced the soft edges of the entire apartment. The home was out of your Pinterest board, soft plush coaches and tall glass vases that littered every free surface, Max had claimed 2 of the 4 bedrooms, one of them being his office and the other being his specialist home gym. The third was saved for guests and the fourth, that resided on a separate floor; took over the entire area and was your shared bedroom. Luckily on his and your salary, the home was merely a drop in the ocean, along with the numerous pretty pennies you spent on furniture.
It was in other words, your baby.
Jimmy and Sassy slinked between your legs as you walked to the kitchen from your spot on the largest couch that was turned inwards to face the TV that was mounted within the ceiling, dropping down mechanically at the push of a button and retreating into the seemingly solid concrete at another. You had done exactly that, dismissing the piece of tech to show off the full-length balcony. Cooing at your fur-children you picked them up in one hand, “Come on guys, let’s finish dinner,” You kissed their heads, chuckling as they nuzzled into your face before letting them down on the floor in front of the sink when you went to put on a pair of gloves and fish out dinner from the oven.
The tell-tale chime of your elevator and the mechanical tone of the keypad informed you that Max was home, along with the cats going off to welcome their father from a long day of work,
“Hey guys,” you heard him greet the children whilst he kicked off his shoes and tucked them along with his jacket into the small cupboard that sat within the wall in the entrance hall. You turned away from the oven, placing the entire grill onto the kitchen island as you huffed happily at the dish within the Tupperware as Max walked further into the house and towards the kitchen, where you stood patiently, the soft sounds of the Vitamin String Quartet playing in the background.
“Hey, schat,” He murmured, eyes softening at the corners as he rushed to your side, tugging you away from the counter to wrap his hands around your and bury his head into your neck. You giggle at the tickle of his hair against your skin and bring your hands down to cover his that were wrapped around you, “Hello my love,” you whisper, turning your head slightly to kiss his forehead.
“You cooked,” He stated happily, smiling against you.
“I did.”
“I’m happy,” He confirmed, removing himself from your neck whilst keeping a firm hold on your waist, “How was work?”
“Same old same old, people want to invest in stocks, I do it for them. Very boring.” You rush through your day, recounting the odd events that went on in the office, “But I saw your interview, watched it on the archive.”
“Hmm,” He hummed, knowing that when you do watch the interviews, you normally do it to hear his voice and see his absurdly attractive post-race glow, not listen to the odd mechanical language and repeated statements of, “-push the car harder next race.” Or “-really disappointed this time.”
“Heard what you said about that tweet Daniel made,” You feel him kiss the skin behind your ear before snorting.
“What else could I say? Man doesn’t think before tweeting.” Max grumbled.
“Made me think-“
“Oh no.”
“Stop it.”
“Okay,”
“Anyway, made me think that I actually have never seen you blush.”
“I’m sure you have,” He assured you, untangling himself from you to get a chilled water bottle from the fridge behind you. You twist your body around, leaning back against the counter to watch his movements with squinted eyes.
“Hmm,” You tap your chin for a few seconds, “Nope, never.”
“Schat, it’s been almost two years,” He paused to crack off the top of the bottle, “I am positive you’ve seen me blush. And even if you haven’t, it’s no big deal.”
You huffed and crossed your arms childishly, “But I’m your girlfriend!” You reached out with your hands to grab his own slutty-man waist.
“Thanks for the reminder, had het anders niet geweten,” Max chuckled, allowing you to pull him by the waist to rest his abdomen just above yours.
“It’s a big deal Maxie, I’m meant to be able to make you blush,” You pouted up at him, scratching your nails up his spine, grinning as he shivered against your hold.
He took a final gulp from his bottle before minutely shifting to press harshly against a cupboard to reveal a hidden bin that popped out at his commend. Max dropped the empty plastic into the metallic cylinder and pushed the sliding contraption in again. He turned back to you, focussing on your large unblinking eyes and wet, pouting lips.
He held your face tenderly, kissing your forehead with his own, “S’okay schat, somethings just aren’t meant to happen.”
You pull away at his statement.
Like hell it won’t
“Nope, that won’t do,” You tug at his arm, guiding him into the separate dining room, a large area that was painted an off-white creamy colour, containing a brass sputnik chandelier that hung low against the white marble dining table which had at least 12 separate chairs tucked beneath its oval body. You pulled at the upholstered chair and dug your hand into the tactile Borg fabric before seating Max, who patiently trailed behind you whilst holding the separate doors open, allowing you to execute your plan perfectly.
You stood in front of the man, who was sat with his legs spread graciously in front of him with his large palms splayed against his slightly-less than normal skinny jeans. It was going to hard, yes. Harder than a diamond heist, to extract the long sought over blush from this well practiced stoic man. But you were determined.
Starting easily, you planted your hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward, close enough that your noses were touching and lips ghosting over each other’s.
“What about this?” You whispered, eyes fluttering closed as you could begin to feel the small grooves and indents of his lips against yours along with his tongue licking at your bottom lip.
“Don’t think so, love.” He murmured back, laughing heartily when you groaned and pushed at his chest.
“Ok that’s it, take it off.” You folded your arms, tapping your foot impatiently.
“Woah, at least buy me dinner first?” Max’s eyes widened as you growled playfully and tugged at the hem of his branded red-bull shirt, “O-Okay okay, chill out you horny demon.”
“Good,” You huff, undoing the buttons of your light blue shirt, until you stood in just your bra and a long pair of silky lounge-wear pants, “We aren’t leaving here until you blush at least once.” You promised him, grinning manically when he stared at your chest.
You re-started once again, barely brushing your lips against the shell of his ear, smiling to yourself when his breath hitched and he groaned, “Anything?” You breathe out, licking slowly, lustfully at the sensitive skin between his ear and the nape of his neck.
“No,” Max denied, squeezing his eyes shut when you took the skin of his collar bone between your lips, sucking lavishly until you were sure of a dark blue love bite before moving inwards, littering the pale canvas with your marks.
“Come on Maxie, you know you want to,” You crooned moving further down, until your face was between his pecs and your hands were braced against the muscles, you dug your nails into his skin before dragging them slowly downwards whilst keeping your eyes locked with his, waiting for the victorious rosy tint to paint his face.
No luck.
“Maybe we should just give up? I can think of a lot of things I can do,” He just barely moaned out from between heavy pants whilst your mouth had made its way to his navel, leaving a wet trail in its wake. You shook your head slightly, flicking your eyes down to where your tongue lay flat against his stomach, “Are you fucking kidding me?” You complained, biting his abs.
“What? I can’t help it,” He defended, holding his arms up innocently before clenching his jaw shut when you began to fiddle with the button of his jeans.
“Yeah?” You challenge, getting up from the tiled floor to swing one leg to one side of his waist while the other sat on the opposite side, allowing you to straddle him and sit directly on his crotch whilst raising an eyebrow at his rolled back eyes.
“What about now Maxie?”
You winded your hips once. Twice. Until he came to hold your love-handles with a tight, possessive grip. Max leaned up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, you whimpered when one of his hands slipped beneath your pants to snap the elastic of your underwear.
You pulled away, burring your hands in his hair and letting the soft strands flow through your fingers, “What about now?” You murmur, pushing yourself against his palm whilst arching your back. He hissed, smirking at your determination.
“Nope.” He removed both hands from your body to fold them behind his head and lean back, “Now what, schat?”
You slumped down and pulled at your bra strap contemplatively, “Dinner.” You stated simply, clambering out of his lap.
“That’s what I tho- wait why are your clothes on?” He asked you incredulously, pointing at the significant tent in his jeans.
“Max Emillian Verstappen I put a lot of effort into dinner tonight,” You scolded him with your pointer finger as you slipped on your shirt, leaving the buttons undone.
“W-what the-“ He spluttered reaching for your hand, “Seriously don’t do this,” he whined, adjusting his jeans with an uncomfortable expression.
“That’s what you get.” You shrugged, leaving him in the dining room, not before you bent down in front of him- swaying your hips suggestively as you collected his shirt from the floor and throwing it at him, “Don’t come out without your shirt on.”
The door slowly creaked shut, leaving Max still shirtless, flabbergasted at his inability to blush.
Well, not really.
He groaned loudly, balling up his shirt to hide the angry red flush that creeped up his cheeks and took over the entirety of his chest, ears and neck.
“HAH!” You called out, re-emerging from the door with a bang, “I KNEW IT.” You had your phone in your hand, displaying a perfect picture of his flustered state, the blonde was buried within his team’s shirt and was very obviously scarlet, “NOW THE WORLD WILL KNOW!” You shouted victoriously, jumping up and down in your spot, shirt still unbuttoned.
You squealed when Max jumped and growled at you, “Get back here, I’ll give you something to tweet about.”
📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over
📻 Kchh...Dutch....to english....over
heilige shit - Holy shit
Geliefde - Love [r]
mijn mooie vriendin - my beautiful girlfriend
dat zal niet lukken - that won't work
Mijn liefje - My darling
schat - Darling/Love/Babe [term of endearment]
had het anders niet geweten - wouldn't have known otherwise
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#Max Verstappen#Max Verstappen imagine#Max Verstappen x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 smut#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1 x female reader#Max Verstappen fanfic#Max Verstappen fluff#Max Verstappen blurb#Max Verstappen smut#Max Verstappen x you#f1blr#[darlingwrites]#Spotify
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Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!
I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.
He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)
And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.
This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.
For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'
Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition
Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.
We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.
Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.
He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny
Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)
Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.
Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.
Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself
And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.
Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!
Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.
#bnha#bnha critical#mha#mha critical#bnha meta#my hero academia#mha meta#anti endeavor#boku no hero academia#anti enji todoroki#rei todoroki deserves better#dabi deserves better#shoto todoroki deserves better#fuyumi todoroki decerves better#natsuo todoroki deserves better
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Cupid doesn’t gamble
Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?
Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.
Word Count: 6,620
A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.
[II] [III]
“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey
Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.
But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.
Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.
Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.
He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.
And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.
You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.
"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.
“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.
A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.
He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.
"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.
“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.
Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.
"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.
He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.
"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.
You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.
The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.
Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.
"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.
Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.
Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.
He loved it.
"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."
He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.
You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?
Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”
Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.
He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."
Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*
He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.
“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”
He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.
He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."
You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.
Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.
"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?
You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.
He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.
“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.
"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.
In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.
You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.
As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.
"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."
“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.
“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.
He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.
You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”
Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.
He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.
"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.
“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”
Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.
"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.
“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.
It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.
He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.
“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.
He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.
He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.
"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."
The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.
He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.
The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.
"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.
Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.
Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.
“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.
As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?
"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.
Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.
But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.
“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”
He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.
"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.
"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.
Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”
“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.
“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.
Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.
"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.
As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”
Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”
Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.
"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"
He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”
Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”
Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.
With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.
“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.
"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.
As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.
Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.
“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.
“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.
"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.
"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.
“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”
“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.
You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.
Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.
As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.
You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.
“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.
As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.
You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.
“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?
Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.
"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.
Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.
He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.
Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.
"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.
He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.
“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”
But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.
Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.
His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.
"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."
Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.
“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.
He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"
He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”
“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.
Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."
He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.
As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.
"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.
The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.
A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.
He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.
No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.
You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.
He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.
You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.
“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.
Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.
He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."
Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.
But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.
“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.
His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.
But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.
You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.
His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.
But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.
You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.
Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.
He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.
You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”
“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.
He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.
"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."
Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.
“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”
The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.
Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.
But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”
You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?
You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“
He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.
“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”
“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”
“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”
He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”
You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.
When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.
“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#re4 leon#re leon#leon#resident evil leon#re4r leon
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reader has clearly daddy issues and has a crush on damian (she’s in her early twenties) and she romanticise everything he does for her, like driving back home etc…..but he thinks of her as a daughter or little sister and it pains her , make it angsty please ❤️❤️❤️
reader is so me lol
damian priest x reader
likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
‼️a little angsty, some feels, unwanted male attention, alcohol, reader is lana del rey coded and that’s a warning
think i need someone older
damian was older than you. much older than you. you probably had a sixteen year age gap but that never stopped you from romanticising everything he did for you.
rhea said that it was just a silly crush. she laughed when you told her that in your mind, damian was hot. but to you, he wasn’t just hot. he was kind, caring, compassionate and generous. he was all you always looked in a man.
but he would never see you the way you saw him. he always thought of you like a friend or, as he liked to call you, a little sister.
as your mind was wandering off, you couldn’t help but watch him train with rhea. they were both in the ring, practicing some moves but your focus was all on the way his body was moving, sweats falling down his chest, his long hair falling over his shoulders.
you couldn’t stop but thinking of him. every single time.
“….hello? earth to y/n?” punk distracted you and woke you from your dreams.
“uh? sorry?” you replied, a little annoyed.
“i asked, are you still using the bench or can i use it?” he repeated.
“oh, sorry…no it’s all yours” you immediately stood up, your eyes never leaving the ring.
punk thanked you but followed your eyes as they landed on rhea and damian “they’re good together”
“she’s married, you know” you didn’t mean to go into defensive mode but the idea of damian and rhea together made you throw up.
“i know…i was talking about as a tag team…they are really good together, they know how to move, how to make their enemies on their knees” punk explained, a little confused about your sudden reaction “is everything okay y/n?”
“yeah…sorry, i was just focused on learning those moves” you lied. you couldn’t care less about the moves when damian was half naked, pinning rhea down on the ring.
punk was satisfied with your answer and a twenty minutes later he was done using the bench. rhea and damian were done with their training session and they both popped out of the ring, making their way to the changing rooms. you followed them, going into the female changing room, you quickly took off your sport bra and matching leggings and cursed yourself when you saw that it started raining outside and all you had on were a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.
“you’re gonna freeze in that” rhea laughed, making you roll your eyes. if it was a different day, you would have laughed but your mood was going crazy and her little sarcastic jokes weren’t funny.
she ignored you, realising you weren’t in the mood to talk and you both left the gym.
“fuck it’s freezing…” you mumbled but damian was able to hear you as he came from behind and placed his sweatshirt over your shoulders.
“here you go princesa…i don’t want you to get sick…” he smiled, making his way towards his car “do you want me to take you home? do you have a ride?” he asked and you said no.
rhea initially offered to take you home as you came to the gym with her but she was taking too long chatting with phil and you were standing under the rain, freezing and shivering.
“okay, i’ll take you home, let’s go” he smiled, opening the passenger door for you. that simple gesture made your heart warm.
the ride was nice. he spoke about some silly shows he watched last night and you weren’t even paying attention to the shows, all your focus was on his thick voice. the way he used to switch from english to spanish and then to english again made your skin shiver.
if he only knew the effect he had on you.
“everything okay y/n? you seem a little lost” he asked, awaking you from your thoughts.
“no, i’m fine…i swear, just a little tired” you smiled.
he seemed to believe it so he let it go. once you were in front of your house, you moved to take his sweatshirt off but he stopped you “keep it on” he said “you’ll give it back once it’s not raining anymore” his smile was enough to make you fall on your knees but you composed yourself and thanked him.
inside of your house you let all that rage out, letting out a loud scream that probably would have made your neighbours worry, if only they cared.
you were tired.
you were tired of constantly being rejected, you were tired of falling in love with the wrong person. you needed a distraction. you couldn’t keep crying over someone who didn’t appreciate you they way you wanted.
still wearing his hoodie, his scent filling the room, it took you two seconds to download dating apps and look for a distraction. a few guys immediately texted you. they were good looking, probably kind and nice too, but they weren’t damian.
you picked the nicest one, asking him if he was free tonight and when he said yes, you had yourself a date.
you repeated again, trying to get that feeling in your head - you needed a distraction, from damian, from your feelings towards him.
so you wore your cute little black dress, a pair of matching heels, you did your make up and hair and in less that two hours you were already in the stranger car, letting him drive and take you to some restaurant. the place he chose was nice, probably expensive too but you didn’t care. if he wanted to spend his money on you, who were you to complain?
during the date you found out that he was quite boring. always talking about himself and his job. you learned that he was working in the family business, meaning he was rich rich. you learned that he didn’t care about people who were under him, you learned how he thought he was the best person in the world and that no one could compare.
in that moment you realised that if you stayed at home and cried yourself to sleep, you would have had more fun.
as expected he paid the bill and took you to some club in downtown.
club meant alcohol, alcohol meant feeling so dizzy that you would forget about your problems. you were impulsive, you had always been. but if alcohol worked, you couldn’t say no.
the music was loud and you could feel your whole body shaking. it was a nice feeling, maybe it would have worked for a few hours - you thought.
he offered you a glass of champagne, then another one and another one again that with three glasses of champagne you were already tipsy but not drunk as you wanted to be. so you excused yourself and ordered an entire bottle of wine, for you and your partner, but mostly for you. he was surprised when he saw you coming back with two glasses and an entire bottle full of alcohol. he definitely wasn’t going to say no to that. so you started drinking, realising how bad of an idea was.
he took you to the dance floor and even if you weren’t in no mood to dance, the music was pretty nice so you started swaying your hips over the dance floor. he took that as a sign to dance with you, but having a stranger’s body over yours made you shiver. you tried to move away but his hands were already on your hips, touching you in places you didn’t want.
“get off” you whispered, hoping that he would listen but he didn’t “get off!” you screamed a little louder making him drop his hands.
“woah” he laughed “what’s with that attitude?”
attitude? he was the one who brag about how rich and cool he was all night but you were the one with attitude?
“don’t touch me…” you whispered.
he was probably too drunk to realise what you were saying because he brought his hands back to your hips, holding you closer to his chest. his hands moved to your booty and that was your sign to go away.
“let me go you fucking pervert” you moved his hands away and went to grab your purse but his hand grabbed your arm, making you turn to his direction.
“you’re a fucking bitch! seducing me all night just to have a free meal and free drinks! you’re just a whore, go back to the streets, where you belong” he laughed before he moved to distract some other girls.
his words didn’t hurt you. you couldn’t care less so why were you crying in the middle of the road, shivering because it was freezing and all you were wearing was a short dress?
you knew boys couldn’t take care of you like damian would and that made you cry even harder. despite the fact that you were drunk, with no car to go back home and it was starting to rain again, you realised how stupid you were.
you thought about calling rhea but you knew she would have scolded you and you definitely weren’t in the mood for that. calling punk was out of line, he helped you a couple of times and he was great companion backstage but you weren’t that friends so you didn’t want to disturb him. your only option was damian, the man you’ve been causing all of this drama for.
when you were sure he wasn’t going to pick up, you heard his voice from the other side of the phone “hello?”
“damian…it’s me, i…” you didn’t know what to say. you were shivering, crying in the middle of the road, you were scared and alone.
“y/n” his voice worried “is everything okay? it’s two in the morning…are you okay?”
you took a deep breath “i’m not at home…i-i don’t know how to get back home damian…i’m drunk and”
“what you mean you’re not at home and you’re drunk?” he couldn’t believe his ears.
“i had a date but…he wouldn’t stop touching me and i left…i don’t know where i am damian…” if he was pissed before because you were out alone, he was worried now that you told him about a man who wouldn’t leave you alone.
“send me your location now, i’ll be there as soon as possible” you did as he said and you looked for a place to sit while waiting for him. the rain started to fall harder and your soft curls were completely ruined, you were sure your mascara was all smudged and your dress all dirty and ruined.
you couldn’t feel the cold anymore as your body went numb.
you waited for about fifteen minutes and when you saw damian’s car moving towards you, you started running and jumped into the vehicle. damian took a good look at you. you were shivering and completely drenched.
“quien es este hijo de puta?” he whispered in spanish. he couldn’t believe someone would leave you all alone in the middle of the night under the rain “i’m gonna kill him” he kept whispering “i’m gonna take you to my place…i don’t want you to stay alone”
you simply nodded, not trusting your own words.
his place was cozy and warm. his house felt like a home.
“here…let me grab you some of my clothes, you know where the bathroom is” he said. it wasn’t the first time he had you over, most of the time you were there with rhea but it was the first time that you were alone with him.
“thanks” you quickly hid into his bathroom. trying to keep your sobs and tears in, you opened the shower door and let all the water fall down, covering the sound of your broken sobs. you were crying, trying to find a reason to your sobbing but you couldn’t find just one.
damian was too kind with you and the idea of having to accept him just as a friend was killing you. the bad date turning into a complete disaster. you, being impulsive as you were, acting and then thinking. you were just you, broken and desperate for attention.
a few minutes later you came out of the bathroom. you removed all of your make up, your hair were half dry thanks to his hairdryer, you were wearing his clothes that were probably too big on you but his perfume invading your nose was comfortable.
he was waiting for you on his couch. when he saw you he sadly smiled at you, letting you know that you could sit next to him.
“im sorry if i woke you up” your broken voice said.
“i wasn’t sleeping” he smiled “but i definitely wasn’t expecting a call from you in the middle of the night” he chuckled “what happened princesa?”
you couldn’t tell him that he was the reason why o acted so careless so you told him half truth “i had a date tonight…and he took me out for dinner, i realised how unpleasant he was the moment i got into his car but something kept me there with him…so once we finished dinner he had this idea of going to a club, i didn’t mind it at first and i had a few drinks…but then i started drinking more and more and” a few tears left your eyes “he started to get touchy and he wouldn’t leave me alone, not even when i told him to get off…and when he realised that i wouldn’t have fucked him, he called me a bitch and a whore…and he basically left me there…i didn’t know where i was and i was scared…i’m so sorry i called you” you kept apologising, realising how stupid you were.
damian hugged you, letting you cry in his big arms “it’s okay…you couldn’t have known” he softly stroked your hair, knowing that it would have calmed you down “ yo voy a matarlo, ese hijo de puta” he whispered in spanish some words that you couldn’t put together.
“the worst part is that i didn’t even like him…” you didn’t mean to let those words out.
“what you mean?”
“i like someone else…but apparently he only thinks of me as a friend…so i used this date as a distraction” you sobbed again “the worst idea i’ve ever had”
“hey shhh…it wasn’t your fault” he comforted you “the guy you like is so stupid, trust me…he doesn’t know what he’s losing, you’re kind and beautiful, i bet there are thousands of boys who wanna date you” he said making you chuckle a little.
if he only knew
“i wish he could see me the way i see him” you confessed.
“he’s blind if he doesn’t see the amazing person that you are…but please, don’t ever go on dates you don’t feel like to go…” he said making you nod your head yes.
“yeah…i think i got the message after tonight” you chuckled.
“do you wanna stay over? i don’t want you to stay alone tonight…i have a guest bedroom that you could use” he offered and you were stupid to say no.
“please…”
he showed you the room and told you to call him if you needed him. you thanked him and softly closed the door, letting yourself falling on the bed, watching the ceiling and wondering what did you do to deserve such a heartbreak.
slowly you drifted off to sleep, letting those tears soak the bedsheets and hoping to find peace in your dreams.
#wwe#wwe x reader#wwe imagine#wwe x you#wwe imagines#wwe one shot#wwe x oc#wwe damian priest#damian priest#damian priest x reader#damian priest fanfic#damian priest smut#damian priest imagines#wwe damian#damian priest wwe#damian priest imagine#damian priest x oc#damian priest x you#damian priest and reader#damian priest angst#wwe damian priest x reader#damian priest x y/n#the judgement day wwe#the judgment day x you#the judgment day one shot#wwe the judgment day
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Letting Someone Go - Part 2
Benny Cross X Female Reader A/n: part 1 is here! Word Count: 2014 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use Taglist: @real-lana-del-rey @putherup
Fifteen months. That was all it took for you to find Benny, love him, and lose him. The easy version of your story went like this: it was Kathy Bauer’s fault. Simple as pie, like your mama used to say.
The truth was a lot different. The truth was messy and it hurt a hell of a lot more. Because the truth was that you hadn’t lost Benny at all. To lose something, you have to have it in the first place. And when you were being really honest with yourself, you knew that you never had Benny Cross. You had as much of a claim to him as a kite does to the wind. That was to say, none at all.
You didn’t like the truth. But, you weren’t the kind of girl who could live a lie either. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you ran away. Kathy Bauer’s first night in the Vandals bar was early November, Benny broke it off with you in early December. You spent Christmas drunk and stoned. And by New Years, you were gone.
You thought putting Chicago - and Benny - in the rearview mirror would help. You’d banked on it helping. Running was your only plan. There wasn’t any other choice, really. Sure, some of the Vandals had pitched you on sticking around, club president Johnny among them. Your waitressing pal Sheila had asked you to move in with her, given that you were now two months’ behind on rent without Benny’s side-hustle cash around to help pay the bills. Hell, Cal had even offered you a soft place to land on the left side of his queen sized mattress.
None of those offers had tempted you for even an instant. So, while the rest of America was counting down the final seconds of 1965 from their couches, you were sitting on the back of your fully customized Sportster, driving like a bat out of hell on the back roads leading west out of Chicago. Your only destination was the fuck out of here.
It took you fifteen months to figure out what love was and to lose it again. You weren’t sure how long it was going to take you to do something approximating move on, but you figured it would be a lot longer than fifteen months. And you were right.
***********************
Your phone rang at 3:13am in the morning on September 19th, 1969. The first thing you thought was that your daddy must have finally died. Sonofabitch had been fighting a chainsmoker’s strain of lung cancer for almost six months now, and damn had it been a hard fight. Your mama had actually begged you not to come home and see him. Nothin’ you can do here, baby she said in her soft, sad voice each time you called and asked if you should come home. Your daddy, for his part, couldn’t talk anymore, on account of the laryngectomy the doctors gave him a few weeks prior. He’d declined one of those robotic voice boxes. Figured he’d said all he needed to at this point. Nobody wanted to hear the ramblings of an old biker on death’s door at this point. Especially himself.
But it wasn’t your mama’s voice on the other end. It was Johnny Davis.
“Hey, kid.” Not a question, not a hey, how are ya. It had been almost four years since the last time you’d talked to Johnny. Four years since you’d last seen a Vandals cutte. You wished you could say it had been that long since you’d thought about the club, but that would be a damn lie. Your mind drifted back to a certain handsome blonde-haired blue-eyed biker almost every day.
It took you a minute to place the voice on the other end. It was familiar in the way a dream is familiar, but between the fog of leftover whiskey, a deep sleep, and buried memories, it didn’t come to you quickly.
“Who’s this?” you asked, wiping the tired out of your eyes.
“Oh, uh, well. It’s Johnny.”
There it was.
“Johnny? Johnny Davis?”
“Yeah, yeah it’s me, kid. Listen. How you been?”
You couldn’t help but let out a short, sad chuckle. The easy answer to that question was oh, I been alright Johnny, you? But the truth was something more like, well Johnny, let’s see, since I last saw you in Chicago I’ve been on the road pretty much constantly for four years, running for so long I can’t tell if I’m running to or away from something, much less what that thing is. I’ve picked up about a dozen bad habits, like drinking too much and riding too fast and going home with the first guy who’ll buy me a brew at a bar. Oh, and by the way, my daddy’s dying.
But Johnny didn’t deserve your bitterness. Especially not at 3:14 in the morning.
“You know me, Johnny, I’ve been doin’ just fine. Why’re you callin’ so early?”
There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. An image of Johnny, taking a deep drag on one of those Pall Malls he loved to smoke, came to you in the darkness. In the quiet of his reply, you heard a dense grief. You braced yourself for what you were sure was bad news and flicked on the bedside lamp on your nightstand. Next to you, the latest biker boy of the week stirred grumpily and waved at you to turn the light off. You ignored him, throwing off the covers and dangling your feet over the side of your mattress.
“Well, kid. It’s Brucie.”
Brucie. It took the air out of your lungs. You could have named a half-dozen Vandals you’d expect to kick the bucket before Brucie. Zipco, Wahoo, Corky. Hell, even Johnny himself. And Benny, of course. You couldn’t help but feel the knot in your chest relax an inch to know that Johnny wasn’t calling to tell you that it was Benny. But damnitall, Brucie? Careful, pragmatic, thoughtful Brucie? What the fuck was Gail gonna do?
“Brucie? What the fuck happened?”
Another jagged inhale on the other end. Johnny was crying, you realized. It gutted you.
“Oh, you know. 1967 Pontiac came outta nowhere, you know, just caught him in a bad way. It’s always the ones you don’t see comin’, y’know? Fuckin’ Pontiac.”
“Jesus, Johnny. Brucie? Shit.”
You lit a cigarette of your own as you let your mind wander back to your time in Chicago. Brucie was solid, Johnny’s right-hand man and a kind, gentle sorta guy. You’d liked him instantly, and Gail too. Real good folk.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s been hard, y’know, I mean, club is real beat up over it.”
“Fuck, Johnny, I don’t even know whatta say. I’m so sorry.”
You and Johnny took matching drags and tried to swipe away your tears. The guy in your bed next to you rolled over and fixed you with a bleary-eyed glare. You couldn’t remember his name - Steve, maybe. You covered the receiver with your hand, told him to get the fuck out, and drank down the last swallow of whiskey in the only upright glass on your nightstand.
“Yeah, well, I ‘preciate that, kid, I really do. Listen, we’re havin’ a get together for Brucie. Next weekend. Entire club, all charters gonna be there. Invited a few others, too. Ones that knew Brucie. I know he’d want you there.”
Of all the things Johnny had said to you tonight, this was the one that stole the air from your lungs. Go back to Chicago, to the Vandals? You weren’t sure how you’d do that. Or if you physically could.
“Aw, shit Johnny. I dunno…”
“I know you got history here,” Johnny interrupted quickly. “I know you got… I know you got a lot you’re tryin’ not to come back to. I get it.”
Lots of people might have tried to tell you they understood how you felt. You’d opened up about Benny to a few people since you’d left Chicago. Most people you met on the road were a little bit broken, like you. They were running, just like you, and they weren’t strangers to heartbreak and dead-endings and being fucked over. But, no matter how many times you tried to tell your story, you just never felt like you got it right. So nobody really understood it, because you weren’t sure you did. But Johnny? Johnny didn’t need to hear you tell it. He’d watched it happen. Maybe he really did get it.
Still, was that enough for you to go back? Unsure of what to say, you just stayed silent. Behind you, maybe-Steve was dragging himself out of bed, untangling his clothes from yours, and doing a shitty job of trying to stay quiet.
“You think about it, aight? But I know you’ll come. For Brucie.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Johnny was right. ‘Course you’d go back for Brucie.
“Aight well, I’ll let ya go then. Sorry for wakin’ you up.”
“Johnny, wait.”
He hesitated. “Yeah, kid?”
“How’d you get my number?”
There were about a million questions you wanted to ask Johnny, although you knew yourself enough at this point to know that you wouldn’t want the answers. So you asked the safest one you could think of.
He chuckled softly. “I keep an eye on my friends,” he replied cryptically before he said goodnight again, and the line went dead. You wished you knew what that meant, although just knowing that there was someone out there in the darkness who cared for you enough to go to the trouble of checking in with whatever backwater charters you shacked up with (because realistically that was the only way Johnny would ever be able to keep up with you) made your heart warm.
“Who the fuck was that?” demanded maybe-Steve. He was halfway out the door of the dingy room you’d rented in this roadside motel, hoping you might still ask him to stay.
“Old friend,” you said brusquely as you stood up and threw an old tshirt over your bare chest, heading for the door behind him. “Time for you to hit the road,” you told him by way of invitation, pointing towards his bike in the parking lot.
“It’s fuckin’ 3:30 in the mornin’, you sure I can’t just sleep it off here?”
“Nah, fuck that. Get lost.”
He grimaced and spat thickly on the ground. For an instant you wondered if he was going to give you trouble, but he just shook his head in disgust and left you there to curl up on the rickety plastic chair outside your motel room with plans to chain-smoke until sunrise. You watched him go, his tail light streaking across the long, dark, flat expanse of Iowa farmland until it melted with blackness around it. Your mind was fluttering with all kinds of memories and thoughts that Johnny’s voice had stirred up. Rather than try and fight it, you let yourself sink beneath the surface and zone out, wading through a chapter of your life that you’d deluded yourself into believing was over. The sun had climbed up over the horizon by the time you came back to yourself with a bleak glance around the ramshackle motel. Your Sportster was gleaming like a lighthouse over in the corner of the lot under the only tree around for miles, a huge black walnut that seemed to be holding up its branches and asking the sky to sweep it up and take it away from here. Exactly how you felt.
Unable to fight against yourself anymore, you splashed cold water on your face, tied your hair up, shoved your belongings into the leather saddlebags you’d been living out of for the last four years, and got on the back of your Sportster. As soon as you kickstarted your bike, you knew where you were going. Straight back to Chicago, back to the Vandals, to Benny. Straight back home.
read part 3 here **let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!
#the bikeriders imagine#the bikeriders#benny cross x reader#benny cross x you#benny cross x y/n#benny cross imagine#bikeriders imagine#austin butler x you#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x reader#austin butler imagine
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Summary: Years after the final battle, a retired Endeavor moves out of the city. You are working as his new housekeeper, and you begin teasing feelings from him that he didn't expect. Word Count: 5,025 Warnings: lots of talk about feelings, enji and rei talk about the past, all around there's some mention of past abuse and such, enji has a prosthetic arm, unprotected sex, smut with feelings (lots and lots of feelings), fem!reader, she/her pronouns for the reader, age gap relationship (reader is implied to be the same age as Fuyumi) Tag Lists: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @sweet-chocolate-sweet, @hinomasumi, @renjis-wife
The dream had never changed. Deep down Enji knew his family would never truly be happy with his presence. He had tried to shake off that feeling for Fuyumi’s sake at least. Of all in the Todoroki family, she was the only one who seemed at peace with fate forcing them all together again. All she’d ever wanted was a happy family, but this was not a happy family. It never was, and it never would be.
When Rei asked for a divorce, Enji didn’t fight her on it. He’d been living alone in the old house with the ghosts of the past for the better part of two years anyway, and she deserved a chance to be with someone good. Someone who would see her gentle strength for what it is, and savor her. The last time she’d come by to make sure he had food, he’d finally gotten up the nerve to put a stop to that as well.
“Do you come here because you want to or because you feel you must?” he asked her, his voice gentle despite the raspiness it had acquired. Gentleness, something he never imagined himself practicing.
“Somewhere in between, I suppose,” her voice was unsteady.
“I don’t want you to tie yourself to me any more than you want to. I have more than enough money to hire help,” he sits back against his chair and stretches out his legs. They’re still sore and stiff, but he can stand on his own again, but he still uses a cane sometimes. “You should be using this time to do things you want to do. You shouldn’t worry about me.”
Rei sits down beside him. “A man asked me out,” she confessed with a flush on her cheeks. “I suppose it’s difficult to imagine not being married anymore. I know the divorce was my idea but—”
He doesn’t have to hear the rest to know where she’s going with this. She’s worried if it was the right choice. Despite everything she’s worried about if he will be okay when she moves on. More than anything, she’s worried about stepping forward with a new relationship.
“Is he good to you?” Enji asks.
“Y-yes, he’s very nice. We met at the library.”
“That’s good. Do the kids know?”
“No, I wanted to make sure you were truly okay with this before things progressed.”
“Rei, all I want is for you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” she admits sheepishly.
She feels guilty to an extent. Guilt is an emotion Rei has never quite been able to get over but she has slowly learned not to misplace it anymore. So much of what went wrong was out of her hands, or she’d done her best but living with Enji was certainly living with an unstoppable force. There had been a brief moment in time when it felt like they were at peace, but it hadn’t lasted long. It almost feels like she just imagined things were better than they were. But she remembered the flush on her cheeks the first time he kissed her deeply and held his face in her hands so delicately. She remembers how he fumbled with the clasps on her lingerie on their wedding night then apologized when she winced the first time they were together.
It seemed like almost overnight the gentle cradling of his hands turned into harsh slaps. The gaze that seemed concerned about hurting her when they were intimate became fierce with determination and rage. It had all fallen apart so quickly, and there was no way to pull it back together. It had taken him quite literally being beaten within an inch of his life for him to see the error of his ways. Still, they’d all paid the price.
“You should find some way to be happy too,” Rei breaks the silence. “I know you think you deserve to be alone forever atoning, and maybe you do, but everyone who loves you wants to see you happy.”
Enji furrows his brow, “No, I don’t deserve—”
“Being miserable for the rest of your life won’t change the past,” she sighs softly. “And over the last few years, we’ve all seen the change in you. Even Natsuo asks about you sometimes.”
“I have been thinking about leaving the city,” he admits quietly. “This house is much too big for me, and I just…I want quiet.”
“I think that sounds nice,” she smiles softly.
“I found a little place,” he fumbles through his pockets for his cell phone. “Well, Keigo —Hawks— found it for me,” he explains as he pulls up the house listing.
Rei takes the phone from him and looks it over. The house is a small two-bedroom in a tiny town known for its therapeutic hot springs, which are conveniently within walking distance of the house. She can see why Keigo would consider it for Enji.
“It looks nice,” she says as she flips through the photos. “Enough room for you and…Someone special.”
Enji snorts softly, “Ah yes because everyone is on the market for a broken-down hero.”
“Why not? You’re still handsome,” Rei giggles. “You could meet someone.”
“I’ll consider it.”
The weeks pass slowly. With Keigo’s help, Enji closes on the house. Over dinner he’d announced to Shoto and Fuyumi he was moving out of the city. He had texted Natsuo as well to let him know, but he didn’t expect an answer. He just didn’t want Natsuo to feel neglected anymore. He wants Natsuo to know that he’s always on Enji’s mind just like the rest of the children. He’d gone to the hospital to visit Touya as well and tell him the news, and also assure him he’d still be coming to visit him. Touya, who made a miraculous recovery due to some uncovered research from Garaki’s lab, had taken the news worse than Shoto or Fuyumi had.
“You’re running from me?” Touya had croaked, his voice just starting to recover.
“No, nothing like that Touya.” Enji’s cane taps across the floor as he comes closer to the glass looking into Touya’s chamber.
It seemed like yesterday Touya was locked in a tank, but now he’s able to have a proper bed. His skin is growing back slowly due to the regeneration cells used in his treatment. The doctors said within a couple of years he’d be healed, albeit with some scarring.
Enji places his hand on the glass, “Perhaps when you’re ready, you could come live with me.”
“You’d want that?” Touya looks up at him, tears brimming in his blue eyes.
“I’d love that,” Enji smiles softly.
Touya comes to the glass and places his hand over Enji’s. “Save a room for me, yeah?”
“Always.”
With all of that settled, the day came for him to move. He was a little nervous. Keigo and Shoto, to his surprise, came to help him move. Fuyumi did as well, but she spent a lot more time worrying about him being far away. No matter how many times he reminds her that he’s only a short train ride away, close enough for him to come to the city every day if he wants, she still worries about him being lonely.
“I know how you are,” she says as she follows the guys outside as they load the moving van. “You’re liable to just lock yourself in the house and not talk to anyone for days.”
“Well, don’t worry too much about that. I hired a housekeeper,” Keigo speaks up.
“You did what?” Enji frowns.
“Yeah, she’s a real nice girl.”
“Oh! That sounds nice,” Fuyumi grins. She and Keigo share knowing looks that Enji picks up on, but decides not to say more. The last thing he wants to do is encourage this behavior.
Once the moving van is packed up, Shoto and Fuyumi offer to drive it to the new house. Enji rides in the car with his driver.
You’re already at the house, using the key Keigo had given you to let yourself in. He had told you that you would be working for Endeavor when you were hired. Many of the housekeepers he’d interviewed walked out the moment he revealed the identity of the client, but you had remained level-headed.
“He is still trying to atone for his mistakes,” Keigo had told you.
“He helped save the world,” you smile kindly. Keigo was pleased you remembered that. “I suppose the least I can do is keep the house clean and mind my own business.”
He’d hired you on the spot, and now you find yourself getting the house ready for him to move. Keigo had even sent you some money to go buy some basics for the house. You may or may not have taken some liberties. You were putting together a bouquet on the porch when the moving van pulls up and is followed soon after by the car.
“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath. You hadn’t expected him to be here today. You stand up quickly with the flowers in your hand.
You see Shoto and Fuyumi first, they hop out of the moving van. You wave to them, noticing how Shoto seems a little shy when he waves back. Fuyumi smiles softly and walks up to introduce herself.
“I’m the housekeeper,” you explain after introducing yourself.
“It’s nice to meet you! It’s good to know someone will be around to help him and stuff,” Fuyumi sighs happily.
For some reason, her attitude has you expecting a feeble old man to emerge from the black car. Instead, the man who emerges is instantly recognizable as a former number-one hero. He’s tall and still broad as though he works to keep in shape despite his forced retirement. The only hint of his injuries is his cane and the few scars he has on his face.
“Hello, Todoroki-san!” you smile softly as you come down the steps to introduce yourself to him. He greets you with a kind smile before looking at the flowers clutched to your chest.
“Are those for me?” he asks uncertainly.
“Oh! Uhm…Yes!” you lie and hold out the unfinished bouquet.
He chuckles softly as he takes the flowers and blushes. He’s never been gifted flowers before. It makes his heart flutter in a way he didn’t expect. “Thank you.”
“I hope you don’t mind, I’ve been cleaning inside to get everything ready for you. Takami-san gave me some money to buy some things for the house.”
“I see,” Enji sighs softly. Of course, Keigo would make sure you take on the role of a lady of the house. He feels embarrassed at the idea of Keigo putting in so much effort just to hook him up with someone.
“I bought a few groceries, and of course, some cleaning supplies and Takami-san said you didn’t have much for decor so—”
When Enji opens the door to his new house, it almost looks as though you’ve moved in. It’s what Keigo had told you to do, start some decorating to make it feel like a home. Enji notices the pretty rugs and floral tapestries you have on the walls. He looks down at you, raising his eyebrow.
“I can take it down if you don’t like it,” you blush.
“It looks nice!” Fuyumi says as she walks in behind the two of you.
“Heh, it’s pretty,” Shoto smirks and playfully nudges his dad.
“It’s fine,” Enji groans before taking the box Shoto is carrying from him.
“Would any of you like some tea?” you offer, hoping to break the ice. You feel a little silly now; already being here when he arrived, having decorating…It didn’t matter if Keigo encouraged you to do it, you feel foolish.
“Tea would be nice,” Fuyumi says as she follows you in the kitchen. Shoto goes out to get more of the boxes out of the moving van.
“Todoroki-san, would you like some too?” you ask. You can’t help blushing when you realize he’s putting your flowers in some water.
“That’d be nice, thank you,” he responds.
While you’re making the tea in the kitchen, he sets the flower vase on the kitchen table. Then he and Fuyumi go to look around the house. He notices right away how much effort you’ve already put into it. Everything is spotless and there’s a few touches here and there that show you’ve tried to make it more comfortable.
“She seems nice,” Fuyumi comments to him as they step onto the back porch to look around at the garden.
“She does,” Enji agrees nonchalantly.
“Very pretty,” she adds.
“Oh, want her number?” Enji offers, wholeheartedly sincere in his words. Ever since Fuyumi came out to him, he’s been doing his best to be as supportive as possible.
“Not exactly what I was thinking,” Fuyumi giggles. She looks in through the door to make sure you’re not close by. “I was thinking you should ask her out.”
“You have to be kidding me! She’s the same age as my children!”
“So? If she likes you and stuff,” Fuyumi giggles.
“Absolutely not!” he insists.
“Sorry, sorry,” Fuyumi giggles. She leans against the door frame as Enji looks at the potted plants you placed out. “It’s a good thing she decorated. You wouldn’t have thought to do it.”
“She could’ve waited until I asked,” he grumbles under his breath.
“Well, your feathered friend is pretty persuasive,” Fuyumi reminds him.
Within a few hours, it’s only the two of you in the house. You’re busy unpacking boxes when he sees everyone off. His body is a little achy, as it always is after a full day of activity. He wishes he still had his youth some days, but then again he’s grateful for the clarity he’s found in his age.
“You should rest,” he says softly as he walks into the living room where you’re fussing with the curtains. You’re not quite tall enough to get the rod on the hook. With ease, he reaches over you and fastens the hook. You smile up at him before straightening the curtains.
“I should at least make your bed before I leave,” you insist.
“No, really, that’s not necessary.”
You giggle as you look up at him, “Sure it is! Where will you sleep if I don’t?”
“I’m capable of making my own bed,” Enji blushes and steps away.
“Yeah, but I get paid to make your bed,” you argue playfully.
He rolls his eyes at you, “Fine, fine. But then I want you to go home and I don’t want you coming in too early.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t overwork myself,” you brush past him and make your way to the bedroom.
He follows you, although he’s not sure why. He leans against the door frame and watches you dig the sheets out of the box Fuyumi had helpfully labeled ‘linens’ and begin making the bed. The thought suddenly crept up on him that you might be the first woman to be in his room in years. He turns away quickly and walks away.
You notice him stomping off, but of course you don’t know why. You hum softly as you make the bed then throw the pillows on it.
“Todoroki-san, should I make you something to eat before I leave?” you ask as you breeze into the kitchen where he’d been taking solace from what your presence was starting to do to him.
“N-no,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Call me Enji! You don’t have to use honorifics.”
“Oh,” you blush deeply. You’d spent all day wondering if you should’ve called him Endeavor-sama or Todoroki-san and now suddenly he’s permitting you to call him by first name. Yet he won’t turn to look at you and he seems so damn eager to get out of your presence. You clear your throat and when he turns around, you’re bowing at the waist. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”
Enji feels like he’s going to melt. He shakes his head and comes closer to you, placing one hand on your shoulder to guide you to stand straight again.
“You haven’t,” he assures you softly. “I’m sorry…I didn’t expect…you.”
“Oh? Did Takami-san not tell you I was going to be here?” you blush. “Did you not want a housekeeper? I’m so sorry! I must have seemed crazy all day—”
“No! No, listen it’s fine. I’m glad you’re here to help me,” he lets out a sigh. “I just meant you’re very…Uhm…” His words fail him completely. Pretty? Yeah, sure you’re quite pretty but he can’t tell you that. Nor can he tell you that it’s been ages since he was close to a woman besides Fuyumi and Rei, one of which was his daughter and the other his now ex-wife who he never deserved to be close to in the first place. “Fuck,” he growls and turns away again.
“How about tomorrow we can start over?” you suggest shyly.
“Start over?”
“Yeah,” you come closer to him and place your hand on his back. “It’ll be good.”
“Alright, that sounds good,” he agrees.
True to your word, the next morning you come into the house with a fresh smile. You don’t even say anything about the awkwardness from the day before. You make cheerful morning conversation, and as Enji sits at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and watching you cook, he can’t help wondering if anyone in his family was ever this content in his presence. Does he deserve this feeling now? Maybe he’s a desperate old fool, but he admires you. You’re sweet and funny, even towards him. You aren’t graceful all the time, but you are confident. Even when you mess up, you giggle through it in a way he’d never be able to imagine.
As the days go on, he becomes even more of a fool for you. He can’t help it.
He finds himself at the grocery store and passing the flower section, he considers buying you some. He remembers you had a bunch of daisies in the house and he realizes they must be your favorite. He picks up a bouquet of them, but then changes his mind at the register only to then change his mind right before paying.
He comes home to the sight of you sweeping off the front porch. You were wearing a pair of corduroy overalls that hugged your curves in a way that had made him bite his lip when you first arrived this morning. He notices your bare feet. This morning your hair had been down, but now you have it pulled into a messy updo. He’s always liked long hair. Rei had grown her hair out as his insistence, but he’d been thrilled when she cut it off after their divorce. She was healing.
“How was the grocery shopping?” you ask as he comes up the steps.
“Good,” he grumbles and shoves the flowers at you. His cheeks are flaming red, and he doesn’t look you in the eyes.
“For me?” you giggle.
“Y-yeah, take them home,” he rushes past you.
You watch him go into the house, and you smile softly to yourself before going into the kitchen behind him. He’s putting away the groceries when you find a vase to put your flowers in.
“My roommates would probably just knock them over, so I think I’ll keep them here,” you explain as you set the flowers on the counter.
“Roommates?” he asks. Although you’d talked a lot about yourself, you’d never mentioned roommates. You also never mentioned a boyfriend or girlfriend.
“Oh, yeah. I had to get some roommates to help cover the bills,” you shrug.
“Is Keigo not paying you enough?” he asks and he’s already fishing into his pocket for his checkbook.
“He’s paying me plenty,” you insist.
“How much do you need?” he opens the checkbook and places it on the counter.
“Really, it’s okay!”
“Just tell me,” he presses on.
“Enji, stop!” you snap. His eyes come to meet yours. He can see right away that you regretted taking such a tone with him, and he has to fight down his own pride wanting to lash back out.
“I was trying to help,” he growls softly.
“I know, but it’s fine,” you insist. “Lots of people my age have to have roommates. We’re not all heroes making bank.”
He watches the way you force a sad smile before turning away. It had been his desire only to take care of you, but of course, he always pushes too hard and breaks the things dear to him.
The rest of the day is quiet, and for the first time in months, you don’t stick around for dinner.
He’d been shocked the first day you called out of work. You told him you weren’t feeling well, and just needed to rest. He’d been sure to keep up with all your chores for you so that you wouldn’t be overburdened when you returned. But then you called in for a second time, then a third.
It was almost a week before you finally showed yourself again. This time you weren’t smiley and happy like before. Your brows were furrowed as he sat down at the kitchen table in front of you. You’re staring into your coffee trying to get up the nerve to slide the envelope across the table to him.
“What’s this?” he asks, pointing to the little cream envelope.
“It’s…My two weeks notice.”
“Your what?” his eyes widen and he wants to pretend he’s not hearing this. Fuck, you were the only thing that made him want to get out of bed most mornings.
“I just think maybe I shouldn’t work for you anymore, Todoroki-san.”
“Why?” he feels like his chest is being ripped open. “Because of the money thing? I am sorry about that! I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s not that,” you sniffle back some tears. “It’s really not that.”
“I see,” he looks miserable. “Is it me? Did I offend you?”
“No! No, nothing like that.”
His hands are shaking as he tries to find something, anything to make you stay. He doesn’t want to lose you. Just thinking that you would walk out that door today, and he would never see you again, he felt like dying.
“Don’t go,” he pleads. His pride be damned.
Little did Enji know, you were leaving because you’d fallen for him. It happened so suddenly that you hadn’t even realized it. Everything had just fallen into place, and every time you came to work it felt more like coming home. All of his little quiet gestures, like buying you flowers and making sure to keep your favorite tea around even though you only told him once which one you liked best, had made you feel like maybe he felt the same way. When he’d offered you a check, you’d felt like a commodity instead. It had made you wonder if he only did nice things to keep you around. But now…He’s pleading. You never thought you’d hear Endeavor plead.
“I just think it’s for the best,” you whisper before standing up. You grab your purse to leave before you lose your nerve.
Enji rushes to his feet. The kitchen table is pushed aside as it just becomes an obstacle keeping him from you. The effort of pushing it sends a sharp pain through his back. At the same time, he takes his first quick steps towards you, he falls to his knees from the nerves in his back searing with pain. Still, his hands reach for you, grabbing at your skirt. He’s fought through worse pain than this.
“Don’t go, please don’t go. I’ve been alone…For so fucking long,” he pleads, not caring how foolish he looks. “I know I’m a stupid man. I’ve made mistakes, and I fucked up because I couldn’t just tell you…How I feel…”
“Enji, let me help you up,” you whimper as you try to pry his hands off your skirt. He wraps his arms around your legs instead.
“Don’t go,” he pants softly and he nuzzles his face against your thighs. “Stay with me, just…Stay!”
“Enji,” your hands are gentle in his hair as you lower yourself onto his lap. You kiss him softly on the cheek before hugging him tight, burying your face in his chest. “I…I love you…”
“Oh…oh…” he wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes you against his body. His nose is in your hair, taking in your scent and his hands are kneading at your sides. “My precious girl…” he gently kisses you. The taste of your lips makes his blood run hot, and you can feel the heat rising on his skin.
Everything else is forgotten now. He may not have told you he loves you, but every touch proves it. The way his tongue is slow and tentative against yours, his hands are gentle yet insistent as he touches you. He keeps your body pressed close to his, not wanting to part even a little from you. Even his moans, the first time you grind against him, are so incredibly desperate.
“Can I touch you?” he asks between kisses.
You nod eagerly and he pushes up your skirt. His thick fingers brush against the wet spot on your panties, making you moan softly for him. Months of shy smiles and lingering touches culminated into this hunger neither of you can contain any longer.
He pushes your panties aside carefully and begins rubbing your slit carefully. His hands are a little shaky, it’s been so long since he’s done anything like this. Already his mind his in a daze.
“Is this good?” he asks.
“Y-yes,” you pant softly and spread your legs a little wider for him.
Every moan he manages to draw out from your body makes his cock twitch in his jeans. The outline of his cock is finished off with a thick, sticky splotch of precum on leaking through. He feels needy, feral even. Your walls are hot on his fingers, making him hunger even more to be inside of you.
“I need you,” he growls as he pulls away from your kiss.
He can’t be bothered to take the time to do this properly. He needs you now, and he can tell by the look in your eyes that you need him too.
“I need you too,” you whisper.
He pushes you against the kitchen cabinet, only making space enough between your bodies for him to open his pants and push them just past his ass. Then, he’s hovering over you once more, guiding your legs around his waist. You only get the quickest glimpse of his cock and the dark red patch of hair at the base before he’s pinning you against the cabinet and pushing into you carefully. Your arms wrap around his waist and your hands rest on his ass.
“F-fuck,” you whine as his girth stretches you past anything you’ve felt before. He knows he’s big, huge even, and that’s why he’s going slow despite every instinct to slam into you.
“You feel fucking amazing,” he groans softly.
He clings to your body like he never wants to let you go. He works his way into your warm walls and pauses so you can both acclimate to the feeling once he’s bottomed out.
By the time he starts his pace, he’s rutting into you like a man gone wild. His face his buried against your chest, his mouth drooling and biting at your tits through your thin shirt. He loved that you didn’t wear a bra, he had noticed it from day one but didn’t want to be a pervert. Now he’s leaving saliva stains right on your shirt from biting at your nipples.
“You’re fucking perfect, so perfect,” he pants as he fucks you. “Love you, love you, love you…” he emphasizes every declaration of love with a deep thrust.
You can’t even make a coherent thought come out of your mouth. You can only moan and cry his name in blazes of ecstasy. It’s music to his ears, knowing he’s managing to bring you to this state. You don’t even manage to warn him when you cum on his cock. The pleasure takes over your senses completely. He can only tell by the way you grind against him and your walls clench so tight around his cock that you’ve reached your peak. His nails dig into the meat of your thighs as he feels himself reaching his climax.
“Shit shit shit,” he grunts. “Do I…fuck…pull out?”
Your hands grip tighter on his ass, “No, please!”
His eyes roll back in his head as he quickens his pace. His hips snap frantically, and he shakes when he reaches his peak. You’re filled and then some with his seed. It’s dripping out even as he continues to fuck it into you.
Finally, he slows himself to a stop. You’re limp and weak in his arms. Your head rests on his shoulders.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he rubs your back.
“Mhm,” you hum sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed.
He carefully holds onto you as he stands. He manages to hold you with one arm long enough to pull his pants up. They hang loosely from his waist as he carries you to the bedroom and gently lays you down.
“Rest,” he whispers and kisses you quickly. “Let me take care of you.”
“Will we do it again?” you ask as you watch him dig through his drawers for a shirt to dress you in. He didn’t realize until now that he’d ripped your clothes.
“You don’t regret it?” he asks as he carefully undresses you only to slip a black sweatshirt onto your body. It’s big on you, and he loves the sight of you in his clothes.
“Not at all,” you smile softly.
“Then, we’ll do it again,” he promises. “Next time, I’ll go slow. I’ll make love to you like you deserve.”
“Mm, sounds good,” you giggle as you snuggle up on the bed. “Nap first though.”
“Yes, yes, nap first,” he agrees.
#🌸.writes#enji todoroki x reader#mha endeavor x reader#endeavor x reader#enji todoroki#endeavor#endeavor mha#endeavor bnha x reader
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DOUBT SEEPS INTO ME AND I CAN’T GET IT TO STOP (BUT YOU CAN) ( charles leclerc. )
charles leclerc x reader
uncertainty plagues her mind, and self-sabotage looms over her shoulder, as if its whispering in her ear to tell her it’s a bad idea. he still manages to be the voice on top of all her doubts at the end of the day.
authors note: literally wrote this because this is how i felt while i waited for the days to pass so i could ask the guy i like for his number. mf got me feeling in love and shit, listening to mitski and lana del rey, writing fucking poems. liking a guy is the best and worst thing ever. gonna work on other things soon tho!
THE THOUGHT OF LOVE twisted her stomach into knots. even the mere thought of simply asking a guy for his number made her body churn with anxiety and the looming feeling of rejection held over her head.
relationships never lasted for her because she wouldn’t let them, the idea of getting too attached and the possibility of it shattering her heart was too great to risk it. she would watch from afar, stalk his socials, but never had the guts to approach him, or even look his way.
all throughout high school, she dreamed of a relationship that others around her had, but she lacked everything they didn’t. social skills were never her things, and confidence was something she always lacked. she just wanted to be a teenage girl in love, and she wouldn’t get that. she wasn’t sure she ever would.
she felt as though she was unloveable. even though it was so easy for her to give love, it was far harder to accept it. if anything, it was impossible for her to even imagine doing so. her trust was a thin thread that always seemed to snap. no matter how many times she tried to re-tie it, it always came back undone.
it wasn’t like she never liked any guys, boy she did, but the chase factor was a part of every single one. she never had guys come to her, and she would never go to a guy. still, she chased and chased, yet she never caught up. she worried she never would.
she worried she would never experience the thrill of being in a relationship, all because that thrill was shrouded with anxiety, uncertainty and distrust, though the distrust mostly lied within herself. deeply rooted in her brain was the idea that she wasn’t capable of ever accepting she could be loved, that someone would ever be so patient, understanding, and wanting.
she wanted it so bad, yet she felt like this. it felt stupid, she felt stupid. she felt like a walking contradiction because she couldn’t make up her mind. her heart wanted one thing, and her mind shut it out. a defense mechanism that she felt could never disable, that tinkering with it would only worsen the intensity. deep breaths only temporarily stopped the nausea that plagued her stomach, but only giving the man, the one she so desperately craved to be with, up would change how she felt.
she was a hopeless romantic at heart, but at mind, she was never going to let love in. as much as she held out her accepting arms, vines adorned with thorns grew through her veins, lacing her fingertips with sharp edges to cut back anyone who would try to get close.
the week leading up to finally getting his number went by so painfully slow; she had built herself up too high in those days. she worried she would come crumbling down before she even managed the chance of getting close. from afar she watched, glances exchanged and she gushed to her friends, but she could never be so sure that they were meant for her. after all, she was just an employee for ferrari, he was an athlete in the sport.
her friends were unsure if the brunette was the right fit for the girl, if he was even attainable at all. he was known for being a red flag among fans, he literally drives for a team based around the color red. she didn’t care, she was convinced he was right for her, but still she was scared she wasn’t his type. she knew he wasn’t taken, his entire private life, which was never even private to begin with, was broadcasted across the internet. if he had found someone new, she would know, and for now he hadn’t.
oh, she desperately wanted to be a wag. who wouldn’t? her job made it complicated though, she worked under the team, she didn’t have authority anywhere, she was a nobody. she never knew how she managed to catch his striking gaze to begin with.
she thought she would’ve looked like an idiot, an awkward, nervous girl in front of the charles leclerc, prince of ferrari. she felt like one, maybe she was, but the way he looked down at the shorter girl gave her the courage she needed to mutter the words she had thought about saying everyday for the past week.
“uh—could i get your number?” she barely managed out, she was nervous, it was evident in her tone and the way her voice was up an octave. his brunette hair and green eyes were enchanting, she had fantasized about him for that week. she even went as far as making a playlist to listen to to occupy her time, laying around when she wasn’t at her job. she had never been this lovesick for a guy in her entire life until she first laid eyes on him.
the sick feeling in her stomach became all too familiar, she hated it at first, but now she began to feel comfort in the sickness, and began to miss it over the weekend. the mopey love feeling of hopelessness while listening to lana del rey, or mitski. the fantasization of how the scenario would play out in her favor etched itself into her brain.
the moment of silence was harsh, she could feel the rejection coming. she braced herself for it, holding her breath.
he looked down at her with those damn eyes, a certain gleam in the light reflection over his pupils, part of her knew his response before he did. a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he pursed his lips to hide the smile forcing its way on his face.
he couldn’t deny the pretty girl in front of him, he could tell she dolled herself up for this, for him. he wouldn’t let her efforts go to waste, but that wasn’t the sole reason he didn’t reject her. her confidence sparked something inside of him.
he had plenty of girls who threw themselves at him, buying him drinks, or whatever they could to get their hands on him and themselves in his bed. she was different, a breath of fresh air in the fog. her awkward nervousness was endearing. he hadn’t meant to leave her hanging so long, but he admired her.
his smile brightened, looking down at the phone she clutched so tightly, her skin began turning white. “of course, darling.”
she certainly hadn’t expected to hear the words and yet she did. she was so unprepared, scrambling through her phone. should she write it in her notes app? should she go ahead and shoot him a text? what should she send? should she send a ‘hi’ text? should she send him an imessage game? the music she had listened to throughout the week hadn’t prepared her for this.
his brow raised at her, his arms crossed in front of him as he watched her panic slightly. he was so patient, waiting for her cue that she was ready to take his number and save it in her phone. he recited the string of numbers to her and she smiled internally. she was so giddy inside, yet she couldn’t show it. she couldn’t show how much this excited her, but she would talk her friend’s ear off at her actions because for once she had done something to take a step forward towards a relationship she wanted.
“thank you!” she squeaked out, mentally facepalming—she sounded a little too grateful for something as simple as his phone number. she couldn’t wait to run far away and into the corner of her work office, hiding behind her job position.
he smiled as she scurried off, looking at his phone as it lit up at the movement. he knew to expect the text from the girl later, not now though, because he could feel the nervousness radiating from her body.
later that night, he had received the very text he had been waiting to see. an unsaved number with a blank contact photo he knew was her without reading the contents of the message. his stomach fluttered at the words in the texts, and the following imessage game, 8 ball. it was oh, so endearing to him.
the text contained a simple ‘hiii’ and a simple reminder that she was the girl who asked for his number—as if he had been handing his number out to other people. he texted back, it was simple enough because he didn’t want to scare her off, but he also didn’t want her to overwhelm with worry that he just wasn’t interested in her. he was.
simple texts throughout the day, telling each other what they’re doing, company lunches whenever they had time. flying her out to watch his races, inviting her to his driver's room to watch the race from there because the possibility of their relationship becoming a reality was just a secret for now. the entire process he was just so understanding, it baffled her. he was gentle, like a dog laying their head in your lap, so blissful and light. days he would lay across a couch with his head in her lap as he let her mess with the strands of his dark, brunette hair. she commented on different, potential haircuts his mother could give him and he chuckled at the ridiculous ones she suggested.
something so simple showed her the trust he gave her, the trust he was slowly earning.
slowly, they hung out more. instead of spending his time in clubs after podiums, he spent time with her in his drivers room, or a restaurant about to close—he would leave a hefty tip for the inconvenience.
eventually, she would appear in his garage, watching with a headset on her ears, simply posing as a ferrari employee holding more importance than she really did—except to charles, she held all the importance in the world.
she never knew how he didn’t get pricked by the thorns adorning her body, how not a scratch tainted his even skin, not a drop of blood.
maybe it was because he knew that behind the thorns that laced her body, waiting was a rose. a reward so sacred and so fragile. to be shielded from the world in his very arms was her trust, her love, her mind, her thoughts, her everything.
in his arms, she felt everything she longed for; security, openness, trust, loyalty. he showed her what her heart was worth.
—
taglist (found here): @decafmickey @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej @thearchieves @soamericn
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#cl16#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 17
dbf!joel miller x female reader
"If he's a serial killer, then what's the worst That could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"
summary: joel went back to town for help
warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.
CHAPTER 17
masterlist!
previous | chapter 16
next | chapter 18
Joel sat in the dimly lit truck, gripping the steering wheel as his mind raced. Every passing motel sign felt like a twisted beacon of hope, and yet, nothing—just more dead ends.
He couldn’t stop.
The thought of you out there, taken, in some nightmare he couldn't quite piece together, was enough to drive him insane. He didn't know who this man was, didn't know his name, but Joel remembered the handwriting—he'd seen it in guest books at motels, on receipts left behind, under fake names, always a step ahead.
He slammed his fist into the dashboard, frustration bubbling inside him, pulling him under like a riptide.
The FBI was after him, every second ticking down like a clock he couldn't stop. Joel had become the face of a crime he didn't commit, and now the world believed he was the monster. His brother Tommy had no idea about the depth of this nightmare, and Joel wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep that secret.
Ellie kept calling, desperate to find him, but he couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t risk it—not when the only thing that mattered now was finding you. The guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast. He couldn’t protect you. He had failed. But he wouldn't let it end here.
Hotel after hotel, state after state—the same fluorescent vacancy signs blinking back at him, taunting him like the glow of distant stars that could never be reached.
He had been here with you, in these places, laughing in the safety of their anonymity. But now, those memories had turned to ash in his hands. Every room felt hollow, stripped of meaning, just like the heart inside his chest.
The guest books were all the same—fake names, neat handwriting, the kind that made Joel’s skin crawl with recognition. The bastard was mocking him, leaving a breadcrumb trail that twisted and turned like a sick game of cat and mouse.
And Joel, in his desperation, was losing—losing time, losing you.
Two weeks had passed since you were taken, and each second since felt like it carved another piece from his soul. His temper flared now—small arguments turning into wild eruptions with motel clerks who wouldn’t let him see the guest books.
More than once, his hand found itself tangled in the collar of some poor receptionist’s shirt, his voice hoarse, demanding, begging for information. Every time, he had to stop himself, had to remember that he was a fugitive. That the world had turned against him.
Disguises, fake hats, beards—he did what he could to move undetected. But he couldn’t hide from himself. The nightmares came every night, slithering into his dreams like poison, filling him with scenes of you screaming, of blood, of hands he couldn’t reach.
He drowned it out the only way he knew how—pills, whiskey, whatever he could find. His body was exhausted, his mind unraveling thread by thread, as the days bled into each other.
And then the questions started, sharp and relentless, piercing his already fraying sanity. What if you weren’t taken? What if you had seen the news about him? What if you knew everything—Ben, Jamie, the blood on his hands—and you ran? Fled from him, from the monster he had become.
His heart clenched at the thought, a black hole opening in his chest. No. He couldn’t believe that. You wouldn’t. But the thought twisted inside him, planting seeds of doubt he couldn’t shake.
Was it safe to go back? Could he risk returning to town, even in secret, just to see Tommy? To beg for help? But would you be there? What if you were hiding from him? The questions swarmed like locusts in his mind, buzzing louder and louder until he couldn’t think. He had to go back.
***
Ellie slammed her fists on the table, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “Tell me where the fuck he is, Tommy. I need to see him.”
Tommy leaned back in his chair, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. His hands rubbed his temples as he tried to keep his composure. “Ellie, I don’t know where he is.”
“You lied!” Ellie snapped, her eyes wide with disbelief. “He’s out there, hunted, I need to find him!”
“I said I don’t know, Ellie!” Tommy barked back, his voice strained with frustration. “We were supposed to meet in Miami, before all this shit happened. But now? I don’t know where the hell he is.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Ellie’s voice trembled with anger and fear, her fists clenched tight at her sides. “You know something. You have to.”
“Ellie, stop!” Tommy’s voice cracked, the weight of the argument pressing hard against him. His eyes were bloodshot, tired, and filled with a desperation he hadn’t shown before. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze.
Maria stepped in between them, her voice a soft but firm plea for calm. “Both of you, stop. This isn’t helping. We need to think straight about this.”
Silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken fears. Ellie turned away, frustrated, pacing the living room like a caged animal. She had been staying with Tommy and Maria since Joel had vanished, their home feeling more like a prison with each passing day.
That night, the house was quiet. Tommy and Maria were asleep, their babyboy, Luke, stirring occasionally in his crib. But Maria heard something.
A noise—a creak in the floorboards that didn’t belong. She slipped out of bed, moving with the cautious grace of a mother on high alert. She headed to the kitchen to prepare formula for Luke, but then… she heard it again.
Her heart raced, fear crawling up her spine. Was it a burglar? An intruder? She called out for Tommy, but no answer. Grabbing Tommy’s golf club, Maria moved carefully down the hallway, her knuckles white around the handle.
And then a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.
“Shh.”
She froze.
The hand let go, and she spun around, her heart pounding in her chest. “Joel?!”
Joel’s face was gaunt, shadowed by exhaustion, his eyes sunken deep into his skull. He held his hands up, trying to calm her, but Maria’s body shook with shock and fear.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she hissed, backing away slowly, the club still in her grip. The news reports about Joel raced through her mind—murder, fugitives, everything. She had seen him as family once, but now… she wasn’t sure.
“Maria, please,” Joel whispered, desperation seeping into his voice. “I need to talk to Tommy.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Maria’s voice was small now, shaking. “I—" she looked down the hall toward the bedrooms, fear clutching her chest.
“I didn’t do it,” Joel said, stepping closer, his voice low, almost pleading. “I didn’t kill the Gibsons. I swear it.”
Maria swallowed hard, her eyes wide with disbelief. “But you killed the pastor. And the boy.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with a storm of emotions. “I had to. I had to get rid of them to protect her.”
Maria took another step back, her body trembling. Joel could see the fear in her eyes—she was afraid of him now, the weight of his actions hanging between them like a noose.
“Please, Maria,” Joel whispered. “I need to talk to Tommy.”
Tommy awoke to the sound of Maria’s voice, low and strained. He stumbled out of bed, heading toward the kitchen, his heart sinking when he saw who was there.
“Joel? What the fuck are you doing here?”
Joel’s head snapped up, his face a mask of desperation and grief. “Tommy… I need your help. She’s gone.”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, gone?”
Joel’s voice broke as he stepped forward, his hands trembling. “She’s been taken. I—I don’t know what to do.”
Tommy stared at his brother, his eyes wide with disbelief. Joel stood before him like a ghost—hollow, ragged, a shadow of the man he once knew. His face was drawn, eyes sunken with sleepless nights and too much whiskey.
His clothes hung off him, sweat-stained and worn, like they had been clinging to him for days. Tommy could hardly recognize the man in front of him. His brother was now a broken mess, standing on the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go but down.
“Come on,” Tommy muttered, glancing back at Maria, who was still clutching Luke protectively. “Let’s talk somewhere else.”
Maria nodded nervously, holding Luke tighter against her chest, and Tommy led Joel into the living room, the air thick with tension. Once they were alone, Tommy turned to face his brother, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with restrained fury.
“What the fuck, Joel? What have you done?”
Joel’s hands shook as he rubbed his face, his mind racing, searching for words that made sense. But nothing about this made sense anymore. “I didn’t… I didn’t kill the Gibsons. Tommy, I swear to God—someone’s trying to trap me.”
Tommy’s heart raced, every fiber of him wanting to believe his brother, but the weight of everything he’d heard pressed against his chest like a stone. “Trap you? You expect me to believe that? You fucking killed the pastor, Joel! You killed the boy!”
Joel flinched as if Tommy’s words were a physical blow, his shoulders slumping under the guilt he carried like a cross. He looked down at the floor, his voice cracking. “I didn’t have a choice, Tommy. I had to protect her.”
Tommy's stomach churned as he stared at Joel, disgust twisting in his gut. “You had to? Had to what? What the fuck does that mean?” He felt betrayed, a deep wound splitting his chest open. “You lied to me, Joel. You lied to me.”
Joel’s breath hitched, and he lifted his gaze, his eyes bloodshot and full of desperation. “I did it for her. I had to get rid of them to keep her safe.”
Tommy’s head pounded, his world spinning. “Keep her safe? You think killing people is keeping her safe?” His voice rose, barely contained, anger flooding his veins like wildfire.
“The fucking FBI is after you, Joel! Do you understand that? The FBI!” He was yelling now, his words slamming into the walls of the room, reverberating like a storm.
Joel clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "I know that! You think I don’t know how bad it is? I didn’t want this, Tommy, but I’m trying—”
“Trying?!” Tommy cut him off, his voice laced with venom. “You fucking murdered people! And you’re telling me you’re trying?” His hands trembled as he stepped closer, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and sorrow.
Joel’s eyes were hollow, filled with an ocean of guilt he could no longer drown. He took a breath, but it came out ragged, as if the very act of breathing was becoming too much to bear.
“I know… I know I fucked up, Tommy.” His voice wavered, soft, broken. “But I need your help. I need to find her.”
Tommy’s heart twisted painfully. He could see the desperation in Joel’s eyes—the same eyes that had always watched out for him, always protected him.
But now, those eyes were clouded with something darker, something Tommy couldn’t reach. “You lost her?” Tommy’s voice was quiet now, raw with disbelief. “What do you mean you lost her?”
Joel’s hand pressed against his forehead as if he could somehow hold his mind together through sheer willpower. “She was taken. Two weeks ago. I don’t know where she is, and I’ve searched everywhere. I’m losing my mind, Tommy, and I need you to help me find her.”
Tommy stepped back, his hand running through his hair as the gravity of Joel’s words hit him. He had never seen his brother like this—not since Sarah, not since Jane. Back then, Joel had crumbled, but this... this was something worse.
The cracks were deeper now, like his soul was unraveling before Tommy's eyes, and every piece that fell apart took something vital with it. Tommy’s anger began to ebb, replaced by a gnawing worry.
“Joel…” Tommy’s voice softened, heavy with concern. “Tell me everything. What happened?"
Joel sat down heavily, his hands trembling as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a crumpled letter. His fingers, stiff and rough with callouses, were unsteady as he handed it to Tommy.
“This man… he’s been followin’ us. Watchin’ her. I didn’t notice at first, didn’t see it until it was too late.” His voice broke, thick with guilt. "I should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve protected her better."
Tommy took the letter, unfolding it carefully, the paper soft with wear, the ink smudged from being handled so many times. As he read, the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing in around him as the words sank into his chest like stones. The man’s words were obsessive, possessive. A predator circling his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“How the hell did you not notice you were bein’ followed?” Tommy’s voice was a low hiss, disbelief and frustration swirling in his mind. “How could you let this happen?”
Joel’s head dropped into his hands, his fingers gripping his hair tightly as if trying to hold himself together by sheer force. “I don’t know, Tommy. I don’t fucking know. I was tryin’—God, I was tryin’ to protect her, but I didn’t see him… didn’t know.” His voice cracked, and the weight of his own failure bore down on him, suffocating him.
“I can’t get them outta my head. The pastor, the boy… I see their faces every time I close my eyes. I did what I had to, but it’s like their ghosts are hauntin’ me. And now she’s gone, and I—"
Tommy's jaw tightened. Joel wasn’t just running from the law. He was running from himself, from the blood on his hands. The guilt was eating him alive, and now, with you gone, it was suffocating him. Tommy didn’t know if his brother could survive this one.
“We can’t go to the cops, Joel,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head. “They’re after you. You step one foot outside, and they’ll hunt you down. You’re a fugitive.”
Joel's eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, locked onto Tommy’s. "I don't care about me," he rasped. “I just need to find her. I can't lose her, Tommy. Not her too. If I lose her…” His voice faltered, and for a moment, he looked utterly broken.
“I can’t go through that pain again. I can't. It’ll kill me.” His voice cracked, raw with desperation. “Please, Tommy. Please help me.”
Tommy’s heart twisted. Joel had been strong his entire life, but this—this wasn’t strength. This was a man drowning, clutching at anything to keep himself from slipping under.
Before Tommy could say a word, the sound of footsteps echoed softly behind them. They both turned, and there she was.
“Joel?” Ellie stood in the doorway, her voice quiet but full of confusion. Her eyes were wide, full of questions she didn’t even know how to ask yet.
Ellie stood in the doorway, her small frame tense with confusion and concern, her eyes wide and full of unspoken questions that seemed to hang heavy in the air.
For a moment, neither Tommy nor Joel moved—until Ellie broke the silence, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around Joel. The reunion was wordless, raw, and desperate.
She was mad—furious, even—but beneath the anger was relief, deep and overwhelming. She clung to him like a lifeline, her face buried against his chest, and Joel felt the knot in his heart loosen, the guilt he had been carrying since the day he left her finally beginning to lift.
“Ellie…” His voice was rough, laden with everything he couldn’t say. His arms came around her, pulling her close as he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. She was here. Safe. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so fuckin' sorry."
Ellie pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “What the fuck, Joel?" Her voice cracked, caught between anger and the ache of missing him. "I thought something happened to you. I thought you were dead."
Joel closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the wave of guilt that surged through him. He swallowed hard, the weight of what he had done pressing against his chest.
"I miss you every day. But I—" His voice faltered, thick with regret. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm sorry I left you.
Ellie’s gaze softened, and the anger seemed to drain out of her. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, softer.
She hesitated, looking around the room as if searching for something. "Where is she?"
Joel’s heart sank, and he looked away, his jaw tightening. “She’s gone,” he whispered, the words like knives in his throat. “Someone took her.”
“What?” Ellie blinked in shock, her brows furrowing. "But… who? Her parents are dead. Joel—" She paused, her voice lowering. "Did you… did you kill them? Did you kill her parents?"
“No!" Joel's voice was sharp, defensive. "I didn’t kill her parents, Ellie. But I—" He hesitated, his throat tightening.
"You killed Ben and Jamie." Ellie said bluntly. There was a brief, Ellie stared at him, her expression unreadable for a moment, before she exhaled sharply.
“You had to,” she said, her tone flat but understanding. "You did what you had to do." Her words were blunt, as if she'd already accepted the brutal reality they lived in.
“They fucking deserved it.”
Joel nodded, the relief almost too much to bear. He’d been so afraid of losing her too, afraid she would look at him differently. But Ellie, somehow, understood. She always had.
Tommy finally spoke, stepping forward. "You can’t stay here, Joel. The cops are lookin’ for you. The FBI is breathin' down our necks. You stay here, and they’ll catch you. Worse than that, they’ll lock you up for life—if they don’t kill you first.”
“I know,” Joel muttered, his voice low, thick with frustration and dread. “I gotta find her. I have to.”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed, his mind working through the possibilities. “But we gotta be smart about it. No cops. I’ll handle the heat here, keep 'em off your trail, but you—” He pointed at Joel. “You need to figure out who the fuck took her. Any clues? Anythin’ at all?”
Joel’s head spun, trying to piece together the broken fragments of memory. Then, like a flash, it came to him—Chicago. The man, the one who had been following them.
He had seen him, once, back when you had met the man. "Chicago,"
"She tole me about him, I--I don't remember his name, I was too mad at her for talking to people," Joel murmured, his brow furrowing as the memory sharpened. "I gotta go back there."
Ellie, who had been standing quietly, suddenly cut in, her voice determined. “I’m coming with you.”
“No," Joel shook his head, his voice firm. “It’s too dangerous, Ellie. I can’t drag you into this.”
Tommy backed him up immediately. “He’s right, kid. You’re stayin’ here, with me and Maria. We’ll keep you safe.”
Ellie’s eyes flared with frustration, her voice sharp as she threw back Joel’s words. “Like hell I’m staying here, Joel! She’s my friend too! You think I’m just gonna sit around while you go off, risking your life? No fucking way. I’m coming with you. I don’t care what you say!”
Joel’s heart clenched at the fire in her, the same fierce, stubborn defiance that once belonged to Sarah. For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension, like the calm before a storm.
“You stay here, Ellie,” Joel said again, his tone cold, trying to distance himself from the heat of the moment. "You can’t come with me."
Ellie shook her head, her jaw tightening. “No, Joel! I’m not letting you—"
“Ellie!” Joel interrupted, his voice growing sharper. “Ellie, stay here! You need to listen to me.”
She was relentless, her words flying out faster than he could rein her in, her emotions flooding over her like a wave. "I’m not a kid anymore that you can just leave behind! I come with you!”
“Ellie. Ellie!” Joel’s voice started to crack under the weight of it, but she wouldn’t stop.
"Ellie! ELLIE, LISTEN TO ME!"
His shout echoed through the room like a gunshot, halting everything in its tracks. Even Tommy flinched. Ellie froze, her wide eyes finally settling on Joel’s face, the sheer force of his voice cutting through her resolve.
The silence that followed was thick, heavy, and suffocating, like the air had been knocked from the room. Ellie’s breath hitched, her defiance faltering as she saw the raw fear in Joel’s eyes—the kind of fear she hadn’t seen since the days they fought to survive together.
Joel exhaled, his voice softer now but broken, each word trembling on the edge of his guilt and his need to protect her.
“I can’t risk you, Ellie. Not you. You stay here, with Tommy and Maria. I need you to be safe, I need you to be somewhere I know you won’t get hurt. If anything happens to you, I... I can't forgive myself. I can't lose you too, not after everything.” His words faltered, but they were laced with the kind of agony that made Ellie’s heart twist.
He took a step forward, his rough hand reaching out, but Ellie pulled back slightly, her face hardening again, though there was now a flicker of something else—something like fear.
"Tommy," Joel turned to his brother, his voice quieter now, as if every word was scraping at his throat, "keep her safe. If I... if I don’t make it back—”
“The fuck are you talking about?” Ellie’s voice was sharp again, her hands curling into fists. “You are coming back, Joel. Don’t give me this bullshit! You always come back to me!”
Joel looked at her, his expression full of something heavy and unspeakable. He took another step closer, and this time, when he reached for her, Ellie didn’t pull away.
“Listen to me, kiddo.” His voice was rough but tender, the words thick with a sorrow that Ellie had never heard before.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leavin’ you, for not bein’ the dad you needed. I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways. But if something happens to me… if I don’t come back, you need to promise me somethin'. Don’t... don’t blame yourself. Don’t blame anyone. You need to keep going."
Ellie’s throat tightened, her breath coming out shaky. She shook her head. “No. No. You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to leave me.”
“I don’t want to leave you, Ellie,” Joel said, his voice cracking like a dam under too much pressure. “But this man—he’s dangerous. And I... I have to protect her. I have to protect you. And if I don’t—if I can’t, I need you to live. I need you to keep going.”
Ellie’s hands clenched tighter, and she felt the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. Her vision blurred, her heart hammering against her ribs. "You don’t get to do this," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You come back. You have to come back."
Joel cupped her face in his calloused hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears she didn’t realize had fallen. “I’ll try, kiddo. I swear. But if I don’t…” His voice broke completely, filled with the raw pain of a man who had lost too much. "If I don’t make it... I need you to be okay.”
The room felt suffocating, the gravity of the moment pulling them both into an abyss of uncertainty, where words like “promise” and “safe” were fragile, almost meaningless.
Ellie pressed her forehead against his chest, her fists clenching his shirt as if holding him tighter could stop the inevitable. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please don’t go.”
"Don't leave me, Joel."
Joel’s heart shattered into pieces in that moment, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t let her see just how terrified he was, how the thought of leaving her again felt like a death sentence. “I'm sorry,”
Her tears soaked into his shirt, silent but heavy, each drop a reminder of how much he had already failed her—and how much more he stood to lose.
Joel swallowed thickly, his grip on her tightening for a moment longer before he finally let go, stepping back. “I love you, kiddo. More than you’ll ever know.”
Ellie’s breath hitched, and she looked up at him, her eyes full of the kind of fear Joel wished he could take away. But he couldn’t. He could only hope that this wasn’t goodbye.
***
You don’t know where you are anymore. The days and nights blur together in the darkness, the air thick with the stench of rot and decay. It’s been weeks—maybe more, maybe less. Time doesn’t exist here. All you know is the basement—the cold, damp stone pressing into your skin, the stinging scent of mold in your nose, and the unbearable silence, only broken by the occasional scrape of his footsteps above. Negan.
He’s the one who took you.
You barely knew him, barely interacted with him. So why you? Why now? What had you ever done to catch his attention? The questions buzz around in your head like a swarm of wasps, painful and without answers.
The walls seem to close in on you, the darkness thickening with every second. And then you remember—Negan had come to your house once, a visitor to your father. He was "Mr. Smith," you remember his last name.
But you didn’t think anything of it then. Just another face, another stranger. But since that moment, he had been watching you.
Negan had stalked your every move, following you through the shadows like a predator sizing up its prey.
When he visits, he talks. Always talks. As if the sound of his own voice fills the silence. "You and that ol' man of yours... too busy wrapped up in your own little world, huh?" He chuckles, the sound rough and mocking. “Joel’s a damn fool. Thinkin’ he could protect you, thinkin’ he could keep you safe. Hell, he’s worse than I thought, fallin’ for a broken little thing like you.”
His words cut like shards of glass, and each time you hear them, they reopen wounds you’ve tried to keep hidden deep inside.
Negan paces the room, his boots echoing in the small space. “Joel thinks he’s clever, doesn’t he? Killin’ Ben and Jamie to keep you all for himself.” He laughs, dark and low, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the basement. “He’s too damn stupid to see what’s right in front of him. Me.”
The way he says it, the way his eyes linger on you, makes your skin crawl.
“He let his guard down,” Negan continues, crouching beside you. “And when he finally let you out of his sight? Well, sweetheart, that just made things a hell of a lot easier for me.”
You want to scream, to lash out, but you’ve barely eaten in days, and your body feels too weak to even stand. The cold stone beneath you feels like a cage, holding you captive as much as Negan’s gaze does.
“What do you want from me?” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.
Negan tilts his head, a cruel smile pulling at his lips. “Want? Sweetheart, I don’t want anything from you.” He leans in, close enough that you can smell the stale scent of smoke and leather clinging to him. “I just want you. That’s it. You’re mine now.”
The bile rises in your throat at the possessiveness in his voice, the certainty in his eyes.
For the past few weeks, he’s tried to feed you, bringing down food that you refused to touch. You’d rather starve than accept anything from him. Negan would sigh and shake his head, annoyed but patient. "You need to eat, darling. Can’t have you wastin’ away on me."
His words feel wrong, as if there's something hidden beneath them, something dark that you can’t quite put your finger on. There's always a certain gleam in his eyes when he brings the food—like he’s savoring a secret that only he knows.
And then there’s the smell.
That unbearable, suffocating stench that lingers in the corners of the basement. It smells like death. Like something rotting. But when you ask him about it, Negan just laughs. "Basements get like that," he says with a shrug, but the way he says it, so casual, so dismissive—it only makes you more certain that something is wrong. Terribly wrong.
Sometimes, when the hunger gnaws at your insides, you almost consider taking a bite, but something deep inside you tells you not to trust it. Not to trust him. You’d rather die here, in the dark, than give him what he wants.
Negan crouches in front of you now, holding out a plate of food, his voice deceptively gentle. “You need to eat, darling. Can’t have you all weak and broken. I like my girls strong. Healthy.”
His words send a chill down your spine, and though you don’t know why yet, you can feel it—the creeping horror hiding just beneath the surface. There’s something wrong with the food, with him. Something monstrous, lurking in the shadows of his every word.
But what?
You swallow hard, shaking your head again, refusing the meal he offers. Negan’s smile tightens, but he doesn’t push. He never pushes. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he rises to his feet, looking down at you with that same dark amusement, like he’s playing a game only he knows the rules to.
“You’ll come around, sweetheart. One way or another.”
As he leaves, you’re left in the dark, your mind spinning, haunted by the rotting smell and the quiet, nagging fear that whatever is happening here is far worse than you could ever imagine.
The cold seeps into your bones, chilling you from the inside out, but it’s not just the temperature. It’s the gnawing fear, the isolation, the uncertainty of what lies ahead.
You can’t stop thinking about Joel. Where is he? Is he safe? Are the cops after him like Negan hinted? The thought tightens in your chest, like a vice slowly crushing your heart. You can barely believe that Joel—your Joel—killed Ben and Jamie. But as much as it shocks you, a part of you understands. He did it to protect you, didn’t he? The idea brings a strange comfort, a warmth amid the cold. Joel, with his strong hands and quiet resolve, would do anything to keep you safe. You liked that. You needed that.
But then, guilt slithers in, twisting and coiling itself around your thoughts. He did it because of you. Because you’re the one who caused all this. Joel shouldn’t have to bear the weight of it all. He can’t be the one to carry the consequences of what’s happened. You wonder if you’ve become a burden, dragging him into this nightmare where death and destruction seem to follow you both like shadows.
You think about the way he used to look at you, the way his rough exterior would soften just for you. His voice, gravelly but so full of warmth, whispers in your memory. You miss him, desperately. His touch, his scent, the quiet strength of his presence. It’s like a piece of you has been torn away, leaving you raw and bleeding, open to every cruel word Negan speaks, every cold gust of air in this filthy basement.
At night, when the world is silent and the shadows stretch long, you imagine Joel’s arms around you, holding you close like he did so many times before. You imagine his breath against your ear, telling you everything would be alright. You wish it were true. You wish Joel were here, with his fierce protectiveness and the way he could shield you from the world, even when it seemed like everything was falling apart.
But you are alone. Alone in the dark with nothing but the echo of your thoughts and the suffocating weight of fear. You’re terrified—terrified to death, even. And it feels like no one will ever find you, like no one will ever know the hell you’re living in. The walls around you seem to close in, and the only thing that keeps you from falling apart is the image of Joel’s face in your mind, his voice a faint whisper in the endless night.
Still, the fear gnaws at you, a ravenous beast. It claws at your insides, making it hard to breathe. You are alone, helpless, and trapped. And yet, in the deepest part of you, there's still a small flicker of hope. It burns for Joel. For the possibility that he’s out there, somewhere, fighting to find you. Because if anyone could save you, it would be him.
Days blurred together in a hazy fog of fear and despair. You knew it was days because each morning, Negan would rouse you from the dark depths of sleep with a cold, menacing presence. He brought food—always meat, always raw and dripping with something that made your stomach churn. You could tell he could cook; the way he handled the food had a practiced ease, but you wanted nothing to do with it. Your heart raced as you shrank away, clutching your knees to your chest, desperate to be invisible.
Today, something shifted in him. His patience seemed to fray like an old rope, unraveling under the weight of his anger. “You can’t keep like this! You need to fucking eat!” he shouted, his voice reverberating in the tight confines of the basement like a thunderclap. The plate of meat he hurled at you missed, clattering harmlessly to the floor as you recoiled, your hands shaking, your body trembling with fear.
Negan had always been rough but strangely composed, treating you with a twisted kind of care. But now, his anger was a raging storm, and you were caught in its eye. He lunged forward, grabbing your face with a grip that felt like iron, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you fucking eat, huh?” The fury in his eyes burned, igniting a primal terror deep within you.
“Please, don’t hurt me! Don’t please!” You cried, the words spilling from your lips like a desperate prayer. But his grip only tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he leaned closer, his breath hot and heavy. “I need you to fucking eat!” The implication hung in the air, a dark cloud cloaked in menace, hinting at the horror that lay beneath his twisted motivations.
Then, with a sudden violent yank, he lifted you effortlessly and tossed you onto the lone mattress in the corner of the basement—the only semblance of comfort in this hellish nightmare. It was stained and worn, a grim reminder of all the other girls who had suffered here, and the air was thick with the stench of decay and desperation. “You need to be taught a lesson, huh?” he snarled, looming over you. “You want me to teach you to be obedient? Why don’t you fucking listen to me?”
Your heart raced as dread enveloped you like a suffocating shroud. You could feel the cold, hard reality of your situation settle over you, a weight that threatened to crush your spirit. “Please, don’t hurt me!” you whimpered, the words spilling out like blood from an open wound.
But Negan’s rage boiled over. He pinned you down, his strength overpowering you, leaving you helpless beneath him. A flash of pain erupted as his fist connected with your side, the blow landing like a hammer against glass, shattering the last remnants of your hope. “You should be grateful you’re still alive for weeks!” he growled, his voice a low, menacing growl. “Usually, the other girls only last a few days!”
Each word was a dagger, slicing into you, twisting deeper until you felt like you were drowning in despair. The room spun, and for a moment, you were lost in the chaos—a captive in a horror movie where the monster was all too real. You could see the flickering shadows dancing across the walls, and for a moment, you imagined they were the spirits of all the girls who had come before you, trapped in this wretched place, their cries echoing in your ears.
Every punch, every insult, was a cruel reminder of your fragility, a stark contrast to the flicker of resilience still fighting within you. You thought of Joel, of the warmth of his embrace and the strength of his spirit. You were more than this dark, stinking basement; you were more than Negan’s plaything. But as the blows rained down, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever see the light again, or if you were destined to fade into the shadows like the countless others before you.
In the depths of your despair, you turned inward, seeking solace in the silent echoes of your own heart. You prayed to God, your words tumbling forth like leaves in a tempest, pleading for this torment to cease. “Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “make it stop.”
But even as you cried out, questions fluttered in your mind like lost sparrows seeking refuge in a storm. Why did this always happen to you? Why were you cursed to walk the valley of shadows, where joy seemed as elusive as a wisp of smoke? It felt as if you were trapped in a parable, a cautionary tale whispered through the ages, where the faithful suffered and the wicked thrived.
You thought of the heavens above, imagined them as vast and endless, a tapestry of stars woven with threads of hope. Yet here you were, a solitary figure lost in the darkness, drowning in a sea of sorrow, with the light of those distant stars barely flickering in your heart. Was this your cross to bear? A burden too heavy for a soul so young?
As Negan’s fists rained down, each blow felt like the hammer of judgment, and your spirit ached under the weight of your own unworthiness. You longed to rise like a phoenix from the ashes, to break free from the chains of misery that bound you, but the flames of suffering held you fast. The biblical tales of resilience echoed in your mind, but you struggled to see yourself as part of those stories—would you ever find your own promised land?
“Am I not worthy of grace?” you questioned the heavens, your heart breaking under the pressure of your own doubts. The walls of the basement closed in around you, suffocating you with their cold embrace, and you felt as if you were wandering in the wilderness, lost and alone, with only the faint whispers of angels to guide you. Would there be a miracle that pulled you from this abyss? Would there be a shepherd to lead you back to the light?
But with each passing moment, the weight of your prayers felt heavier, like a stone cast into a bottomless well. You wondered if your cries reached the throne of heaven, or if they were swallowed by the darkness that surrounded you. “Why, Lord?” you pleaded, your voice cracking under the strain of your emotion. “When will my soul find peace? Why must I suffer while others walk free?”
In that moment, as the pain throbbed through you like a pulsing heartbeat, you realized that perhaps your suffering was not in vain. Maybe the storm would pass, and in its wake, you would emerge transformed, a testament to resilience and strength. Perhaps you were not merely a victim, but a warrior cloaked in shadows, fighting for your own light.
And so, with every ragged breath, you held onto that flicker of hope, whispering your prayers into the void, trusting that somewhere beyond this darkness, there lay a promise of redemption—a divine plan waiting to be unveiled, just beyond the horizon of your pain.
#dbf!joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#pedro pascal smut#joel miller smut#the last of us hbo#dark!joel miller x reader#dbf!joel miller#joel miller the last of us#ethel cain#lana del rey#southern gothic#joel miller age gap#tommy miller#joel tlou#ellie williams#tlou#tlou hbo#joel miller x you#pedro pascal x you#preacher's daughter
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Violets for Roses - Rafe Cameron
One-shot inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Violet for Roses"
Ever since I fell out of love with you, I fell back in love with me
And God knows the only mistake that a man can make is tryna make a woman change and trade her violets for roses
Summary: The reader, an aspiring actress, faces a heartbreaking confrontation with Rafe Cameron, who believes her dreams of moving to Los Angeles are unrealistic and wants her to stay in Kildare to build a simpler life with him. Despite her love for him, the reader realizes that sacrificing her ambitions for his vision would mean losing herself.
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x AspiringActress!Reader
Warnings: Angst & just Rafe being really toxic lol.
The fight with Rafe was brewing long before you even knew it. It was in every dismissive scoff when you mentioned auditions, in every time he’d change the subject whenever you’d dream out loud about Los Angeles. It was in every eye roll when you brought up your favorite actresses or directors, the people you’d studied obsessively since high school. And now, it’s spilling over—weeks, maybe even months of resentment unraveling in his bedroom.
“You’re really just gonna throw us away for some… fantasy?” Rafe’s voice is thick with frustration, every syllable weighted. “You’re not some actress, Y/N. You’re just… you. You’re never gonna be one of those people.”
The words sting like a slap. You’ve heard him doubt your dreams before, subtly, gently, but tonight it’s different. Tonight, he doesn’t hold back. “Why do you care so much about this? About some fake Hollywood life?”
You clench your fists, fighting to keep your voice steady. “It’s not fake, Rafe. This is real to me. It’s everything I’ve worked for, everything I want to be.”
“And that means more to you than us?” His question hangs heavy in the air, a trap you can see coming from miles away but can’t avoid. His blue eyes, usually so warm, are cold now, scrutinizing you.
The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. “I don’t want a simple life,” you finally admit, and it feels like exhaling after holding your breath too long. “I don’t want to stay in Kildare and pretend that’s enough for me when it’s not.”
“Why?” he says, his voice low, like he’s afraid of the answer.
“Because I can’t trade my dreams for yours.” The words spill out, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “I love you, Rafe, but I also love myself. And that means going after this. I’m not going to stay just to keep you happy.”
Rafe’s face softens for a moment, vulnerability breaking through the anger, but it fades quickly, replaced by a steely resolve. “If you leave, don’t expect me to be waiting for you.”
A lump forms in your throat, and you know this is it. If you stay, it’ll be for him, not for you. If you go, it’s a leap into the unknown, one where Rafe might not be in the picture. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”
And with that, you turn and walk away, leaving behind the life he tried to shape for you, the one that never quite fit.
━
Two months later, you’re in Los Angeles, breathing in the open-air scent of Larchmont Village. The warm breeze sweeps across your skin, carrying with it the smell of flowers and freshly brewed coffee. The sun beats down, casting everything in a golden glow, and for the first time, you feel truly free.
It’s a Saturday afternoon, and the girls around you are dressed in sundresses, laughing without a care, exposing bare faces and wide smiles. You smile too, feeling that same joy seep into your bones, like the city itself is welcoming you home. This life, this city—it’s vibrant, messy, electric. It’s everything Kildare wasn’t, everything you were missing.
The Paramount sign sparkles in the distance, a beacon you once only saw in magazines and movie credits, and now, it feels like it’s lighting up just for you. Your heart swells as you look at it, thinking of all the dreams you had, the ones Rafe wanted you to set aside. This city, it doesn’t just allow you to dream; it demands it.
“Ever since I fell out of love with you, I fell back in love with me,” you whisper to yourself, feeling the words settle into your heart. Each syllable is a quiet reminder that loving yourself isn’t selfish; it’s necessary. When you loved Rafe, you’d sacrificed so much of yourself, convincing yourself that his simple dreams were enough. But here, in the warmth of Los Angeles, you’re reclaiming everything you let slip away.
━
You’d never noticed it before, but Rafe’s love had come with conditions. He loved you, yes, but only the parts of you that fit into his life. He was drawn to your fire, but he wanted to tame it, to keep it small and safe so it wouldn’t consume him.
He made you trade your violets for roses, wanted you to choose tradition over the ambition that set your heart ablaze. When you’d talk about acting, he’d say, “That’s great, babe, but don’t you want something real?” As if your dreams weren’t valid, as if they were just fantasies, things to let go of for a white-picket fence, a life that fit his mold. The truck you dreamed of owning, the freedom you craved—he wanted to exchange it for horses and stables, for the steady routine of a life rooted in one place.
And for a while, you let him.
But now, each step you take in L.A. feels like reclaiming a part of yourself. Every coffee shop, every bookstore you stumble into, feels like a universe waiting for you to write your own story. Your days are filled with auditions, with scripts spread across your apartment floor, with nights spent memorizing lines and dreaming of roles you could bring to life.
It’s hard, and you’re not always sure you’ll make it, but it’s your life, and for the first time, it feels entirely yours.
One evening, as you walk down a quiet street, the air still and warm, you think of Rafe. You wonder if he’s missing you, if he’s trying to imagine you in this new world, a world that’s as foreign to him as the one he tried to push you into was to you.
You don’t miss him, though. You miss the girl you were before you let him dim your spark, the girl who once believed she could conquer Hollywood, whose dreams were as boundless as the California sky. And as you walk, the shadows stretch and the quiet settles, you realize that girl is back.
━
One morning, you stand outside a casting agency, the sun warming your face. You close your eyes, inhaling the scent of lilies mixed with the hint of exhaust and coffee from the nearby café. You feel the city’s pulse, its rhythm, and it beats in time with yours.
Rafe had never understood why you’d wanted this life, but that doesn’t matter anymore. The city, with its flashing lights and dusty sidewalks, with its blend of elegance and grit, it understands you. It’s a love that’s pure, that asks for nothing but your own ambition, and it’s a love that feels like freedom.
And so you walk into the building, your heart pounding with nerves and excitement, knowing this is only the beginning.
© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
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