#and typing it all out helps me get it out of my head
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Heâs aged up to 20. not proofread!!!!
âFuck, Is this all fâme baby?â Yuji cooed softly, his voice filled with lustful desires as his thumb hastily scooped up the pearlescent slick that was smeared across your split-opened pussy lipsâ his cock sliding into your warm core in slow and passionate strokes, coaxing even more out from your pussy with each thrusts. âLooks soo fucking tastyâ
His face is visibly in awe as he captures the fluid with the slide of his thumb, swiftly bringing it up and inserting it into his mouth. His tongue eagerly circles around his digit, savoring the taste of your arousal as his gaze remains fixed on the little mess between your thighs.
A muffled âMmmâ escaped his lips and he savored the taste that dawned on his tastebuds, causing your face to flush with embarrassment. It was perplexingâ despite the countless times you and Yuji had sex, he still managed to surprise you with a bunch of weird antics that never failed to humiliate you and leave you flustered each time, resulting in your hand instinctively rising up to cover your blushing expression because you absolutely hate it when he sees you like that.
Sooo embarrassing.
After a good minute of sucking your sticky juices off his thumb, he playfully removed it with a loud *pop!* before snaking his hand back to squish your soft thigh.
âCome on baby, donât be shy. Lemme see that pretty faceâ he playfully declared after he noticed how your hand was covering your face. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as he gently coaxed you to reveal your embarrassed face.
âYou know I couldnât help it when your pussy is drooling on my cock like this, had to taste youâ. He added with a teasing chuckle as he continued gazing adoringly at the way your essence coated his shaft more and more each time he rams it in and out of your warm pussy. He knows that these types of things make you too flustered and shy but he just canât help it when he sees the way your cunt gushes around him so nasty. The way it glistened so prettily on your sex hypnotized him.
âY-yuji stop looking at it!â You mumbled shamefully, you canât see but you can surely feel the fire of his eyes burning into the lewd mess on your pussy. His eyes shoot up to you in amusement, chuckling at your command.
âI canât when sheâs creaming all over me like this, sooo messy and sticky around my cock, youâre so dirty babyâ he chuckled with delight, God the audacity of this man calling you âdirtyâ as if he wasnât desperately trying to savor the taste of your pussy in his mouth like a fucking creep minutes ago.
Feeling the urgency building inside of him because of how good you felt wrapped around him, he hastened increasing his pace, the forceful thrusts of his cock escalating in speed and intensity. You quickly removed your hands from your face and tightly clutched onto the sheets as if your life depended on it because you know he's gonna lose control soon and fuck the brain cells out of your head in mere minutes.
Each movement of his body pressed against yours sent tingles of pleasure coursing down your spine. your pussy clenched around him, tightening around his shaft with such grip like youâre trying to cling onto his cock forever.
âFuck, you feel so good, could never get tired of this pretty drooling cuntâ he confessed, his stiff cock relentlessly pumping into your core, making you whimper even more which only sent more blood rushing to his cock. The soft pink hairs on his base quickly becomes soiled by your wetness as it rubbed against your clit, creating even more friction that drove both of you to the edge.
âAlways making a creamy mess on me, you keep complaining bout me acting like a perv but it seems like you love it? Whaddya say, babe? Pussy is soaking me way too much to have me convinced otherwiseâ he chuckled, his voice hinting with mockery. He readjusted the position, his body hovering over you with his arms resting on both sides of your head.
âN-no! Shut upâ you weakly defended with a feeble, embarrassed once again with how your pussy muscles involuntarily tightened around his shaft to his words, completely making your defense useless as itâs painfully obvious whoâs right and whos trying to deceive themselves.
âHeh, whateverrr you say baby, I believe youuuâ he grinned as his strawberry-pink tip jammed against your cervix, causing your back to arch off the creaking bed. His eyes lit up with amusement at your reaction, finding you sooo incredibly sexy in this vulnerable moment. To him, you look so cute like this. He loves making his shy little girlfriend get even more flustered while his tip is giving sweet, caring kisses to your cervix.
âNeed you to make a bigger mess fâme, think you could do that?â He questions, a coy grin curling on his lips. Not that he cared what you thought because he's planning on making sure the bedsheets are soaked with your filthy squirt by the next five minutes max. The sheer desire coursing through him causing his fat cock to twitch inside your soaked core as he imagines the lewd scene. He willfully collapsed onto your body, pressing you down with force with his larger, muscular body, crushing you under him as his cock impaled your trembling pussy, slamming into you with primal urgency. his hips a blur as he pounded into your warm flesh brutally. The intense grip of your pulsating pussy around his length made him bite his lips in a mixture of pleasure and restraint.
The nasty sound of his invasive cock stuffing your wet pussy filled the room, making you even more embarrassed because of how loud and dirty it sounded.
âGod, you hear how sheâs talking to me? So filthy I bet thatâs her way of telling me how much she fucking lovesss my cock, yeah?â He panted, his breath hot against your neck. âSooo fucking tight, Cum so I can lick it out your pussy. Come onnn, be a good girl n listen tâmeâ he places a kiss on your sweaty forehead before burying his head into the crook of your warm neck, your comforting scent filling his nostrils. Thatâs the part where he starts going crazy.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#yuuji itadori#jjk yuuji#jujutsu kaisen yuuji#yuuji smut#yuji x female reader#itadori yuuji#yuuji x reader#jjk yuji#yuji imagine#yuji smut#yuji itadori#yuji x reader#itadori x you#jjk itadori#itadori smut#itadori x reader#jjk x female reader#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen yuuta#yuuta okkotsu#yuuta x reader#yuuta smut#okkotsu yuuta#jjk megumi#megumi jjk#Megumi smut
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Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurtingâŚyou donât have to if you donât want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!
Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that Iâm a weenie lol so I canât help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Alsoâ gonna make this like a college type AU
Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. Thereâs a cup of beer in your hand that youâve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.
Heâs seen you in his classes before. Youâre good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.
He nudges Gazâ they have the routine down to a scienceâ splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an âI owe yeâ his wayâ chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. Youâre alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.
He corners you expertly, and youâre a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying heâs always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in classâ he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That heâs going to fuck you because he likes you.
Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his roomââYe didnae ken? This is my fraternityâs house, bonnie,ââ as he pulls you along by the hand.
He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheusâs liver. Heâs not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesnât give you kisses the way youâd probably hoped he would. Heâll tell his mates laterâ it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.
He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and heâs not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.
Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.
Come your next class, heâs back to acting like he doesnât know you. Youâre shy, but youâre not stupid. Itâs easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.
So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?
Promethean indeed.
And it keeps happening.
Itâs not like he treats you badlyâ thatâs what you tell yourself. Youâre just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. Itâs nice to feel wanted. Itâs not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but youâre willing to ignore that. You shouldnât be. But you are.
Youâre not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? Thatâs more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?
If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if heâll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesnât do anything about it. Heâs content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.
You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if itâll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.
The door across from Johnnyâs is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. Youâve never met Simon. Well, you really havenât met anyone in Soapâs life. Thatâs not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys donât get introduced to the friend group. Doesnât stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think youâre easy. Must wonder if Johnnyâll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks youâre pathetic. You certainly do.
But itâs happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meatâ chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you wonât even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.
âWhat the fuck are you looking at?â You spit in a tone that surprises you. Youâve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.
âLemme take yâout somewhere.â
What?
What?
#writing#cod fanfic#cod#soap x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#johnny mactavish#john soap mctavish x you#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#college au#Promethean
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I actually have to disagree with your conclusions.
Have you ever fought against flexible weapons?
Back when I was doing HEMA, I sparred against training versions of a 2 handed flail, and let me tell you, they are genuinely a right bastard of a weapon, chiefly in the fact that you cannot defend against them normally:
if you intercept a strike via the head it may flip around and you get clonked by the pole and/or the head, not uncommonly in the face.
If you intercept the pole, the head may swing around your guard and slap you in the head
Additionally ârock on a ropeâ is a historical and historically effective weapon. I personally know it from a specific german husband vs wife trial by combat (itâs a whole thing that shows up in the combat manuals, donât ask) but it pops up elsewhere (usually earlier on in history iirc) and making said rock sharp metal is hardly going to make it less effective
So let me address your points, such as they are:
Firstly, all âwunderwaffeâ in the original context of the word were ineffective money-sinks that harmed the nazi war effort, helping the allies close out the war faster. So itâs kind of odd to mock a historical (if unusual) weapon that did see actual use (the chinese ones were mostly a performance art, but 10 minutes on Wikipedia and you can find several weapons of the type (or at least, that were used specifically because of features you mocked) that were used in warfare) in the same vein as what I can only describe as the most famous set of failures in military science.
The next thing of note is that itâs entirely idiotic to claim a weapon could only ever be effective against a target simulator. Your various criticisms sound like someone whose just been told about plumbata and goes on a rant about how superior throwing axes are by comparison - youâre kind of just ignoring any benefits, somehow completely missing the actual downsides, and concluding that someone who just absolutely nailed 3 targets in a row couldnât do that to your face because youâd totally move out the way.
So let me cover some actual ground here
the main benefit of âthrowing weapon on a stringâ is that you can retrieve it after you throw it and throw it again - will it be worse on an individual throw? Maybe, but you can throw it again
For the major offensive benefit as a melee weapon, I refer you to my earlier commentary on how fucking annoying it is to try and defend against flexible weapons. I imagine the exact physics works out differently for a weight on a rope than what is fundamentally a long stick attached to a shorter stick, but either way this can absolutely can wrap around your defence in unpredictable/unintuitive ways
You really need to account for the continuous force going into the rope from the wielder. Itâs not a limp noodle when itâs being put under tension the whole time, and it wonât behave like a whip from indiana jones
Ok so I think that broadly covers the odd set of criticisms you had, so what about the actual disadvantages of the weapon? Why didnât it see more widespread use?
Formations and collateral. The bow supplanted the sling because you could put more soldiers in the same area if you used bows. Skirmishers are a little different (and afaik did retain slingers for longer) but main formations wanted to be as dense as possible for most of the history of warfare. And uh. yeah. look it doesnât take a genius to see how much space you need to use a rope dart to its maximum potential
Skill requirements. Thereâs a reason it was a performance art, that shitâs impressive - and takes a long time to learn. Much like dual wielding in the sense of two similar sized swords, even though there genuinely are advantages in some situations, learning to do it to a baseline level of competence (i.e without hitting yourself) is dramatically more difficult with flexible weapons than with literally anything else. And so you will only very rarely see this as an army level weapon for the same reason crossbows supplanted regular archery - it just costs more to train the soldiers (english/welsh archery is a notable exception to this rule achieved by a country-wide law prohibiting other sports on sundays, which is kind of insane behaviour but it did work).
Armour. This oneâs more of a hunch, but I suspect this is one of the weapon types (like cut-centric swords, clubs, and really any number of weapons) that are disproportionately countered by armour. I think some actual testing would need to be done to confirm, and I cannot stress enough that for most of history that level of armour was not a factor
So yeah. Sure, not a common weapon, and not one commonly used in warfare (at least in china) but until you have actually done some sparring with someone with baseline competence in rope darts, please donât show your ass by claiming they must be totally useless
Oh, and before I forget - nunchucks were a way around weapon prohibition laws. Itâs wrong to compare them to weapons of war, you have to compare them to other concealable civilian weapons like knuckledusters. You have to tune out modern ninja mythos if you want to have useful opinions on weapons involved in it
Demonstrating the rope dart (皊ć¨; sheng2biao1)
[eng by me]
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A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 1)
@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress
You are a profiler for the FBI when you get called to help catch a serial killer in Westview. (Killing Eve/Hannibal AU)
Word count: 4200
Warnings: descriptions of violence, fear
The phone rings at 7:30 in the morning on your day off and you want to throw it against the wall.Â
You had been sleeping â having a very good dream, actually â when the harsh ringtone roughly jolts you out of your slumber.Â
âHello?â you answer groggily, rubbing your face with your hand. If itâs a spam call, you think you might lose your mind.Â
âIs this Agent Y/L/N?â A gruff voice asks and you shoot up out of bed into the sitting position.Â
You clear your throat and try to sound professional. âUm, yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?â
âThis is Director Hayward,â the man says, and your eyes widen. The head of the FBI is calling you. âHave you heard of the town of Westview?âÂ
Your forehead wrinkles while you rack your brain for anything that sounds familiar. âNo, sir, I donât think so.âÂ
Thereâs muffled sounds from the other side of the phone and then you can hear Director Hayward clearly. âItâs a small town in New Jersey. Nothing special, nothing too out of the ordinary.â He pauses like youâre supposed to recognize it, but after a moment of silence he sighs and continues. âAbout seven months ago, we believe a pair of serial killers moved into town. Bodies started piling up, seemingly no rhyme or reason to who was killed, only that the victims were all female.âÂ
âOkay,â you say slowly, trying to wrap your head around all this. If itâs been going on for this long, why havenât you heard about it? âAre we sure theyâre connected if thereâs no pattern of victim? Usually men have a type when they do this kind of thing; the women usually look like an ex-lover who broke their heart, or their mom.âÂ
You can practically hear him roll his eyes through the phone. âThey were all killed the same way: poison to sedate them and then their hearts were carved out. And there was a purple azalea left in every single one of the victimsâ chest cavities. So weâre pretty sure theyâre connected.â Sarcasm drips copiously from his tone and you wince. Way to make a good first impression on the director of the FBI. âAnd itâs not a man. Itâs a woman.âÂ
This makes you perk up with interest. âOh?â As a profiler for a branch of the FBI in Miami, youâve handled your fair share of serial killers. It may make you sound insensitive, but you were only really interested in the female ones. Men were so boring and predictable. Women knew how to make it a challenge, and there was always some deep, underlying motive for why they did it. There was nothing you enjoyed more than piecing together that puzzle.Â
âTheyâre calling her The Witch. The poison used on the victims is like nothing weâve ever seen before, so we think she must be making it herself. But since female serial killers are kind of your thingââÂ
You cut him off before you can think twice, thoughts whirling through your head. âHow do you know itâs a woman? Cutting out a heart, that takes a lot of strength. Most female serial killers tend to use gentler methods, like poison, so it makes sense that thereâs at least one woman involved. Are you sure she isnât working with someone though? Lavinia Fisher would poison her victims and then her husband would finish the job.âÂ
âHow quickly can you get to Westview?â He asks, completely ignoring your question.Â
âOh, you want me to go there?âÂ
He scoffs. âYes, Agent, we want you to go there. Iâve already informed your boss and heâs given his approval. No one has been better at catching the female killers than you, so we really need you on this. You can take the Miami jet as soon as youâre ready, but they want you there as soon as possible.âÂ
âWill I be working with the Trenton branch?âÂ
âJust the Westview PD for now. Theyâve assured us that they have their best detectives on the case. But if you need backup, let us know and we can send in some more profilers. Whatever it takes to bring this woman to justice.â He hangs up without another word and you grab your to-go suitcase that you keep packed for times like these. You throw in a few extra sets of clothes just in case it takes longer than expected, and then youâre out the door, driving to Headquarters.Â
You walk into your bossâs office and knock on the door. The director of the Miami branch, Tony Stark, looks up at you. âHope you packed some warm clothes,â he says and you chuckle. You definitely did not.
âHayward said I could take the jet?â
Tony nods. âItâs out back and already fueled up. Good luck, kid. Be careful, okay?âÂ
You scoff. âCareful? Iâm always careful.â He fixes you with a stern look and you acquiesce. âI promise.âÂ
âI donât need to remind you what happened last time you worked on a case like this, do I?âÂ
It hits you like a punch to the gut and you shake your head. âNo, sir, you do not.â But you know heâs going to tell you anyway.Â
âThat woman destroyed you,â he hisses. âYou got so focused on finding her that you stopped eating and sleeping. The obsession completely consumed you.âÂ
âI caught her, didnât I?â You mutter, knowing full well that isnât his point. He slams his hands down on his desk and you jump.Â
âShe almost killed you,â he almost yells and your face twists at the memory.Â
The Scarlet Killer terrorized Miami about three years ago before you finally brought her down. At first, she would sneak into houses of families with twins and slit the parentsâ throats and kidnap the kids, but the twins would always resist so she would end up killing them too.Â
After a while, she stopped caring about the twin aspect and started killing anyone with children.Â
You had spent days in the office, pacing and pouring over the evidence board, trying to make sense of it. There was no DNA anywhere, but there was also no sign of forced entry, so you figured that she was invited into the house somehow. The hunt for children made you think she had lost her own, or had some sort of abusive childhood that made her want to protect kids. She was possibly a twin as well, and very amicable if people were having her over willingly.Â
It took two months before you figured out the perimeter of her murders. She was making a hexagon shape with the houses of the victims. Hexagons can represent balance, so you figured she felt as if she was balancing out some score with the universe for something that had happened to her.Â
And then one fateful night, you realized where her next target was. A family had just moved into a house perfectly on the border of the hex, as people around the office started calling it, and they had twins.Â
You spent almost an entire week camped out in front of their house waiting for the Scarlet Killer to strike. You think during that time, you slept a total of ten hours. Hallucinations plagued you and you would doze off and then wake up babbling something about catching her. Agents would bring food by your car and beg you to take a break, but you kept your eyes strained on the house, determined that you wouldnât let her get away with it again, determined to prove that you were right about where sheâd be.
And you were.Â
Except the knocking that shouldâve been on the front door of the house, the knocking that would inevitably lead to more death, was on your car window.Â
You had jolted awake to find a redheaded woman standing there, looking worried. You opened the door and got out to help her when she had pulled a knife out and stabbed you in the stomach.Â
Thank god she didnât go for her usual M.O. of slitting throats.Â
You were able to weakly unholster your gun and take a shot at her as she was running away and by the yelp, you knew you had hit her. A consolation prize as your vision faded to black.Â
Somehow, you woke up two days later in a hospital room, Director Tony Stark by your bedside. They had caught the killer a block away thanks to the appendix your bullet had ruptured that rendered her unconscious, a woman named Wanda Maximoff, who had lost her twins in a horrible house fire, and made it a mission to try and replace them.
And her knife had missed anything important, and all you had was a nasty scar and the weariness from everyone else whenever there was a new female serial killer to catch.Â
âShe didnât kill me though,â you tell Tony, who rolls his eyes. âIâll be careful. I wonât get too involved this time.â
He slides open a drawer and takes out a file and a business card that he holds out to you. You reach across the desk to grab the two and you scan the card.Â
Rio Vidal, Therapist, Westview. With an email and phone number.Â
You hold it up and raise an eyebrow. âYou want me to see a shrink?â You already completed your mandated fifteen hours of therapy after the Maximoff incident and you werenât eager to go back.Â
âYou donât have to, itâs just so you have an option. In case you feel yourself becoming too âinvolved.ââÂ
You purse your lips but you slip it into your pocket and tighten your grip on the file. âGuess Iâll see you whenever we catch her.âÂ
He salutes you and you make your way to the jet out back.Â
Itâs a three hour flight and you spend your entire time pouring over the case file. You know thereâs still some information that youâll have to get from the Westview PD, like witness statements and exclusive photos that havenât been released yet, but what you do have is brutal.Â
Photos of shriveled up bodies with barely any skin still on their bones, their cheeks hollowed out, like something sucked the life out of them. Not to be sexist, but you can tell why Director Hayward thought it was a woman.Â
Although thereâs a gaping hole in their chests where a heart used to be, the cuts are neat, precise. And the blood has been completely cleaned up. What should be the bloodiest crime scene youâve ever seen is void of any fluid, like the killer methodically mopped and bleached and cleansed the scene of everything. But this also means that the victims are dead before the heart is cut out, from the poison.Â
The most chilling thing is the singular, perfect flower placed in the cavity of their chest.
You flip through the toxicology reports but canât really make sense of anything. One report says one chemical was the cause of death, another report says another. The levels of chemicals in the bloodstream are also different from victim to victim.Â
It reminds you of Jolly Jane Toppan, who would experiment with different medicines and chemicals to murder patients at hospitals.Â
Is the killer a nurse? A chemist? Youâre able to figure out why sheâs called The Witch, because itâs like sheâs brewing up potions of sorts, but you have no idea why she would bother cutting their hearts out if sheâs killing them with poison.Â
The precision of the blade also means that her hands are steady. Another reason she could be a nurse.Â
You flip through the pictures of all the victims â eleven, so far â and the first victimâs cut is just as accurate as the last victim. This woman is either a natural, or this isnât the first time sheâs killed.Â
Pulling out your computer, you search the database for any serial killer cases that match this same type of crime, male or female. Youâre still not entirely convinced sheâs working alone.Â
But thereâs nothing. No cold cases, no open cases. She has truly shown up out of nowhere.Â
You tap your fingers to the tray table, your mind trying to make sense of the details for the rest of the flight.Â
When the plane lands, youâre ushered into an uber and taken to the motel where youâll be staying. Your rental car is already in the parking lot. Even though Westview is a small town, it means a lot that theyâre giving you all these accommodations.Â
Your room is complete with a kitchenette, a queen sized bed, and a good sized bathroom. You drop the files on the table, throw your suitcase in the bedroom, and grab your work bag before locking the door behind you.Â
The rental car is a small sedan that has a strange smell, but it does the job and you drive through the quaint twisting roads to get to the police station. You park up front, take a deep breath, and walk in.Â
No one stops you or asks what youâre doing here (no wonder this case hasnât been solved yet) so you make your way to the back where you find the Chiefâs office.Â
Heâs a skinny man with a mustache, spots of something that looks like mustard on his shirt, talking to a woman with her back to you. All you can tell is that she has long, dark hair that flows down your back.
âHi, excuse me?â You say, knocking on the glass door. The Chief stops and the woman turns around to face you and youâre momentarily struck by how attractive she is. âIâm Agent Y/N? The, uh, criminal profiler from Miami? The FBI sent me to help with The Witch case.âÂ
âOh, shoot, thatâs right,â the man says, wiping his hands on his jacket before standing up. âChief Phil Jones. This is Detective Agatha Harknessââ He motions to the woman standing there who smiles knowingly, raking her eyes up and down your body. ââ our best. Sheâs been working this case day and night.âÂ
âAny leads so far?â You ask her.Â
âWhy donât I show you what we have so far?â She offers and you nod, following her out of the office and trying not to look at her ass. She takes you into a different room with a bulletin board filled with pictures and string and post-it notes. You squint at it, trying to take everything in, while you hear more people enter the room behind you.Â
âSo, Miami, what do you think?â A man taunts and a few others snicker at him. You ignore him, youâve been used to this your entire career.Â
Youâre still scanning the board when something catches your eye. The witness statements. They donât corroborate with each other. From the six people that have seen something, they all agree that the killer had dark hair. But some say it was long, others say just past her shoulders. Some think she was taller and lean, others say shorter and just a little more filled out. Thereâs a detail from two witnesses that gives you pause though: they say the woman had a mask of sorts on the bottom of her face, almost like a skeleton. The other witnesses make no mention of not being able to see the killerâs entire face.Â
You tap the papers. âWhy donât the statements line up?âÂ
âSurely you know how unreliable eyewitness testimony is,â Agatha drawls, and when you turn around, sheâs watching you carefully.Â
You frown. âI do know, but it seems like thereâs two different people here. So either we have a copycat, which would be unlikely due to there being no change in the level of detailedness from murder to murder, orââ You trail off, chewing on your lip. Youâre waiting for someone, Agatha maybe, to finish the sentence, or to tell you youâre being crazy.Â
âOr?â She prompts like sheâs daring you to go on. Thereâs a look in her eyes, a look you donât quite recognize.Â
You give the men in the room a glance. Will they laugh? âI really think weâre dealing with two killers here. Working together. One poisons the victims, the other cuts out the heart. I thought it was a man and a woman, but it seems like two women. Theyâre obviously very close to each other, and theyâve got it down to an easy routine.âÂ
âWhy hasnât anyone seen two women then?â Agatha asks, but you feel like sheâs just guiding you to a realization, rather than criticizing your theory.Â
You hum, tossing the question around in your head. âMaybeâŚmaybe because they want us to think thereâs only one killer? Theyâve fooled everyone, even the FBI. Easy to chalk it up to faulty witness statements.âÂ
âWhy wouldnât they try to look alike then?â Agatha presses, and your brow furrows. Itâs a good point.Â
The pictures of the mutilated victims on the board stare back at you while you look for anything you couldâve missed. âAre they toying with us? Do they want us confused? The poison, the cut-out heart, the flower left behind, the different descriptions, itâs like this is a game to them. Theyâre cocky, they feel confident that they canât get caught. Maybe both of them are narcissists, but definitely are on the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum.âÂ
âWhy do you think they do it?â Agatha says in a hushed voice. You canât help but notice that she seems excited.Â
Is that because she finally might be getting a break in her case?Â
âI donât know,â you admit and she looks disappointed. You spin to face the board again. âThereâs no obvious connection or pattern between the victims, so it doesnât seem like thereâs a personal vendetta against them. Nothing stands out about the locations either. It seems like theyâre just killing for fun, right now.âÂ
âThatâs pretty dangerous,â she says, and you can feel the front of her body brush against your back. Youâve been so entranced that you didnât even hear her notice her coming over. âThat means anyone could be next.âÂ
Goosebumps spread over your body at her hot breath on your neck, but her words sober you up. Sheâs right. Youâre not able to rule out potential victims based on how many kids they have or donât have, like with Wanda, or what they look like or donât look like.Â
âOkay,â you say, nodding your head. âWe need to send out a BOLO for two women with dark hair now. Put these descriptions out, tell them to keep an eye out for a skeleton mask? Hopefully we can get some tips and put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt.âÂ
âWhat should we call the other woman?â One of the male officers speaks up and youâre surprised that itâs an actual question.Â
Agatha watches you with interest while you think about it. âHow aboutâŚLady Death?â You offer and she gives a nod of approval. âPut a BOLO out for Lady Death and The Witch.âÂ
You make copies of everything thatâs on the board and paper clip them together to put in your bag. As youâre packing everything up to go back and leave to the motel (Tony would be proud of you for leaving the station at an acceptable time), Agatha comes over and leans on the table.Â
âWhat do you think their relationship is? Lady Death and The Witch,â she says, amusement lacing her tone when she says their nicknames.Â
You shrug. âSisters, friends, wives? Maybe theyâre just two crazy people who met each other and want to kill people.â She chuckles and studies you curiously.Â
âYou know, weâve had some other profilers come in, but none of them have been like you. You know your stuff.âÂ
âFemale serial killers are kind of my thing,â you say. âThereâs just something about untangling the mystery thatâs so much sweeter. Makes me feelâŚalive. Which I know sounds bad, because so many people have died, and Iâm sorry.âÂ
Agatha looks like she knows exactly what youâre talking about. âNo, donât apologize. Itâs exciting, isnât it? The exhilaration, the moment when you finally get what you want, what youâve been working toward.â Her voice is low and you nod, leaning in before you can realize what youâre doing. Your gaze drops down to her smirk and then back to her blown-out pupils. âDo you think youâll be able to find them?âÂ
âYeah, I do,â you breathe, and she looks positively delighted. Out of nowhere, the scar on your stomach stings and you grimace. Agatha looks at you, concerned but you brush it off. âI guess Iâll see you tomorrow then?â You ask, standing up and slinging your bag onto your shoulder.Â
âSee you then, superstar,â she says with a grin and watches you leave.Â
When you get back to the motel, you spread all the pictures and notes out, trying to connect some dots. You scribble down Friends? Sisters? Lovers? on a sticky note and press it to the wall.Â
Why do you think they do it? Agathaâs question still haunts you. You donât want to believe that itâs just for fun, there has to be some meaning, some motive for poisoning and then physically removing hearts. There has to be some significance to the flower left behind.Â
But what is it?Â
Your stomach grumbles so you decide to take a step back and go pick up food from a restaurant in town. As youâre pulling out of the parking lot to come back to the motel with wings and french fries, you get a call from Tony Stark. You accept it, taking a sip from your cup quickly.Â
âHey, Director,â you say.Â
âThere she is! Howâs it going?âÂ
You shrug even though he canât see you. âNot too bad. Just went and got dinner. See, Iâm taking care of myself.âÂ
He laughs like itâs the funniest joke heâs heard. âGlad to hear it. Any new leads in the case?âÂ
âThereâs two women, not one. Theyâre working together.â Thereâs silence on his end of the line for a second and you wonder if he heard you. âDid youâ?
âYeah, I got that. Shit, so you think youâre looking for partners? I donât like this,â he says.Â
âIâm okay, I promise. What happened with Wanda wonât happen this time,â you reassure him as you turn back into the motel lot. âIâll check in with you whenever you want. Iâll go see that shrink. Iâll be careful.â Youâre worried that heâll pull you off the case if he thinks youâre too obsessed. Your hyperfixation tendencies almost cost you your life, and you know Tony doesnât want that to happen to you again. Heâs become somewhat of a father figure to you since you started working there, and itâs touching how much he cares.
He hums in satisfaction. âI expect you to eat three meals a day and get at least five hours of sleep.â Before you can protest, he continues. âAnd I want you to make an appointment with that therapist. Just get ahead of your spiral, maybe talking about the case with someone removed will help you be more level-headed.âÂ
âI will,â you vow. âOkay, just got back to the motel, Iâll talk to you later.â He says goodbye and hangs up. When you get out of the car with your food, the hair on the back of your neck stands up and your scar tingles.Â
Something feels off.Â
You get to your door to find it slightly ajar and you frown. You remember locking it. Maybe room service cleans at night?Â
âHello?â You call, pushing it open. Taking a few cautious steps into the room, you scan from wall to wall looking for anything or anyone.
Thereâs no one there, nothing seems out of place except for your suitcase that is now on your bed. You tentatively walk over to it and unzip it, jumping back like youâre expecting something to pop out. Inside, you find all the clothes you packed gone, and entirely replaced by a new wardrobe. Pulling them out, you gasp when you find cashmere sweaters and silky blouses and comfortable but professional looking pants. Thereâs a bottle of perfume with the word âThanatosâ printed in perfect calligraphy and you take a whiff. It smells like flowers and wood at the same time and it makes you think of a forest.Â
So someone broke into your motel room just to give you some new clothes and perfume? You rustle through the rest of the suitcase and a piece of paper flutters to the floor.Â
Heart pounding, you lean down to pick it up. Itâs the same sticky note that you put on your wall before you left to get food.Â
Friends? Sisters? Lovers?Â
Only now, the word âloversâ is circled, with a small heart drawn. You drop the paper like youâve been burned and run over to where all your case information is and you feel nauseous.Â
Nothing has been touched. Nothing is out of place.Â
Except for the single purple azalea resting on the middle of the table.Â
They were here.Â
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x you#agatha all along#agatha x rio#agathario x reader#agathario#rio vidal x reader#rio x reader#rio vidal x agatha harkness
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⧠ۍ ââ Make it to the morning!
âPairing: Chris Sturniolo x fem! Reader
âSummary: Chris & his girl waking up together in the morning.
âType: drabble
âwarnings: just fluff :)
âWC: 555
ârequested by: @purpledragon222
(this is my first fic send any suggestions:))
The sensation of someone's heartbeat against you brings a feeling of warmth, calm, and comfort.
The knowing assurance of someone beside you and there when you need it.
Whenever you find yourself at your boyfriend's house, you canât help but wake up with a smile. The cozy familiarity of his warm room, filled with the faint scent of his cologne, wraps around you like a comforting blanket. The soft morning light filters through his curtains, casting a gentle glow that makes everything feel serene.
As you slowly open your eyes, the sight of him peacefully sleeping under you brings a smile to your face. the thought of those precious moments of falling asleep together and getting to wake up right by the love of your life fills your heart with joy. Itâs a feeling you eagerly anticipate every time you visit him and his brothers, knowing that being in his presence always brings warmth and happiness to your mornings.
You lay there admiring his sleeping face and beauty, taking in what's all yours.
You slowly start to trace shapes along his chest and stomach, placing soft kisses from the top of his chest slowly to his cheek.
You gently lean in closer, your lips brushing softly against his skin in delicate pecks. Each kiss is tender and unhurried, a soothing rhythm meant to rouse him from slumber. You take care to express your affection with every touch, honoring the peaceful moment between you and cherishing the intimacy of waking him with love.
As the touches begin to increase, he begins to awaken, roused gently by the delicate kisses that brush against his skin.
âMmm, good morning, baby,â he says, wrapping his hands around your body he dears so much.
You press one more kiss, rougher than before, to his cheek and smile up at him. âGood morning Chris,â you say dragging out the words.
âYou are sure lovey this morning,â he smiles down at you from above.
âI just want to cuddle up to you and cherish this before I have to leave for work.â Nestling your head against his chest, you felt the warmth radiating from him as you muttered your words softly, the sound muffled against his bare chest. Annoyance laced your tone.
Yet the moment felt intimate, wrapped in a blend of annoyance and comfort. Your breaths mingled with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, creating a cocoon of familiarity, even as the irritation simmered beneath the surface.
The frustration makes him cackle, causing the vibrations of his laugh to tickle you, throwing you both into fits of laughter.
Just the presence of being with each other brings a mix of love and laughter within you to. Many mornings like this are meant to come.
The morning of kisses being shared, and laughs echoing the room with the man you love, even though its interrupted by Matt and Nick jumping in the bed with you two.
âDo you guys always have to ruin the moment between me and my girlfriend.â Chris groans rolling over to where he's on top of you nestling his head into the crook of your neck and hair.
once again, a course of laughing through the room by the 4 of you.
Laughter and love is what makes it to the morning.
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#matt stuniolo fanfic#fluff#nate doe#nathan doe#nate doe x reader#nate doe x you#nathan doe x reader#nathan doe x you
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a/n: i wrote this two eddies and like 6 hits off the cart in. AND while vibin to my toxic bbg sza. what a life
for all my hotties who just finished hell finals week. good job to us bro đ. to those who failed (me) itâs all good bcz we gonna be back on our zoom next semester <3
plug!abby helping nerd!overachiever!reader destress after a long, tortuous semester.Â
âyou have no idea how proud of you i am-.â
to put it bluntly, this semester sucked complete and utter ass. you didnât know what it was specifically; maybe it was the nasty professor you had for english who was just determined to fail you at every turn. hmm, or perhaps it was the fact that the workload was heavy enough to break an elephant's back. or it could be due to the fact that you had to carry every fucking group project on your back because everyone who got partnered with were completely useless. whatever the cause, you felt it seep out of you, like someone just opened a lid on your brain and let in some air.
abby, aka the very type of person your parents beg you to never bring home, aka the most well-known (and well-sought after) plug on campus, aka your girlfriend had you laid out on her lap. she never could understand why you try so hard. she knew you were naturally intelligent, and you honestly didnât need to do half of the intense studying you did. she would always try and seduce you away from your work, pleading for you to pay attention to her for only a few minutes (it never took her long to make you cum). sometimes it would work, but most of the time it didnât, with you too immersed in your assignments to even think about relieving anyâŚtension.
so naturally, the moment you walk into your dorm from class at the end of the semester, she had you trained. sheâd spent a whole hour smoking you out, getting you nice and hazy and slow as she played with your nipples. she had you completely under her command, the fact that you didnât smoke often (i could never but for the sake of the plotđ¤ˇđżââď¸) only adding to your state.Â
and as soon as she got bored of teasing you, she was pushing your soaked panties to the side and shoving two of her fingers into you. no prep, no warning, just fullness as abby did what she did best. owned you.
â-but told you not to take so many credits baby, had your head all full of yucky stuff that my girl doesnât need.â her fingers had been torturing you, curling into your g-spot countless times as the sore spot began to bruise. she was always known for being good with her hands, she but never failed to remind you every chance she got. the thickness of her middle and ring finger made you drool (from both pairs of lips) and you could do nothing but cry. like always. she didnât mind tho, she loved her little crybaby.
"you're lucky i love you so much. i always know how to help my smart girl out."
anddddd that's all i got folks. stream lana for clear skin and wet pussy đŤśđż
#arcane league of legends#vi smut#abby anderson smut#abby smut#tlou x reader#abby anderson#sevika smut#the last of us#the last of us smut#abby anderson x black reader#arcane smut#ellie williams#ellie willams x reader#ellie smut
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AHHHH help i need someone to pick me off the floor and bring a mop over
hi it's me again sorry for existing in the same timeline as you
anyway sooooooo many wonderful perfect amazing show-stopping things about the finale
uh first of all, kudos for the perfect break between pt 1 and pt 2 - it's incredibly seamless, and it ties all the loose strings together, and really, the thing that stuck out to me about this whole story is simply how Cohesive it is. super hard to execute that as a writer, so really, really impressed by that.
onto more specifics.
first, i so appreciate the portrayal of reader as being very sexually active, and in my mind, hypersexual. i mentioned previously about how we don't really know the full story with suo, and that applies to reader as well. we don't really how reader grew up, what her likes/dislikes are (besides sex and bad sex, respectively), what family life was like before getting kicked out, etc. not sure what you had in mind, but there's a sense i have where i truly, truly believe reader is not actually a very reliable narrator!!! i think there's some avoidance!!! some dense and forgetful behavior that is meant to elucidate and confuse us as readers!!! and funnily enough, suo helps us gain clarity.
anyway, i think hypersexuality rep is important, in general. a big part of it isn't just feeling horny 24/7. there's some very real problems with low esteem/self-respect, feelings of disgust, internalized misogyny + objectification, and more. i think this fic also treads this balance very carefully, in that it recognizes that sex work is really just a means to get by, in the most neutral sense possible. it's not always glamorous, it's not always violent. as someone who's done a ton of research and activism in sex work, especially at the intersection of sex work + immigration, i really appreciated this rep.
in terms of reader and suo's relationship, this is really where i wanna dive into it. it's very clear i love them and i love them together, but it's not just their alikeness that makes them work. it's their shared history, their leniency + strict expectations for each other, and so much more.
the specific word choices and phrases really drive this through â "being gutted by suo" "mortified" "pavlovian response" and so many more
their banter is really the cherry on top as well.
also wanna emphasize this more - despite how romantic they are with each other (in their minds), they're also so sharp and judgmental â and i mean judgmental. lowkey kinda like asian parenting LOL like reader wants the best for suo, but now that suo's become a yakuza, that's a grudge she's keeping for the rest of her life. similarly, suo wants reader to stop fucking around and actually practice more self-control, but because she doesn't listen, he's gotta take matters into his own hands and edge the living shit out of her. sexual innuendos aside, literally asian love. like fine we'll deal with it if you don't listen but just know we're holding it over your head for the rest of your goddamn life LMFAO ik it's kinda toxic to other folks who may not have grown up in such an environment - and i'm not really gonna have an opinion on whether it's valid/justifiable or not -, but as someone who grew up with tiger parents + somehow managed to be somewhat emotionally close to them, this type of love is really smth i treasure a lot.
and i think that's the whole point of the fic, for me at least. reader and suo want to take care of each other. they want to cherish the time they have together. but at the same time, it's realistically impossible not to hurt your loved ones. i think it's so easy to say certain things are dealbreakers and to just walk away, but even irl, sometimes it's also just... hard to walk away. idk maybe i have a really convoluted sense of love and romanticism, but i am 100000% convinced love is difficult and honestly not really worth the payoff sometimes, yet reader and suo kinda don't even care if the payoff's worth it. like we'll hurt, we'll love, and we'll just see how it goes bc we just care that fucking much about each other. i wonder if they'd still choose to be tgt even if they knew they were making each other incredibly unhappy... bc they're each other's person ykwim.... anyway, some more food for thought for me... heheh
also,,, sex scene had me quaking,,, i totally read the tags and saw p*ssy inspection and wasn't shocked,,, totally was prepared,,, haha,,,, ha
anyway, sooo much love and thanks again, op. i may have gone off the rails, and thought or interpreted shit you didn't even think about or agree with. point is, haven't thought so much about a fic in so long, and i really was so enraptured with every word, every cadence, every paragraph. apologies for the brief spam in your inbox, but i really hope, no matter where you go, you keep writing. thank you so so so much, truly, for sharing this with us.
TOKYO VICE | part 2
âDo you remember,â Suo begins, voice light, âhow our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each otherâs feelings?â You tense. âNo,â you blurt out, and Suo laughs. âOf course not,â he plays along. âYou were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. Soââhe reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighsââI wanted to have an honest conversation with you.â (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)
12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!
part 1 here
You're surprised at Suoâs indifference to your sex life.
A month has gone by, and heâs made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come homeâwhich are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your âappointmentsâ. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of courseâif you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)
Ironically, you had initially thought that Suoâs approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suoâs lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.
You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urgesâor at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. Youâve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suoâs name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customerâs name instead.
The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. Itâs just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actorâhostessing demands that of youâso you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.
Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naĂŻvete.
After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisionsâbut he also never fails to redirect them.
One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that youâre only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.
âBut we don't do private sessions here,â you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, âand we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.â
To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Donât tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.
A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.
A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.
Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.
You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regaliaâinfamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.
While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suoâs history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, thereâs nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him offâand you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.
You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.
âWhat are you doing here,â you say, and Suo smiles.
âOh? You're not happy to see me?â
âNo,â you moan. âHow are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?â
âI have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,â Suo says neatly. âAnd I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.â
Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suoâs smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.
You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.
âYou know,â he says, âfor a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.â
âOh, for the love ofââ
You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customerâeven if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.
Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragonâs lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of himâbecause unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.
Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.
You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yetâyour dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made ofâlight, delicateâfeels incredibly good against your thighs too.
If this continues, you might cum on the spot.
âWait,â you say, and Suo raises a brow.
âOh?â
âYou aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.â
He smiles. âI'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.â
â...â
Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, youâre ready to make horrible decisions.
âFine,â you say. âBut you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.â
âOf course,â Suo says. âThough I think sheâd overlook a lot of things for me regardless.â
Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. Itâs a hideous display of wealth.
As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting youâor rather, checking in on youâat work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your masterâs promise to support you if anything ever happened.
With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.
You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right nowâtreating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.
âI did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,â he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girlsâ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000ÂĽ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.
You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. Youâve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasingâbut if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?
This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.
Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.
Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worseâbrings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as youâre forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.
In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his legâthis time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.
You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.
âHm? Is something wrong?â Suoâs hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: âYou're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?â
Heâs giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.
â...no, I'm fine.â
âGood,â he says. âLet me know if youâre uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.â
As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.
Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.
âRemember a month ago,â you say, âhow you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?â
âYes.â His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. âDoes that bother you?â
Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But itâs also making you wetter right now. You try not to cryâfrom misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.
âWell, yeah. Come on, Suoâeven you should know that's really weird of you.â
âI do,â he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. âBut how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safeâif your needs are being met.â His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. âI wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.â
You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suoâyou should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.
âThat's,â you say lamely, ânot very normal of you.â Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakuraâs romance radar: âAlso, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.â
You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.
You can hear Suoâs smile in his reply: âI don't think you're giving him enough credit.â
âHe has the social skills of a feral cat.â
Suo genuinely laughs. âSure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I meanââhis breath sweeps over your earââyou used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all⌠though you've been misbehaving lately.â
His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.
You feel like you're being eaten alive.
Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on youâwhich is to say, making you clench immediately.
You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.
In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.
âStop that.â
Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. âWhy?â
Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, âHostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, weâre paid to be conversational partners.â You frown at him. âYou're breaking a lot of club rules right now.â
This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suoâs grip stays firm on your waist.
He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. âOkay,â he says simply. âThen I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.â
His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.
âAlright,â you acquiesce, âWhat do you have to say, as a friend?â
âI just have one question.â
âSure. Shoot.â
His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.
âI can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.â
You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.
âWh-what?â
Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: âLet me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?â
For some reason, youâve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suoâs expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.
âWhy would you think we would have?â you ask carefully.
âBecause weâve both clearly thought about it. You especially.â
You try to keep a straight face. âNo I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.â You raise a brow. âHow would you even know?â
âBecause,â he says, hand inching up your thigh, âyouâre so wet that I can feel it.â
You're mortified.
Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but nowâsobering up from sheer panicâ you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.
What a horrible man.
When you don't reply, he tilts his head. âDon't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?â
His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.
And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.
But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. Youâve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it startedâonly that you want it to end.
So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.
Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. âLook, youâre so wet,â he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clitâswollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. âPoor thing.â
âItâs only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,â you say through gritted teeth. âIt doesn'tânghâdoesnât mean Iâve been wanting to fuck you.â
You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.
âYouâre not a good liar,â he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, âIf you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.â
âWhat makes it unbelievable?â you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.
âWell,â he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, âafter you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.â
Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. âYouâyou what?â
âIt was for security purposes,â he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. âOnly near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surpriseââyou feel his fingers start to press into your cuntââwhen I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.â
Youâre mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.
Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.
âDon't worry,â he says in a soothing tone, âI know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Thoughââhe shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuckââmaybe not big enough.â
You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.
âWhat the fuck, Suo,â you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. âYou weren'tâahhâmeant to see any of that.â
âSorry,â he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. âIf it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.â
You tense. âWhat feelings?â you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of youâyou breathe sharply at the lossâand manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.
But you do feel like prey.
âDo you remember,â he begins, voice light, âhow our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each otherâs feelings?â
Fuck.
âNo,â you blurt out, and Suo laughs.
âOf course not,â he plays along. âYou were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. Soââhe reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingersââI wanted to have an honest conversation with you.â
He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactionsâyour whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.
âIâve always had feelings for you,â he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate toneâthe specific one that suggests danger, âand I know youâre too smart to have missed that. Iâd be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.â
âI don't,â you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.
A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. âI said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.â
âIâI am being honest, Iââ Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people beforeâbut it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when youâre this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.
âSuo,â you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, âI-Iâm close, Iâm close, oh fuckâ
He stops.
Before you can comprehend what's happening, heâs withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your highânerves frayed, emotions taut.
âSuo,â you say, âwhat the fuck?â
He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. âI'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.â
Youâre going to cry.
You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. Youâve never liked it. But you needâneedâhim to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.
You say, very quietly, âPlease, Suo.â
âPlease, what?â
It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, âPlease touch me.â
âNo. Not until you start being honest with me.â
Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh againâthis time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, âYou can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.â
âYouâre fucking horrible,â you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole nightâyou start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way heâs looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.
âYou really do need to be touched,â he remarks softly. âYou said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?â
âN-no,â you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. âIt wasâit wasâfuck, I never came.â
He hums, satisfied. âThereâsee? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.â
He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. Youâre getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but itâs something. And itâs making it hard to focus on what he's saying.
âItâs fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,â Suo continues. âLet's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?â
You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suoâ
His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustrationâno tears, but the noise you make is broken.
âAnswer my question,â he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. âAnswer me and I'll touch you.â
âOkay,â you say, as desperate as you are distressed. âOkay, I'll do anything. Anything.â
âGood.â He sounds so pleased.
You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sighâeven though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.
You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. Youâre so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.
âWell, then,â he murmurs. âTell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?â He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. âJust to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.â
âItââyour eyelids flutter shutââit would have been too complicated. Y-youâre my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and weâve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weirdââ
Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.
The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shameâeven though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customersâyour cunt starts leaking in response.
You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.
âSuo,â you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.
âTry again,â he says gently, but not kindly. âThe truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?â
You don't answer him. âSuo, pleaseââ And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.
âAnswer me,â he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for himâwanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours againâbut he stills you with his hands.
You feel devastated.
Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, âI was just scared!â
This is the worst mistake you've ever made.
The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.
Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.
You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suoâs grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.
âScared of what?â Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually softânot in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.
His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.
âWhat were you scared of?â he prompts again.
A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, âI was scared thatâthat you'd leave me.â
You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.
You press your face into Suoâs shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.
Your breathing evens out a littleâbut only a little.
âWhy would I leave you?â His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.
âBecause you might not want me anymore.â You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. âYou could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You couldâyou could want to throw me away, for no reason. Orââ You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.
âOr?â
âOr you could dieâyou joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?â An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.
And when your master died.
âI'm still so fucking mad at you for it,â you bite out around your tears. âIf you got fucking killedâoh my god, I can't even think about it. I can'tâI couldn't take it ifâif I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause youâre the only thing I have.â You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. âAndâŚâ
âAnd?â
âAnd,â you say, voice breaking, âI think because I love you?â
You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying heâs becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.
You love him so much it disgusts you.
You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.
âThere,â he says gently. âThat wasn't so bad, was it?â
Heâs wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.
But in Suoâs arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.
âI love you,â he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, âprobably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?â
âYes,â you say quietly.
âAnd we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?â
You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man whoâs effectively locked you up in his house. Stillâyour heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that theyâll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.
âIâll try,â you reply, voice small.
âGood.â He strokes your cheek. âDo you want to keep going?â
Itâs absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.
But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.
Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.
âYeah,â you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.
âYou're sure?â Another stroke. âI want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?â
Your dignity is gone. âI want you to fuck me.â
He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. âGood girl,â he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. âI'll take care of you now.â
He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung outâbut this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.
âSuo,â you start.
âHayato,â he corrects you. âYou're my fiancĂŠe now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.â
Your stomach flips. âHayato,â you try again, breathless. âPlease.â
He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. âPlease, what?â
You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.
âPlease, what?â he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. âPlease let you cum? Please fuck you?â
âPlease kiss me,â you say, in a small voice.
Suo pauses.
âWhat?â
âPlease kiss me,â you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.
It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look thatâs fucking ravenous.
His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. âYou're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?â
You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.
âIâm not,â you reply, âand stop that.â
âBut it's true. And I want you to know it.â
Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but heâs in full control, and heâs taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulderâthe other one quickly followsâbut youâre so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.
You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.
âSuo,â you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.
âHayato,â he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.
âHayato.â
âYes?â
âI need more,â you say quietly.
He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. âBe patient,â he teases you. âIâm getting there.â
He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open againâjust sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.
You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're beggingâand you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.
But no matter how much you beg, he isnât letting you cum.
âLook at the mess you're making,â he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doingâforced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.
âHayato,â you whine.
âJust a little longer,â he promises, âand then I'll let you cum.â
Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suoâs touch. Youâve actually forgotten where you areânot a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.
Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.
You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the serverâshe knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.
âSuo, waitââ
You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this timeâcurling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.
âSuo,â you cry, tears pricking your eyes, âwait, wait, my coworkerâwait, I thinkâI think I'm gonnaââ
âGo ahead,â he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.
You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasureâhips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suoâs lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.
Her tray clatters to the floor.
Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. Sheâs going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customerâs face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.
âDid you come to check on us?â Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. âWeâre fine for now. Weâll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.â
âO-okay,�� she says, voice high and tense. âIâIâll leave you two, then. Pleaseâplease enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.â And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.
Once sheâs gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.
âOops,â he says. âItâs too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.â
You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.
âYouâyou did that on purpose,â you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.
Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. âDid I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.â He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. âBut it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.â
You close your eyes and groan. âYouâre horrible.â
âI am, aren't I?â Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. âBut this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.â He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. âOr maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.â
âS-suo.â
âItâs Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?â
He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stopâyouâre so fucking tiredâand you bleakly realise that you can't control your bodyâs reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.
âHayato,â you whimper, on the verge of tears.
âAh, you addressed me properly. Good.â Heâs so satisfied. âWhat is it?â
âIâŚâ
âYou?â
âIââyour voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe itââI want you to fuck me.â
He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. âReally? But you just came.â A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.
Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.
âYou really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.â He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. âNo wonder you have to use that toy every day.â
You're about to die of embarrassment. âHayato. Please just fuck me.â
Suo turns you so that you can look at him. Heâs wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, âNo.â
â...what?â
âI'm not going to give you my cock.â He hums, contemplative. âNot for a while, I think.â
âB-but,â you say, genuinely upset, âbut you were just talking about doing that at work.â
âSureâafter we get married. It's only proper, donât you think?â
âWhat?â Your eyes are wide in disbelief. âYouâyou just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.â
âYes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before weâre wedded.â He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. âI'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.â
âHayatoââ
âActually,â he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, âI think you shouldnât be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.â
âI'm going to,â you say spitefullyâand tearfully. âIf you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.â
âI don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.â
âHow would you evenânghâknow?â
âGood question.â He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. âI guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone elseâs cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.â
You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sexâbut then again, shaming people is one of Suoâs specialties.
You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.
He gets that hungry look in his eye again. âPlease, Hayato,â you beg, voice trembling with need, âI want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.â You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. âDon't you wanna cum in your wifeâs pussy?â
Suo stops, deeply affectedâjust as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.
He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. âYou've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, butââhe shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzippingââIâm sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.â
Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suoâs lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you canât help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.
His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.
Youâre about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. âIf you try to ride me,â he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, âI'm not touching you until weâre married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.â
â...â
With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.
âOkay.â You sound and feel mollified. âI'll behave.â
He smiles. âGood,â he says cheerfully. âJust stay like that, then. Iâll take care of you.â
You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. Youâre used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.
You find out very quickly that it isn't.
You need to stay still. You canât sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suoâs breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. Youâre aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.
But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside youâbut pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.
Then he starts pushing into you.
âH-Hayato?â You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. âI thought you weren't gonnaââ
âI'm not,â he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, âDonât move.â
Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like thisâwhen you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.
It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, âPlease, Hayato. I need your cum in me.â
It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.
âFuck,â he says, and then he pulls out.
He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck youâbut instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.
You aren't going to complain.
You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.
You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suoâs breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.
He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suoâs been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied youâyou aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.
Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.
When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.
âYou should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,â you sigh.
Suoâs mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. âIâll do it if you're good for me.â
âIâll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,â you promise, voice affectionate.
Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think heâs going to say something sweet.
âAlright,â he replies. âThen be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Letâs not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.â
You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.
âYou're fucking horrible,â you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.
Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suoâs hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.
This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.
To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suoâs conscientious efforts to avoid thisâthough it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan wonât appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.
Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if youâll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suoâs father.
After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.
âI don't know,â you admit. âI guess after you applied to teacherâs college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.â
You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was youngerâbut he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.
But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. Itâs one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.
You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.
He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.
But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.
âNo, I was quite serious about it,â Suo says, looking right at you.
You stare at him.
âReally?â
âReally.â
He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimentalâbut something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.
âWas there anything else you ever wanted to do?â he asks smoothly.
You're startled, off-guard. âOh, um⌠not really. I never let myself think too much about it.â
âCome on,â he prods. âThere must be something.â
âNo, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. AlthoughâŚâ
Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.
âAlthough?â
âIt's too embarrassing,â you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.
âCome on, it's fine.â His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. âI promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.â
You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.
âPardon?â he asks.
â...romantic, vanilla sex.â
Suo blinks. âWhat?â
Your face burns with humiliation.
âI used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.â Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving peopleâs sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.
Suo gives you a surprised look. âThat's⌠a very mundane fantasy.â
âIt wouldn't have been mundane to me,â you reply, somewhat defensively. âI used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didnât really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.â
You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suoâs cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.
But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.
âIt's okay,â he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. âYou'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.â It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.
You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.
You canât understand why youâre weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.
Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.
âSorry,â you say quickly.
âDon't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.â
You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. Itâs not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.
âI don't know about that,â you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, âI'm sorry for always worrying you.â
âI know,â Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, âIâm sorry too.â
âIâll try to be better from now on.â
âYou will be. And even if you arenât, that's fine.â
For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.
You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.
Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faintâpartly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.
He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, âIâm sorry for being how I am now.â
You almost stop breathing. Almost.
âYou didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,â he continues. âI know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.â
He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.
âSakura knows who I really am, you know,â he says quietly. âI think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though heâs been worried about you for a while.â Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, âDid you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.â
Heâs more sombre when he continues, âBut Nirei is just afraid of me. Thatâs why heâs never around. Heâs going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. Heâll probably tell you to leave me too. Itâs good advice.â
It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.
âIâve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,â Suo confesses. âBut I don't think I can get better.â
But even if you can't, you want to tell him, thatâs fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.
âIt doesn't usually upset me nowadays,â he admits after some time, âhow I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.â
He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.
âI'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I canât have an honest conversation with you.â
Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.
âMaybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.â
His voice gets even softer. Tender.
âBut for now, I don't know how to let you go.â
You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. Heâs leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.
Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.
And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.
END 'TOKYO VICE'
hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol
can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!
thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333
tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!
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Happy 1 year anniversary! I'm so happy to have been able to witness this blog continue to grow. Keep up the good work!
As for my order, can I get an affogato please?
Inexperienced!reader seeing Vespasiano at a bar and deciding to shoot his shot only to be a nervous wreck the entire time while trying to flirt with him. Vespasiano finding all this adorable and taking him home and teaching reader how to fuck him properly! (with reader just immediately cumming the second he's able to stick his dick into Vesp) đ
Ëâş. ďš vampire lieutenant dilf  x inexperienced top sub male reader. ďšÂ .đš Ý
. . . there you go. fuck look at you, doing so good !! đ :  vampiricÂ Ë lieutenant Ë dilf characterďš verse 781 vespsiano. ďš
you've always wondered what it would be like inside of him, you didn't think he'd be the one to teach you how to fuck him. | cw: blowjob, handjob, anal, inexperienced male reader, lots of humping <3
đš. ps : thank you so much !! we hope this is to your liking!
âYeah?â
Heat warms your face with the low rumble to your ear. When did his hand get on your thigh? The calloused thumb strokes along your skin spark your head into dizzy episodes. Itâs the alcohol, you convince yourself. But something tells you the golden hue of bourbon isnât what youâre drowning in â but emerald eyes lightly creased at the corners.
âWell I . . .â you hope that the throat clear helps. âYou know y-youâre. . . one to talk - with that - uhm -â seems not.
Vespasiano, thatâs his name. The patron youâd heard all the bartenders giggling about time and time again. He came in, ordered his old fashion or neat whiskey, sat for a bit. Smoked his cigarette, then left. Youâd seen him a few times. Today you summoned all your non-existing confidence to shoot your short.
Itâs going as well as a virgin with a hooker.
Or is it? His chuckle shoots the heat on your face to your crotch. The stir against your pants spins your head further. When did your pants get so tight?
Tight. You wonder how tight he is. But could you even manage fucking him? He didnât look like the switch type â let alone the switch. The thrum of your dick against black fabric begged for such. A chance, just one chance.
Your nerves, however, tell another story. âI uh - j-just . . . forget I - said - a-anything haha -â the choppy laugh interrupts halfway. The floor creaks with skidded wood and the hand on your thigh doubles over to the other. The bar counter welcomes your back. As though to wingman you for the towering shadow he casts over you. That grin on his lips that makes you want to buck against him here and now.
Damn everyone else. If you could have him over this counter here and now. . .
The trail of a finger down your throat sends your thoughts derailed. All you can do is gulp. Flit your eyes up to his amused ones that peer at the bobbing of your Adamâs apple. âDonât chicken out on me now. Donât think your pants down there would appreciateât.â
You neednât glance down. Your tent strains proudly against his inner thigh. The warmth hitches your breath. By some grace, you manage to breathe out a final - âBut - arenât you still drinking?â
Save your poor heart. It wasnât ready for him to lean over with gazes locked and hand steady. Snatch his glass and gulp the bitter liquid down like honey. Eyes on yours the entire time. Shadowed by dark strands drooped over.
Thud to the wood. The feel of his strong arm round your waist is deadly. So is his whisper. Those small fangs that peek through his grin.
âNow âm not.â
â
Heâs not a bottom, not a switch either. And yet here is. On his back, shirt gone, pants discarded. To say you were surprised at his understanding was an understatement.
âThaatâs it. . . keep going,â he groans with his cock finding home in your hand. The perfect sleeve as it pumps slowly, shakily down his length. His face might send you into a spur right now. Blissed out. Youâd splatter immediately. But for the life of you, your gaze refuses to release his dick.
To say heâs big is an insult. Youâre lucky itâs just his ass youâll have today. The veiny flesh and twitches with suds of precum salivates your mouth. It takes every fibre to not dive down and choke on his dick all over again. His shaky groans arenât making it any easier.
âHavenât done this before either.â Heâs so assuring. The large hand strokes along your face and his blissful smile almost has you humping on his leg. Desperate much?
âBeen on receivinâ, I mean - fuck.â
His words had some magic because your hand acted on fuel. Pumping along steadily to the thrum of his pulses. The rolls of his hips.
Next you catch his wet hole. Your throbbing borders painful as much as pleasurable. To sate the desire you swoop down and kiss around his thick tip. Shudder into his slit and stroke beneath his cockhead. His taste perfectly compliments the bitterness of alcohol. Youâd get drunk on him any day.
But a hand to your hair snaps you from your swirl of need. With a gruff - âyou gonna keep suckinâ me dry or?â oh, thereâs that devilish chuckle again. Your insides flare in competition with your face that he grinds up into shamelessly. âOr are you gonna fuck me, pretty boy? âm waiting.â
Your kisses rain down on his muscular highs like apologies crossed with whines. âNervous. . . I wanna make you feel good.â There you go humping mindlessly into the mattress again. Imagine his hips instead of the scratch of linen.
A warm, tender hand to the back of your neck leads you home to his lips. They overtake yours in a fire, a passion. One that surely is meant to pull more of your pathetic noises out. So you attempt to win back your pride by shoving your hands to his shoulders and forcing him back down.
âThatâs it.â If you thought his groan made you dizzy then the squeeze of his hand around your dick as he reached forward crumbled you entirely. Like hot candle wax, you fall onto him with a melt and buck into his thigh.
The slick of previous lube steals your breath. So you return the favour with lathered kisses into his mouth. An exchange of tongue and teeth. All while he guides you steadily.
Excitement shoots through you at the feel of his rim. Straight from your tip and through your dick. Your hands brace on his sides and his squeeze at your hips. The kiss parts again. Strings of saliva the last evidence. Your hips buck. Your gut pleads for you to just push in. But a quick reminder of his own inexperience in this field steers your muscles to a halt.
Inexperienced? Youâd never consider him such.
Not with the way he touches you. Certainly not with his words laced with teasing lilts Heâd be the death of you. And you would so readily let him bury you. Just how you wish to bury within those warm walls.
âNow. . . easy does it.â He mumbles against kisses to your neck. Small assurances that swell and squeeze your heart. Your body moves on automation. Muscles robotically dancing to his rhythm as your tip glides along his hole. Youâre so busy bothering your lower lip with your teeth that you fail to notice him doing the same. âJust. . . there. . . there - hah -â
Surely, this is a trap. The tightness of his heat encasing your cock inch - by agonising inch - is a sabotage in every degree of the word. One for your heart that leaps straight into your throat. You bob it down with gulps of saliva and swallowed gasps. Itâd be too humiliating to -
âLet it out. . .â
âF-Fuck . . .â
Itâs such a pathetic noise really. In comparison to his deep, rumbled groans and grunts â you feel like a whimpering kitten. How can you be anything but when heâs thrumming around your cock like that? When his heat makes you so dizzy that you have to droop your head to his scarred chest and press kisses all over his skin?
Thereâs no stopping your hips as they chase pleasure. Bucks meet his thighs and your hands flex around his sides. Searching for a leverage, a comfort, to cling to while he consumes your body whole. For a moment - you forget that you are the one inside of him.
âS-So good -â
âYeah?â
The ragged breath finally steals your attention. The sight of him beneath you is enough to snap several chords in your tummy. With emerald eyes peered through fluttery half-lids. His brows itch to crease at the centre. Thereâs no missing the subtle flex of his fingers in the dark sheets. And that light blush scattered across his face? Heâs the sight of heaven, splayed out on a bed of all things for crying out loud.
Every fibre in your body begs for you not to be a hero. His heat is not something you can manage. Stubbornly, still, you persist and press in further. Feel the tightness in your gut. The swell in your chest.
It happened so fast. White blinds your vision and takes over your movements. Youâre needily bucking into his lube-slathered heat with tiny, pitiful humps. Lips parted, eyes fluttered. The shudder that tears through your body shoves you down onto him again and you moan out against his collarbone.
Heat fizzles into realisation. But before you can so much as apologise, that tender feeling finds the small of your back once more. You feel his smile against your temple; and his hips rolling into yours as though you didnât just bust already.
âThat good huh?â The snicker makes you flush. For the life of you, you cannot bother with embarrassment or pleasantries. All you can do is stutter your cock forward in shallow, aimless thrusst.
âA-Ah - ah - m-m sorry. . . mngh. . . just mngh - sâgood.â
âKeep going. Steady. Make a - a - ah - a rhythm.â
Large palms flatten on your thighs. Then squeeze. Vespasiano steers your hips forward until you catch the hang of it. His lips motivate you with showers all over your neck and shoulders. You return it tenfold with bites and marks littered across his throat and chest.
Pleasure swells through your head. Strikes down your spine. The air leaves you in bouts you can barely keep up with. Not that you care. Not that it matters. Who needs air when pleasure flies you to cloud nine?
âD-Does - does it feel - feel good?â Your eyes search his scrunched up face for an answer. Your impatience drops a hand to his cock, and you messily stroke along the trails of wetness leaked from his pulsating tip. An action he clearly was not anticipating with the way his back arched and moans tumbled forth.
Not groans. Not grunts. Moans. You really are in heaven. To have a man of his experience, his age, his occupation and stature. Moan for you.
Your thrusts catch wind of the small ego boost. Fueled with pride you angle, like heâs taught you, and buck ferally into different spots. Searching for that one - just that one -
âA-Ah fuck-!â
There.
âAnswer me. . . Please,â the whine borders all sorts of needy and pathetic. Your lips are wet on his throat as you suckle down on his adamâs apple and press your skin together. Consume his heat for your own. âT-Tell me you feel good. That Iâm - making - hngh.â
âFeels - good.â he groans. You donât expect the hand that claps down on your thigh. Only the grin that he shoots up at you.
âBut go faster. Yeah - ngh - th-thasâ ittt. . .â
What more can you do but drive yourself to madness with your messy thrusts? Youâll keep humping away at his tight hole. Shower him in kisses, bites, gropes - what have you. Sure you might cum more times as you. But as long as you both get your fill â who cares about inexperience?
Just gives him more time to teach more. More time for you to fuck him.
#ďš cupcake rush. ďš: vespasiano 781 đš Ý#top male reader#x male reader#monster boyfriend#teratophillia#monster smut#vampire x reader#terato#smut#lieutenant x reader#monster x reader#oc x reader#monster oc#original character x reader#vespasiano 781#x reader#reader insert#asterism
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When the male hashira remember they have rights and proceed to yell the most absurd thing and when they look back at their s/o their s/o is running away like they donât them
This was a bit confusing but I hope I was able to capture what you meant;
| Freedom of speech |
Featuring; Shinazugawa Sanemi, Tomioka Giyuu, Iguro Obanai, Gyomei Himejima, Kyojuro Rengoku and Uzui Tengen.
Shinazugawa Sanemi
It wasn't uncommon for Sanemi to yell. He was a bonehead, after all, and true to his nature, the things he yelled were often absurd and completely unprovoked.
Whenever he did, you'd glare at him, hiding your face in embarrassment, while heâd scoff and swing his sword over his shoulder.
"I can do whatever I want," heâd shrug.
Today, however, was your breaking point.
As you walked down the street together on your way back from the market, Sanemi abruptly stopped and yelled at the top of his lungs, "IâLL TAKE ON ANYONE WHO SAYS PINEAPPLES DONâT BELONG ON PIZZA! COME ON!" His sword was out, waving it around invitingly at imaginary challengers.
Before he could even turn to you for backup, you were already halfway down the street, distancing yourself from him as fast as possible.
"He's not with meâŚ" you muttered to the curious onlookers, speed-walking away from him at an inhuman pace.
Tomioka Giyuu
Giyuu was socially awkward, painfully so. Whenever your friends came around, heâd retreat to his room and wait for them to leave so he could hang out with you again.
Sometimes, though, heâd get bored and hang around the hallway to snoop in on your conversations. âEavesdropping? I was just patrolling the house, Y/NâŚâ
âWhatâŚ?â
One day, he overheard your friends gossiping about him.
"Your boyfriend's pretty weird, Y/NâŚ"
"Oh, come on, guys. He's just introverted."
"Still, you should be careful. He looks like the social-recluse, no-friends, ends up murdering you type."
Out of all the things they said, the words no friends echoed in his mind for the rest of the day.
By the time the two of you went on your evening stroll, the tension had built up so much that he suddenly stopped, startling the few people nearby.
"I HAVE FRIENDS!" he yelled, his voice loud and firm.
The onlookers gave him strange looks before continuing their strolls.
You sighed and cringed, grabbing his arm. "Stop eavesdropping on my conversations, YuuâŚ"
Iguro Obanai
Sightseeing with Obanai was supposed to be a quiet, pleasant activity. With Kaburamaru draped over his shoulder, he was unrecognizable to the townspeople in the secluded tourist city.
You couldnât help but chuckle at the look of shock on his face when people bumped into him on the busy streets, shoving past without even apologizing. Back home, no one dared get within six feet of him, let alone touch him.
"Welcome to the life of a regular person, GuroâŚ" you teased, grinning.
He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly unimpressed.
But when someone pushed past him so hard that he stumbled to the ground, his patience snapped. Hashira conduct be damned.
"YOU FOOLS HAVE NO SPATIAL AWARENESS!" he roared, standing up. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING BEFORE I MAKE YOU REGRET IT!"
The street froze in silence as everyone stared at him. Dusting himself off, Obanai adjusted his haori and glared back at the onlookers.
When he turned to look for you, you were already across the street, wearing sunglasses and shaking your head.
"Weâre letting the crazies in now?" you whispered to a nearby stranger, who nodded in agreement.
Gyomei Himejima
You rarely got to see Gyomei like this, but on the rare occasion he fell sick, it was like he became an entirely different person.
Delirious and feverish, he clung to you like a lifeline, spouting random phrases that ranged from philosophical musings to utter nonsense in an entirely different language.
"Anima mea tuam desiderat," he murmured one moment, his voice full of emotion.
"Oh, GyoâŚ" you sighed, brushing his hair back fondly.
Eventually, you realized this was out of your control and decided to take him to Shinobu. It took eleven of her assistants and you to haul his enormous frame to the Butterfly Mansion.
As you sat by his bedside, you sneezed from the overwhelming smell of medicinal herbs.
"Excuse me," you mumbled, wiping your nose.
Gyomei suddenly bolted upright, his voice booming "THE SOUND OF Y/N'S SNEEZES BRINGS ME PEACE!"
You froze as the assistants burst into barely contained giggles.
Horrified, you sank lower into your chair. But when you looked over at his delirious, innocent smile, you couldnât help but smile back at your poor sick baby.
"You know what? Hell yeah," you said, leaning back in your chair.
Kyojuro Rengoku
You knew what you were signing up for when you dragged Kyojuro to the local festival. Excitable and loud, he had a tendency to make everything an event.
What you didnât anticipate, though, was how far heâd take it this time.
As he bit into a skewer of dango, he suddenly stopped, turned to the crowd, and yelled at the top of his lungs "DELICIOUS! BUT NOT AS DELICIOUS AS MY BELOVED Y/N!"
The crowd immediately erupted into âawwâs and applause. Some even started whispering about how lucky you were.
Mortified, you grabbed his arm, trying to tug him away. "Oh my gosh, Kyojuro, why?"
But his boisterous laughter only drew more attention.
âI only speak the truth, my love!â he declared, pointing dramatically toward the festival lights.
By the time you managed to drag him away, you would never bring him to another festival.
Uzui Tengen
He's had too much to drink again, everyone in the restaurant has been giving you dirty looks for the past twenty minutes.
"Uzui please...this a public space"
He ignores you, laughing louder at his own stupid joke he made earlier.
"Its true y/n! I would dog walk all the hashira! especially Tomioka, he looks very subservient!"
The restaurant went dead silent.
People stared at him, unsure whether to be horrified or amused.
By the time he turned to look for you, you had already scooted your chair over to another table.
The man you were now sitting next to gave you a questioning look.
"I have no idea who he is," you said flatly, refusing to meet Tengenâs gaze.
Omg, ya'll wouldn't believe the amount of time I spent thinking up ways for them to yell absurd things but still be in character. Because lets be for real, in what world would Gyomei yell out something like that if he wasn't not in his right mind đ
Enjoyed the story? check out more of my other Demon slayer fics and more stories! Requests are open! and don't forget to like, reblog or leave a comment pookieâĄ
#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer headcanons#demon slayer imagines#demon slayer one shots#kny x reader#kny imagines#kny oneshots#kny headcanons#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi fluff#giyuu x reader#giyuu tomioka fluff#giyuu tomioka#obanai iguro x reader#obanai iguro#obanai x reader#gyomei x reader#gyomei himejima#gyomei x y/n#kyojuro rengoku x reader#jjk x reader#tengen x reader#tengen imagines#tengen uzui#tengen x you
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Bruce Wayne x Bat!Mom
Title: Please Come Home for Christmas
Warning(s): NONE
Character(s): Bruce Wayne, f!x reader/Batmom, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth
Prompts used are in bold and italicized; italicized paragraphs are flashbacks/memories; song used is Please Come Home For Christmas (words are in red/italicized.)
SONG CAN BE PLAYED AT THIS SYMBOL đľ and the song should end about the time the last verse has been typed out. Song will be linked at that music note for your convenience. But hereâs the link to song
MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE TRANSLATED OR POSTED ANYWHERE ELSE! Šď¸
______
Christmas was your favorite holiday; the Christmas lights, the ambiance, the decorations, and being surrounded by your family made you feel complete.
The boys were in charge of decorating the seven foot Christmas tree. It was the first year you and Bruce had decided to let them take over putting up the tree and decorating it. While the boys decorated the tree in the living room, you were in the kitchen baking sugar cookies with the assistance of Bruce, while Alfred instructed the boys.
Bruce was going through the box of cookie cutters, âSeriously? You have a Batman cookie cutter?â He asked and you smiled, while pouring the two of you a glass of wine. âOf course. I figured we could do a Batman Christmas themed cookie.â Bruce rolled his eyes, and found the ziploc bag full of the normal Christmas cookie cutters.
As the two of you rolled out the cookie dough and began cutting out the festive shapes, the boys could be heard arguing in the living room. You wiped your hands on your apron, and Bruce followed quietly behind you.
Jason and Dick were trying to pull the Christmas tree out of the box, with Damian instructing them. âYou have to shimmy it!â He yelled at his two older brothers. âSHIMMY!âŚ. SHIMMY!âŚ.. SHIMMY!!â
âSHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!â Jason yelled. Alfred walked over to the credenza and poured himself a glass of bourbon before downing it in one gulp. Tim was in the corner testing the lights, and Damian turned to look over at you and Bruce. âDonât we have people to do this?â He asked and Bruce shook his head.
âNo. Since your mom and I got married, we always decorated the interior of the house. You donât need hired help for everything, Damian.â He said, and Damian flung back on to the couch.
You walked over to the couch and ruffled Damianâs hair, âThese type of things take time. Decorating is supposed to be fun, and not a chore. So câmon. Get up. Dad and I can help get the tree out of the box.â
You and Bruce helped get the tree out of the box and then fluffed out the branches. âThere, now all you boys have to do is decorate it.â You stood up from the floor, and the tone in the room seemed more bright.
Alfred walked over to the record player and put on an old Christmas record, âIt wouldnât be Christmas decorating if we didnât have on a record.â
The boys agreed with him simultaneously, and then got to work sorting out the different ornaments. Bruce followed you back into the kitchen, and continued to cut out and bake the remainder of the cookie dough. When you had placed the last sheet of cookies into the oven, Bruce pressed a kiss to your lips. âIâll be right back.â
You sipped from your glass of wine, and Bruce brought a smaller record player into the kitchen. He delicately placed a vinyl down, and music filled the kitchen.
The all too familiar tune of Please Come Home for Christmas filled your ears- the voices of the Eagles (one of your favorite bands) sang the first lyric. You smiled at Bruce, and he walked around the kitchen island.
He took the glass of wine from your hands and sat it down on the marble counter top. âMay I have this dance, Mrs. Wayne?â He asked and you pulled his body into yours. âAlways.â
He held your hips firmly and you wrapped your arms around his neck.
My babyâs gone, I have no friends
To wish me greetings once again..
His forehead leaned against yours, and the two of you swayed to the music. Unbeknownst to you, Alfred and the boys watched from the pass-through window, but the two of you were too lost in each other to notice. âWhy are they dancing to a sad song?â Jason asked and Alfred watched the two of you in awe.
âLet me tell you a story.â Alfred started and the boys turned their attention to Alfred. âYour parents had married on December 15thâ this year will be their 15th wedding anniversary. Your mum was 22 years of age and your father 25. They had decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.â The boys listened intently,
âYour father, had just become the Batman, and didnât want to take a break from it. Even if it was taking time from them celebrating this new adventure in life. Your mum had left, because he decided that being Batman was far more important than staying home for a couple of weeks.â
You and Bruce had insisted on Alfred taking the night off so the two of you could celebrate your honeymoon, and decorate the Christmas tree alone. Bora Bora was the plan, but you had wanted to celebrate Christmas at home, and Bruce agreed. You were sitting on the floor next to Bruce as he opened a box of Christmas tree lights. âI donât care what the box says, these lights are definitely not untangled.â Bruce mumbled, and you smiled.
âThereâs glitter in my hair, on my clothes, and somehow, in my coffee. This is chaos.â You replied and Bruce pressed a kiss to your temple. âWell, you look hot covered in glitter.â
The two of you helped each other decorate the tree, and shared kisses in between. Wayne Manor was being filled with Christmas music, laughter, and lots of love.
The Christmas tree was big, bright, and beautiful. It lit up the entire room, and the fire crackling set the perfect ambiance. Bruce laid out blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace, and he convinced you that instead of sleeping in the bed, the two of you could sleep in front of the fireplace.
The two of you had fallen asleep in each otherâs arms, wrapped up in nothing but the blankets. When you had woken up, your watch read 11:47 PM, and Bruce was no where to be found.
You had checked the bedroom, bathroom, the study, and even the garage. Then it had dawned on you; he was probably down in the batcave. You slipped on your silk robe, and pressed the keys on the piano, and the bookcase had opened, revealing the long, dark cave entrance.
The cool air nipped at your skin, and sure enough, there was Bruce on the platform in the middle of the water. He was pulling on his armor, and you started to walk across the short bridge; the sound of the waterfall covering the sounds of your feet.
âBruce, what are you doing?â You asked and he jumped a little.
âWell, I decided to patrol. Thereâs a lot of criminal activity tonight.â He said as he turned around in the chair to face you.
You stepped in front of him; his hands traced up your bare leg, then pulling you closer to his body. You looked down at him, your fingers running through his hair, âI thought we had agreed that you wouldnât patrol for two weeks. That we would enjoy our honeymoon, and Christmas together.â
He stood up from the chair and he sat his cowl on the desk. âIt will just be tonight, baby.â He said as his fingers combed through your hair.
His eyes were your weakness, and he knew you would break underneath his gaze, âI promise it will just be for tonight.â he whispered, and you loosened the tie to your robe, revealing your naked frame to him. A smirk worked its way across his face, and he pulled you closer to him, âWhen I get home, Iâll make it up to you Mrs. Wayne.â
Bruce pressed a kiss to your neck, and you sighed while covering up your body. âFine. But only for tonight.â
But âonly for tonightâ turned into a week. He went out every night that week, and you had decided enough was enough. One night, when Bruce had left, you packed a suitcase and booked a trip to London. If you were going to spend your honeymoon alone, you were going to have fun alone- in a different country.
âSo your mum left the country and went to London. Your father, of course, did not notice she was gone until the afternoon of the next day.â Alfred stated, and he brought the boys to the living room to finish telling the story.
âMaster B called me in a panic, and I came home straightaway. I feared that one of the adversaries had figured out who the Batman was, and took Miss Y/N.â Alfred pulled a piece a paper from the display books on the coffee table. âI found this note on this very coffee table, explaining where she was. Your father back then⌠He could be quite oblivious to these sort of things.â
~~~~~~~~~
Dearest Bruce,
I love you with all of my heart, but spending these nights alone made me realize that maybe I wasnât meant to be the wife of the Batman. I married you, Bruce. I find it tough to share you with the people of Gotham. Deep down, I know this city needs you- desperately. But I need you too. I am going to London for the remainder of our honeymoon, and I promise I will come back to Gotham so we can sort all of this out.
With love,
Y/N
~~~~~~~~~
The boys passed the letter around, âWhy didnât she just stay and tell him?â Jason asked and Alfred shrugged his shoulders.
âYour father could hear words, but he never truly listened. They were young, Jason. Communicating is something that is learned throughout the course of marriage. Itâs not always easy, and it takes two to learn, grow, and adapt with one another. Luckily, your parents worked through it, and learned.â Alfred stated and no one noticed you and Bruce standing in the doorway.
âWell, what happened next?â Tim asked and Bruce answered.
âWhen Alfred found the note, I read it. I realized I promised to take time off from Batman and spend time with my wife. And I didnât keep that promise.â Bruce sat down in the recliner, and you sat down on the arm of the chair.
His hand rested on your lower back, âI didnât know how to distribute my time- she was my girlfriend when I started Batman. She had her own life, and it wasnât until after she left I realized that she gave up a part of her life to create one with me. She couldnât do that alone.â
You turned to look at Bruce, âI went after her, and the entire trip there, all I could think about was the promise I made and didnât keep. Most people wouldnât see it as a big deal, but I made a commitment to you. A life long commitment- and if I didnât keep my promise for those two weeks like you had asked, how would you ever trust my future promises, or the promises I made when we exchanged our vows?â He spoke to you directly now.
Bruce stared up into your eyes, and he pulled you down to his lap, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. âGoing after you, was the best decision I ever made.â He pressed a kiss to your lips, and the boys made gagging sounds.
âEw! Please stop!â
âGet a room!â
âWait- what did them dancing to that sad song have anything to do with their marital problem?â Damian asked, and you turned to look at them.
You looked at Bruce for confirmation to finish the story. Bruce nodded and his cheeks turned red, âWell, I left the 22nd, and he didnât find out where I was until the afternoon of the 23rd. Then it took him until the 24th to find pilots to fly the Wayne jet, and that night he arrived in London.â You smiled at Bruce. âSo on the night of Christmas Eve, I decided to have dinner in the hotelâs restaurant. I wore my best dress, and strange enough, there was no one else in the dining hall. The lights were dimmed, and the waiter took me to a table in the middle of the room.â
Alfred took a seat on the couch, and smiled. âThere was a candle, and two wine glasses and a bottle of my favorite red wine. I turned to the waiter and explained that it was just me, but he pushed my chair in and walked away.â
Bruce hid his face in your hair, âThe stage lights turned on, and there was a group of men on the stage, and the opening notes to Please Come Home for Christmas started to play. đľ
When my eyes had adjusted to these lights, lo and behold, the Eagles, were standing in front of me.â
âBells will be ringin' the sad, sad news
Oh, what a Christmas to have the blues
My baby's gone, I have no friends
To wish me greetings once againâ
You sat there in shock, and then through the corner of your eye, Bruce was standing at the edge of the stage. Slowly, you stood up and Bruce walked over to you; he was wearing his best suit and tie. All you could do was stare at him and then back at the stage, âYou did this?â You asked and Bruce nodded.
âMay I have this dance?â He asked and you gave him your hand.
Bruce pulled you into his body, his right hand held your waist, and his left hand met your right hand. You stared up into his eyes, and he leaned his forehead against yours. âIâm sorry.â He whispered, as he spun you out away from him, and then he pulled you back into his strong embrace. âI didnât keep my promise. I feel terrible about it. But I feel even worse that it took you leaving for me to notice the broken promise.â
âSure as the stars shine above
But this is Christmas, yes, Christmas, my dear
Itâs the time of year to be with the one you love.â
âWill you forgive me, Y/N? There is no one else I would rather solve problems with, or experience life with. I only want you. Please come home for Christmas.â He whispered in your ear, and you pulled away from him.
All you could say was âYes.â And Bruceâs hand held the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your lips.
âThere'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain
And I'll be happy, happy once again.â
When he pulled away you pulled him back and pressed a long, needed kiss to his lips. âThank you for coming after me.â You said against his lips, and then you smiled. âI guess there was a less dramatic way to discuss this. Iâm sorry.â
Bruce shook his head, âThank you for leaving. Otherwise, I donât think I would have realized the error I made. I tend to hear, but not actually listen.â He said as he kissed your forehead.
âOoh, there'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain
And I'll be happy, Christmas once again.â
The final piano notes of the song played and you turned to Bruce, âHow did you manage to get the Eagles to sing in a hotel restaurant? And why is there no one else here?â You asked and Bruce smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck. âI bought the restaurant. And as for them, I bought out an entire concert to get them here, plus some since it was Christmas.â
Bruce pulled you into a hug, and he waved for the band to play the song again.
_________
âHe paid a for an entire concert? To play one song?â Dick asked and you smiled.
âNo, they played their whole set list, and we had dinner with them. But it was after all of that, that meant the most to me.â You said as you looked at Bruce.â
âEw, mom, we donât want to hear this.â Jason said as he buried his face into a throw pillow. âNot that, Jason.â You stood up and picked up a small Big Ben ornament. Bruce stood up and followed you to tree, and his hand wrapped around yours, and he helped place the ornament on a branch in the middle.
âThe clock is set to the time that your father and I kissed at our wedding, after saying I do.â You said and Bruce pulled you into a hug.
The boys surrounded the two of you, and even Alfred joined in on the hug. âSo thatâs why we take off from December 15th until the 29th.â Tim said and you smiled.
âUnless Gotham is in dire need of its Dark Knight. I too, have learned sometimes the city needs him more than I need him. But he somehow manages to be there for both.â You say, and Bruce pulls you into another breath taking kiss.
âShall we go ahead and take our annual Christmas photo?â Alfred asks and you smile.
All of you gathered around the tree, and Alfred set the cameraâs timer. He raced over and straightened out his suit and tie, âEveryone say SHIMMY!â Alfred shouted and everyone burst into laughter.
âSHIMMY!â Everyone exclaimed and the camera flash went off. In the photo, Damianâs mouth was agape, and he looked over at Jason who was laughing.
Then the fire alarm started blaring in the kitchen, âTHE COOKIES!â You and Bruce screamed, and the two of you raced into the kitchen.
Bruce opened the smoke filled oven, and pulled out the cookie sheet with a dish towel. He dropped the pan into the sink, and after the smoke had cleared, everyone had a clear view of the cookies.
They were completely burned. All everyone could do was laugh, âTheyâre cookies are as hard as hockey pucks!â Jason said as he banged them in the counter. âI wonder if a bullet would go through them?â He asked out loud.
Bruce pulled you into his body and pressed a kiss to your lips. After what Jason had said processed, you looked at him, âDonât you even think about it! No guns in the kitchen, and not shooting at the cookies!â
That night after cleaning the kitchen, the seven of you sat in the living room enjoying sugar cookies in front of the fireplace, and enjoying the view of the tree, all while playing some Wayne Family Christmas Games.
The End!
Authors Note:
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this! Comments, likes, and reblog are always appreciated. Please let me know what you thought!
xoxo
#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x batmom#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne#batman x reader#jason todd#dick grayson#damian wayne#tim drake#batmom#alfred pennyworth
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I'm adding onto this because I am having more thoughts, somehow.
Steve is smart, we all know this. But he's smart in a way that's not perceptive to everybody around him. Keep on with me here, I know this is random.
He has a certain cleverness, a customized and form-fitting mask that he wears to protect himself. No, he can't protect himself by fightingâwe've seen how that's gone down; one fight won and it still didn't end up pretty for him at the end of the day. He can't protect his preservation, constantly throwing himself in the danger. But he can protect his vulnerability, the rawer parts of himself that he hasn't allowed anybody to see.
It's so simple for him to slip into this mask, Steve Harrington the Charmer. He learned it, picked up all these skills on the way from being in the face of charismatic people: the businessmen that his dad would have over for work dinners, waiters he'd meet at higher end restaurants, John Travolta in Grease (who he totally wasn't drooling over), the principals in his schools, so on and so forth.
However, with how easy it is to basically form fit himself into this character, it's harder and harder to slip away from it. This...armored shell he's put around his flesh. Though, deep under that armor, beyond the flesh, under his ribcage, he has a heart that beats just like everybody else's; he has a brain under his "thick skull" that knows exactly what he needs and wants. He has his desires cupped in his palms, cradled close to his vivacious heart.
He crafts the mask early on in his life, though. Hears how his dad talks about "queers"âbut queer just means different, doesn't it? So his dad must be talking about different people, right? Steve's different from the girl in his second grade class; it's simpleâshe's a girl, he's notâthat's difference, that's queer...yeah? And so, based on that logic, he makes a little kid remark, "Madeline in my class is queer," and at thatâhis dad looks...just as angry as he is when Mom is arguing with him. So Steve isn't right. He doesn't say something like that again. It's all these small things. Just little things at first.
Then the little things turn to bigger things. Rumors in high school make him have to bite his tongue, in fear he'll get so outraged at his dad that something will just slip up. It's when he accidentally catches guys in the locker room giving each other handiesâwords of his dad's floating in his head about how "dirty" and "disgusting" it is.
Even if the locker room piques his interest. Even when he's catching drive-in movies and staring longer at the guys with their broad shoulders and tensing biceps and glistening eyebrows way more than he's making note about the women and their cleavageâlike his buddy Tommy would do in his ear. And speaking of Tommy...his hands and his pretty big eyes and his freckles and the height difference and and andâ
Wires get crossed somewhere in there.
He wants his dad to like him? Then he needs to make his dad proud, right? Spew the same words. Knock some screws around. Act a bit ditzy and too cool and class clown about the world. Earn a name, earn an image.
Even if it physically makes him ache deep and troubled in his stomach to say that bullshit. But he's gotta make his dad proud. "I'm taking a girl out," and "She was a very nice girl just...[not my type] no ambition after high school," and "I'm going out with Ted Wheeler's daughter, Nancy. She's a top notch student, willing to help me study, might actually get me into Tech."
He gets the pats on his shoulder. The smile with no teeth. The "atta boy".
Yet, at the same time, a slow to solder metal plate around his chest and a hammering heart behind it, jelly legs and heavy metal feet, his tingling fingers yearning for Tommy's soft palms and tensing his own hands so he can stop.
But Tommy is what he wants. And so is Peter in his English class. And so is Harvey from his Algebra class. There's Isaac and Ben and Ryan...Ethan and Jared and Luis...and how could he forget about Brad on his basketball team?
His mask is thick on his face, though; almost makes his head too heavy for his neck. And Nancy's hand holds are kinda nice. He misses her between classes...her gossip and her chattiness and her giggle fits...the kissing is alright, he supposes, just not as tender as he'd like to be. She's warm, though. And she's sweet, smart, caring. Breaks some of his mold with her nerdy friends and her nerdy brother, her saccharine smiles and long eyelashes. Sometimes, Tommy congratulates him after Steve goes on and on about the date he went on with Nancyâit's almost like he's getting a taste of what Tommy would want out of him, too.
Tommy thinks red roses are the best choice. And comedies are the best movies. He likes his popcorn with extra butter and a chilled can of Coke to go with it. Tommy doesn't put out on the first dateâ"Never have, never will. Gotta get to know my date first." He thinks dinner dates are terrible because he hates seeing how his date chews, especially on the first dateâ"Though, sometimes, it's better to know right away, Stevie. It's...kinda like a precautionary measure, y'know?" When Tommy kisses his dates, he cradles their neck; Steve has always wondered if Tommy would trace the moles on his neck if they were toâ
Nancy calls him bullshit. Nancy can't tell him that she loves him.
And he shouldn't feel relieved, he shouldn't. But he sorta is. Sorta, though. Because if he couldn't even get someone like Nancy Wheeler to love him, then who will?
Have his other girlfriends felt the same way? Could they tell that there was something else to him? Were there too many cracks in his smiles?
If it's ever okay to have a boyfriendâbecause right now it isn't, not with that disease going around, not with what his dad says, not with Reaganâwould those boyfriends think the same way? Would they call him bullshit for only ever being with women prior? Would they tell him that he doesn't have enough to give? That he's an impostor?
Who is he really an imposter to?
His partners? His parents?
Himself?
It's too big of a question to answer. But it's a questionâor, really, a series of questionsâthat click and clack around his skull like the pendulum marbles that Mr. Clarke had on his desk. There's an itching, fresh scabbing anxiety carbonating in his blood. That everybody can tell there's something different, that maybe he's compensating a little too hard.
So he backs away a bit. Lets go of his previous ambitions, the desire to be seen one wayâeven if the true is desire is to just be free. To be the queer, the difference; a person he could be, rather than should be.
And once he's sitting on that bathroom floor, knees knocking against Robin Buckley's of all people, something settles in him. Not a calm sort of settle, but a settle nonetheless. He gets it. The reverent bravery, that peel back Robin is giving him, letting him see the citrus flavorful center of her soul. It takes a lot to admit something like this, like that.
It's not his time, not yet.
But he sees Robin flourish. Her rattling, raspy laughter. The freckles that develop on her face over the coming month after Starcourt, running free and open in the sun. Come September, ducking into the break room to ramble on and on about this girl in band, splitting burgers over a paper bag, dipping French fries into ketchup on the same damn bag.
It's surprisingly easy to talk to her about her queerness. To be able to pull out a magazine and point at actresses and models that seem like Robin's type. To finally pick-up on the subtle clues that Robin really, really likes this girl from bandânoticing well before Robin even notices.
And though he keeps up the image for a while longer, he knows at least one thing:
Robin is who he'll come to first.
Well, after he faces the man in the mirror.
I love secretly closeted Steve Harrington. I love when he knows himself, knows the truth of his identity, knows that how he views men isn't a fluke. I love secretly closeted Steve Harrington who dates girls and has sex with girls to protect himself, to keep an image, to try and earn an ounce of recognition and respect from his dad.
I love secretly closeted Steve Harrington who recognizes Robin's bravery when she came out. But he keeps his secret to himself for a while longer. Who joins in on the joke of just how bad he is at pulling girls. Who upholds an image as just that, an image.
A secretly closeted Steve who gets frustrated at the projection painted onto him. Steve Harrington the ladies' man. Steve Harrington who gets the girl. Steve Harrington who can get into bed with any girl he wants. He's frustrated and he hates all the assumptions, but he can't shake them, can't explain whyânot without revealing himself. But he knows who he is. Knows the type of person he wants.
I love when he's nervous, but still proud. Who, slowly and surely, cements his identity within himselfâso it transcends knowledge, it's deeply intertwined within. He goes to Robin first, because he feels as though that's a good first baby stepâbecause he knows for certain that Robin will accept him. And, with minor hesitance, goes to Nancy. And with a long conversation, some tissues, and gentle smiles passed back and forth, Nancy then understands, too.
The last person is Eddie. Which is harder. Which frustrates him further. Because Eddie won't stop asking him about women, won't stop categorizing him as straight, some god among men. He just wants to be Steve Harrington. Not Steve Harrington. Not ladies man, Steve Harrington.
Steve Harrington who likes men. Only men. Who compensated for years just so he can uphold a safe life for himself, who was threatened constantly (though not directly at him) by what his dad would say about those queers, who covered for himself the only way he knew how.
And though it takes longer, some deep wounds and harsh words about how he isn't experimenting, that his sexuality can't just be decided for him, that he has a right to exploreâeven if the exploration never amounted to anythingâSteve is able to get Eddie's trust. Eventually, again slowly, get Eddie's hand intertwined with his. And even later after that, a shy kiss; his first kiss with a man that aids in solidifying the last, hairline fracture in his whole.
Steve Harrington who is gay and learns over time to be proud of that. But also, closeted Steve Harrington who goes on the journey to get to the end resultâI love him so so so much and he means so much to me. And now I need to write him and make this version a reality.
#stranger things#platonic stobin#platonic stancy#past stancy#eventual steddie#steddie#steve harrington#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#eddie munson#closeted steve harrington#comphet steve harrington#gay steve harrington
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Twisted Weddings: Photoshoot #4 - Such a Blessing - Kalim
Summary: Your fourth photoshoot was with Kalim and actually involved an outfit traditional to Scalding Sands culture. And, fittingly, you ended up recreating a wedding picture of Kalimâs parents as a light rain started to fall over you both.
Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ Series/ sfw/ fluff/
Twisted Weddings Series Masterlist
Word count: 904
Crewel tilted his head, frowning slightly as he looked between me and the perfectly giddy Kalim, who already had my hand clasped in his warm one.
âI wasnât sure about designing a bridal outfit that is more traditional to the Scalding Sands, butâŚ. I think itâs worked out rather nicely,â Crewel finally nodded as he spoke, and I glanced down at the shirt and skirt, or rather, lehenga, that I wore.
Brilliant red with shiny gold embroidery covering both the short-sleeved bodice and the perfectly massive lehenga skirt that had about three layers in total.
âI think it looks great! If you want, I can give you some more jewelry to wear with it to complete the look!â Kalim looked between me and Crewel excitedly.
Both of us shook our heads hurriedly, apparently agreeing that I was already bedecked in enough gold, even as Kalim frowned in obvious confusion before he quickly recovered, âSo what are we going to be doing?â
Crewel tilted his head as he eyed us, âHmm, I was considering something that would show off the full breadth of the skirt, but now that weâre hereâŚâŚâ
âI could kiss Y/n on the cheek!â I blinked at Kalimâs words in surprise, turning to look his way as he outright beamed at Crewel, who stared back at him in surprise that was similar to mine.
Kalim continued though, happily explaining himself as he glanced between me and our instructor, âIâve seen my parentâs wedding pictures, and one of my momâs favorites has my dad kissing her on the cheek! She always looks so happy when she sees that picture. In fact, her smile is the exact same as the one she has in the picture!â
Crewel nodded, still looking half-surprised as his gaze met mine and I lifted my shoulder in a half-shrug, largely unbothered by Kalimâs suggestions. It wasnât like it would be the first time he gave me a kiss of some sort to display his occasionally overwhelming affection, âWell, it sounds like a cute enough picture; itâs your line of wedding clothes, though.â
âNo, it suits me if youâre fine with it.â The instructor shook his head at my words as he continued, âIâll go tell the photographer, so you two can get in position whenever youâre ready.â
I felt myself smile slightly as I glanced back over towards Kalim only to find the young man already smiling brightly at me.
His hand found mine, clasping it tightly as he continued to beam, âMomâll be so happy when she sees these pictures! I bet sheâll want to meet you and everything!â
I felt myself chuckle slightly at his joyful nature even as I tilted my head at him, âDid you already tell your parents that you were going to be a model for Crewelâs line of bridal clothes?â
He shook his head, laughing in that perfectly carefree nature of his, âNah, but my mom likes looking at wedding dresses, so I know sheâll see the images! She says wedding pictures make her happy.â
âWeâre going to have to take these pictures quickly since itâs getting overcast. Are you two ready?â I straightened at the photographer's words. But he was right. Dark clouds were already overhead, and I couldnât help but wonder if it would mess up the lighting for the pictures.
At odds with worries, Kalim was wholly unbothered as he glanced up towards the heavens above us, âOh, do you think itâll rain? That would make for a really great picture!â
I glanced at him, half-confused by his words as I frowned slightly, tilting my head at the perpetually bubbly young man, âBecause a rainy wedding day is supposed to be good luck?â
He laughed at my words, shaking his head, âNo, I just think it would be nice. Rain is always such a blessing after all.â
His red eyes were bright as he grinned at me. Almost brighter than the red of my outfit, and I felt myself smile at his words. Idly wondering how he could be quite so positive about everything, even as I nodded, finding myself squeezing his hand slightly as I spoke, âLetâs hope for the best then.â
He squeezed my hand lightly in return, his expression briefly softening before he looked back over towards where Crewel and the photographer both stood and waved with his free hand, âWeâre ready!â
The photographer gave a thumbs up and held up his camera at almost the same time it started to drizzle.
And though I had no idea how he managed to time it quite so perfectly, Kalim tugged me over and kissed me lightly on the cheek, causing me to laugh slightly at his eagerness at the precise moment that the camera flashed. Capturing and immortalizing the moment for eternity as Kalim burst into laughter from beside me.
Wholly unbothered by the rain that was steadily picking up even as Crewel shook his head at us with a distinctly fond smile. But at this point, I felt like most people were fond of Kalim.
Because when it came right down to it, it was hard to be frustrated with Kalim, and the young man always seemed to cause people to smile when he was nearby.
And even without either Crewel or the photographer saying anything as they both peered at the picture on the cameraâs screen, I had no doubts that the photograph was perfect.
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#Twisted Wonderland Imagines#Kalim x reader#Kalim Al-Asim#female reader#Twisted Wonderland x reader#Twisted Wonderland#fluff#sfw#wedding clothes#rain#photography#featuring Crewel#fic series#800 followers#mywritings#it-happened-one-fic#Kalim x you#Kalim x y/n#Kalim Al-Asim x reader#twst x reader#twst#twst x you#twst x y/n#Twisted Wonderland x you#Twisted Wonderland x y/n#fanfiction#Disney TW
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Hey! Glad that more people who love Zenless are here on tumblr. And Iâve been loving some characters but Iâm trying to see if i really like Harumasa. So mind helping me out with some headcanons?
Harumasa with a dragon thiren reader who works a bookshop (and secretly is a proxy) who can summon wings, a tail, and a hornâ¨
Just general headcanons on how this relationship would be!
Harumasa x Dragon Thiren!Reader
Warning: none, not proofread!
Note: my ass had to skip and skimp through some parts so i was genuinely confused what a Thiren is then i found a post on reddit explaining what it is. Thank you for requesting and having patience!
At first he doesn't look like a guy who would visit a Bookshop so often but he does read books sometimes rather than the papers in office.
After hearing from yanagi that you keep some of the best books around the sixth Street oh well he had to visit
Though you keep your tail and wings hidden most of the time you wear a cloak around you a short one to keep it over your head to cover the horns it's energy consuming to hide them all the time.
You keep your bookstore in the vintage style! It's a good change of place without electronics around. ( A big ass lie)
Of course you were surprised by the first visit of yanagi even and now him got you thinking you might get behind the bars soon.
You really haven't done anything bad being a proxy quite the opposite you have helped people get out of the hollows and often retrieve lost items as commissions.
Your H.D.D is hidden in the storage room which is also filled with different type of books.
And The siblings are also in your contacts it's never bad to have back ups!
Although he was confused why you had your head covered he didn't question it.
He doesn't know why he found himself often around your bookshop it was almost alluring in a peaceful way.
He doesn't read much he often comes here to seek a nap on one of your reading places yet he has the membership to your shop.
Even your bangboo has become all familiar to him, it always knows it's him when there is only one knock on the door. ( He is too lazy to knock twice anyways lol)
Though your cover as a proxy didn't stay for long under his sharp eyes.
Well it's a whatever case now as you and the siblings were excused as a proxy by miyabi herself.
He never outright told you to show him what you actually are but he definitely hints at it sometimes.
And not to mention those pick up lines he drops every now and then from the books and movies he had watched.
Well of course there is nothing to hide from him now anyways. He was amused he has seen many thirens, an oni a cat, wolf and shark. However seeing a dragon was really amusing to him.
Get ready for the absolute amount of ridiculous questions to be asked. He is not holding back.
He definitely read about dragons in the books you have after that of course and his nap time at the shop is more peaceful than ever now.
He might have asked to see your tail sometimes out of curiosity. Feel free to refuse if you don't wanna go that far. But if you let him see he is amazed how well you hide yourself.
He says the horns on your head add to your charm.
He never saw you fight but he has you running around in your bangboo beside him in the hollow.
He definitely takes his power naps with your tail warped around him.
He has read about dragons banishing evil and bringing good luck so now you are named as "Lucky Charm" in his contacts. Only his lucky charm.
#harumasa zzz#harumasa x reader#asaba harumasa#zenless zone zero headcanons#zenless zone zero x reader#harumasa asaba x reader#zzz x reader#zzzero
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Face Masks?
i need to stop writing this shit bc its making me depresseeedd i need himmm
my masterlist xxx
The room was dimly lit, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the room.Â
You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the wooden frame slightly chipped but charming nonetheless, humming a tune to yourself as you adjusted the headband holding your hair back.Â
The faint scent of roses filled the air, delicate and warm, emanating from the homemade face mask you were mixing in a ceramic bowl Maria had lent you.Â
You bit your lip in concentration, the wooden spoon swirling through the creamy mixture as you tried to remember the exact instructions Maria had given you earlier that day.
From the bedroom, Joelâs voice broke the peaceful quiet. He was grumbling, his tone steeped in frustration and exhaustion. âHeâs a goddamn idiot,â he groaned, clearly talking about someone from patrol. âTold him to stay low, and what does he do? Barges in and almost gets us killed.âÂ
A muffled clink followed, the sound of ceramic touching wood as he set something down on the bedside table. Likely your tea, judging by the faint whiff of chamomile drifting into the room.
Then, his voice shifted, the sharp edges dulled by a tired sort of affection. âBaby,â he called, low and gruff, âyou cominâ to bed, or you planninâ on spendinâ the whole damn night in the bathroom?â The words carried a teasing hint, though softer, quieter, he added, almost to himself, âYour teaâs gonna get cold.â
A small smile tugged at your lips as you called back, teasing, âYou missinâ me already?â
There was a beat of silence, then his reply came, gruff but undeniably warm. âI wouldnât be askinâ if I didnât.â
Your heart fluttered a little, the way it always did when Joel said something like thatânot exactly romantic, but the kind of thing only he could make feel like one.Â
âJust a few more minutes,â you called out, âgotta make sure Iâm extra soft and pretty for you.â
âDonât need any of that,â he muttered, but it was loud enough for you to hear. âYouâre already plenty pretty.â
Your cheeks warmed at the unexpected compliment, even though his tone was gruff. You shook your head, grinning to yourself.Â
âAlright,â you replied, your voice carrying through the half-open door. You set the bowl down on the counter and grabbed the jar of homemade moisturizer Maria had also insisted you try. The subtle scent of lavender and honey wafted up as you scooped some into your hands, rubbing it between your palms before smoothing it over your legs.
âSo, what happened after?â you asked, keeping your tone light, though curiosity lingered beneath your words. Joel wasnât the type to gripe unless something had well and truly gotten under his skin.
From the bedroom, you heard him sigh, long and heavy, the sound carrying the weight of his frustration. The soft rustle of the bedsheets followedâhe was probably settling in, though you could imagine him rubbing a hand over his face, trying to shake off the day.
âWhat happened?â he echoed, his voice tinged with exasperation. âHad to clean up his damn mess, thatâs what. Kid thinks heâs invincible.â The irritation sharpened as he went on, his voice rising as though he were speaking to the ceiling, reliving the ordeal as he vented. âWalked us straight into an ambush, and I ended up takinâ the brunt of it.â
âWow,â you gushed aloud, unable to help yourself as you swirled the spoon in the bowl, your voice filled with playful admiration. âMy man, taking on all those scary raiders. Bet you looked sexy doing it.â
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You smiled to yourself in the mirror, already imagining Joelâs reaction. The way his brows would knit together, that half-gruff, half-flustered expression heâd never admit to, and maybe even a quiet huff of disbelief.
From the bedroom, Joel sighed, loud and dramatic enough for you to hear. âCome out here, please,â he called, his voice carrying that familiar mix of irritation and something softer. âChrist, whyâd I gotta beg with you?â
Curious, you leaned out of the bathroom just enough to catch a glimpse of him, careful not to draw his attention. There he was, sprawled across the bed in a way that was all Joelâequal parts rugged and weary.
His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his expression carrying that familiar blend of irritation and exhaustion that somehow made your chest tighten. Gosh, he was gorgeous, and the sight of him had your cheeks warming despite yourself.
And then there was his faceâflushed in a way you recognized instantly. The kind of flush heâd get when he was flustered but too stubborn to admit it.
One arm was tucked behind his head, his elbow jutting out, while the other rested on his chest, fingers absently tapping against the fabric of his shirt. The movement was rhythmic, almost absentminded, as if it might somehow work out the frustration simmering beneath his skin.
His tousled hair framed his face in a way that softened his usually stern features, and the sight of him in a soft gray pyjama shirt and dark pantsâclothes that clung just slightly to his broad frameâwas disarming. There was something so ordinary about it, so wonderfully domestic.
The bed, far too small for a man like him, groaned faintly under his weight, his legs just barely hanging off the edge. He shifted slightly, a sigh escaping his lips, and for a fleeting moment, you felt like an intruder on something too personal, too real. But you couldnât look awayâhe was an unexpected contradiction, all gruffness wrapped in quiet vulnerability, and it left you completely undone.
You smiled to yourself, biting back a laugh at how ridiculously cute he looked in that moment, before calling out teasingly, âSo you yell at the poor guy?â
âHell yeah, I did,â Joel shot back, his tone unapologetic, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
âWell,â you replied, finally stepping out of the bathroom with the bowl of face mask in your hands, the soft scent of roses trailing after you as you made your way to the bed. âI got somethinâ that might help you relax.â
Joel shifted at the sound of your voice, propping himself up slightly on one elbow. His gaze landed on you, and for a moment, his expression softened, the frustration from earlier melting away just a little. âI like the sound of that,â he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges. His eyes swept over you, lingering for a beat too long.
You could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it took in the sight of you in his oversized T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, the hem of the shirt brushing just above your knees. There was something unreadable in his expression, though the way his brow ticked up ever so slightly told you he probably had the wrong idea about how exactly you planned to help him relax.
The corner of your mouth twitched with amusement as you climbed onto the bed, careful not to spill the bowl in your hands. Joelâs eyes followed your every move, curiosity flickering in their depths as he tilted his head slightly.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking from the bowl in your hands to your face and back again, his expression suspicious. âThe hell is that?â he asked, his voice low and dripping with skepticism.
âA face mask,â you replied simply, your tone as matter-of-fact as if youâd just declared the sky was blue.
Joelâs brows knit together, his confusion almost comical. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he were trying to puzzle out some great mystery. âFor your face,â you added, enunciating each word slowly like he might not have understood.
His reaction was immediateâhis lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line, and he leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest. âNo way in hell youâre puttinâ that shit on me,â he said, his voice firm, like he was drawing a line in the sand.
You pouted dramatically, sticking your bottom lip out just enough to make him groan, the sound low and reluctant as his head tilted back against the headboard. âOh, come on, Joel,â you coaxed, your voice lilting with playful innocence. âItâs supposed to be good for your skin. Donât you trust me?â
Joel groaned, a deep, reluctant sound as his head leaned back against the headboard. âAn old man like me is way past carinâ about his skin,â he muttered, shaking his head.
His eyes snapped back to yours, narrowing suspiciously, but before he could protest again, you leaned in closer, letting your fingers brush ever so lightly against the hem of his pyjama pants. âMaybe if you do it,â you murmured, your tone teasing, âIâll help you unwind another way too.â
Joel froze, his gaze locked on you as the faintest flush crept up his neck. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, visibly wrestling with whatever was going through his head. âYouâre playinâ dirty,â he muttered finally, his voice low and gravelly, but there was no mistaking the way his jaw ticked, like he was trying not to let you see how flustered he was.
You tilted your head, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. âIs it workinâ?â
âChrist,â he muttered under his breath, rubbing his hand over his face as though already regretting the conversation. âThe things I do for youâŚâ
Your face lit up with a triumphant smile. âIs that a yes?â
He grumbled something incoherent before sighing deeply. âHurry up before I change my mind,â he said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillow.
You squealed softly, unable to contain your excitement as you settled closer to his broad body, the warmth of him grounding you. With gentle fingers, you collected the rose-scented mask and smoothed it over his weathered skin, taking your time to ensure every stroke was perfect. The contrast between his rugged, sun-worn features and the soft, floral scent of the mask struck you as oddly endearing.
Here he was, Joel Millerâthe man who could take down an infected in seconds without breaking a sweatânow lying still and letting you paint his face with homemade skincare. The absurdity of it made your chest swell with affection, and you couldnât help the giggle that slipped out as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.
You admired his face as he lay there, his features finally relaxed, the usual tension around his brow melting away. For a moment, he looked completely at peace, the lines on his face softer, his breathing slow and steady. Your eyes wandered over him, taking in the details you rarely let yourself linger on.
âYouâve got the prettiest eyelashes, baby,â you murmured, the words slipping out before you could catch them.
Joelâs lips twitched, the faintest smirk forming, though he didnât open his eyes. âPrettiest, huh?â he muttered, his voice rough but tinged with teasing.
âAnd the nicest lips,â you added softly, unable to help yourself as you leaned down, brushing your own lips against his in a fleeting kiss. His mouth curved into a smile beneath yours, the warmth of it sending a flutter of butterflies racing through your chest.
âUrgh,â you groaned, pulling back just enough to sit beside him, the bowl resting on your lap. âYouâre so handsome.â
Joelâs hand moved without hesitation, even with his eyes still closed. His large, calloused fingers found your thigh, squeezing gently, the roughness of his touch making your heart skip a beat.
He chuckled low, a sound that was equal parts amusement and satisfaction. âLook at you, beinâ nice to me,â he teased, his eyes staying closed, though the smirk that tugged at his lips was impossible to miss.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you dipped your fingers back into the face mask. âHey,â you said, swiping a playful line of the mixture across his forehead to smooth it out evenly, âIâm always nice to you.â
âDebatable,â he added lazily, the teasing warmth in his voice making you laugh.
âShut up,â you shot back, still laughing as you set the bowl down on the nightstand.
Joelâs brow furrowed slightly, his hand brushing against his cheek as he frowned. âIs it meant to be this cold?â
âYes,â you said firmly, batting his hand away before he could smear it. âDonât touch it.â
He opened his eyes then, fixing you with a deadpan look that wouldâve been more convincing if his lips werenât twitching. âYou happy now?â
You grinned at him, your smile wide enough to make your eyes crinkle. âVery.â
âGood,â Joel muttered, leaning back into the pillow with a soft sigh. âGimme a kiss.â
You leaned in obligingly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, your gaze lingering on his face for a moment longer than you intended. âOkay, my turn,â you declared suddenly, sitting up and setting the bowl down before flopping back onto the bed beside him, your eyes falling shut in a dramatic flourish.
Joel raised an eyebrow, his skepticism plain as he turned his head to look at you. âYou want me toâŚ?â
âYes,â you said, cutting him off with a firm nod, your eyes still closed. âYou. Me. Face mask. Now.â
âFucking hell,â Joel muttered under his breath, pushing himself up onto his knees with a grunt. The bed groaned under his weight, but he paid it no mind, instead staring down at the bowl like it was some alien artifact. âWhat, I just⌠put my fingers in it?â
One of your eyes popped open, and the second you caught the unintentional innuendo, you burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room.
Joel froze for a moment, realization dawning as his lips pulled into a reluctant, crooked smile. He shook his head, groaning dramatically. âChrist, youâre dirty-minded,â he muttered, though the glint of humor in his eyes betrayed him.
âYouâre the one who said it,â you teased, your laughter finally subsiding as you closed your eyes again, a grin still tugging at your lips. âJust spread it on my face, okay? Itâs not rocket science.â
âAlright,â Joel said, his voice low and quieter now, tinged with something softer. He dipped his fingers into the bowl, hesitating for just a moment before shifting closer. âStay still,â he murmured, his tone gentler than you expected.
âHmm,â you hummed, relaxing further into his touch, the gentle strokes of his fingers soothing you like nothing else could.
âMy gorgeous girl,â Joel murmured, his voice so low you almost didnât catch it.
Your lips curled into a small, pleased smile, the warmth of his words settling in your chest. âHmm,â you hummed again, teasing now. âAm I the prettiest girl in Jackson?â
Joel hesitated for just a moment, and then he leaned down, his lips brushing your temple with a featherlight touch as he whispered, âPrettiest girl in the damn world, baby.â
Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth blooming in your chest that made you feel like you might burst. âJoel,â you murmured, your eyes fluttered open, seeking his.
âEyes closed, darlinâ,â he said softly, his voice low but steady, a firm gentleness lacing his words. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the calloused pad grazing your skin so tenderly it made you melt.
You obeyed, closing your eyes again with a small smile, but you couldnât help the way your lips curved up, warmth spreading through you from the way he spoke to you, the way he touched you.
He smoothed the last bit of the mask onto your forehead, his fingers moving gently, almost reverently. His eyes traced the lines of your face, committing every detail to memory.
âAll done,â he murmured finally, leaning back just enough to give you space.
You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, and the look on his face made your breath catch. He was watching you with a softness that stole the air from your lungs, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
âThanks,â you said softly, your voice almost shy now, the intimacy of the moment making your heart race.
Joelâs lips curved into that small, crooked smile of his, the one that never failed to make your stomach flip. âAnytime, baby,â he replied, his voice low and warm, as he set the bowl aside on the nightstand. Without hesitation, he plopped down onto his side of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he stretched out beside you.
A comfortable silence settled between you, the kind that felt easy and natural, until Joelâs brow furrowed slightly. He turned his head toward you, his expression equal parts curious and skeptical. âNow how long do we keep this shit on?â
You burst into laughter, the spell of the moment breaking just enough to make you grin. âTen minutes, maybe fifteen,â you said, still giggling. âYouâre already doing better than most.â
Joel huffed, shaking his head with mock exasperation, but the faint smile tugging at his lips told you he didnât really mind. âYouâre lucky youâre cute,â he muttered, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh.
âAnd donât you forget it,â you teased, settling beside him, your shoulder brushing his. His hand found yours without hesitation, his fingers curling around yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world
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It all started with a song || Lee Jihoon
Pairing: Producer-Idol Jihoon x Producer-Solo Idol Reader
Genre: Fluff, Idol romance
Summary: Jihoon, the reserved genius of SEVENTEEN, unexpectedly finds himself drawn to Y/N, a rising junior idol from HYBE, after collaborating on a duet. What starts as a professional partnership blossom into a heartfelt romance, captured in their respective songs
Author's note: This is my first time writing a story, and I truly appreciate you giving it a chance. Please forgive me if there are any mistakesâIâm still learning and growing as a writer. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and support my work. It means the world to me, and I hope you enjoy the journey Iâve created.
Jihoon was preparing to release his solo album, which included a heartfelt duet about two lovers. After finishing his own parts, his next challenge was to find the perfect female lead for the song. With Bumzuâs help, he sifted through several demos of the female section.
After an exhaustive search, one demo finally stood out to himâit was exactly what he was looking for. When Bumzu visited him the next day, he asked, âDid any of the lyrics catch your attention?â
Jihoon nodded and showed him the demo.
âOh, so you liked Y/Nâs lyrics,â Bumzu said with a knowing smile. Thatâs when Jihoon learned that the lyrics had been written by Y/N, a junior solo idol from HYBE.
âYouâve never met her, have you?â Bumzu asked.
Jihoon shook his head. It was no surpriseâeveryone knew Jihoon wasnât one to socialize much.
âIâll bring her to the studio tomorrow,â Bumzu said confidently before heading out, leaving Jihoon to ponder the upcoming meeting.
The next day, Jihoon arrived at the studio earlier than usual, his mind a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He wasnât sure what to expect. He knew Y/N by name, but meeting her in person would be different.
As he set up his equipment, the door swung open, and Bumzu walked in with a bright grin. Behind him was Y/N, her presence soft yet commanding. She wore a simple outfit, but her confidence and aura made it clear why she was a rising star.
âJihoon, meet Y/N,â Bumzu introduced.
Jihoon stood, his usual calm demeanor masking his nerves. âHi,â he greeted simply, bowing slightly.
âHi! Itâs so great to finally meet you Sunbae-nim" Y/N said with a warm smile. Her voice was light and melodic, just as heâd imagined. âIâve heard so much about you and your music.â
âLikewise, but please don't call me sunbae-nim, you can call me by my name,â Jihoon replied, his words brief but sincere.
Bumzu clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. âAlright, letâs get to work! You two have a duet to perfect.â
Jihoon gestured toward the recording booth, silently inviting Y/N to take her place. As they started working through the song, Jihoon found himself impressedânot just by her vocal ability but by her understanding of the emotions behind the lyrics.
They went over the harmonies and phrasing, fine-tuning every detail. By the end of the session, Jihoon was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly everything had gone. Y/N wasnât just talented; she was professional and insightful, bringing a depth to the song that exceeded his expectations.
âYouâre really good,â Jihoon said as they wrapped up, his tone earnest.
Y/N beamed. âThank you! Your composition is amazingâit makes it easy to connect with the song.â
For the first time in a while, Jihoon felt a genuine sense of excitement about the project. Maybe working with others wasnât so bad after all.
After their first session, Jihoon couldnât stop thinking about how seamlessly Y/N had brought the song to life. It was rare for him to feel this level of connection with another artist, especially so quickly.
The next day, Bumzu texted Jihoon. "How was it working with Y/N? She said she had a great time."
Jihoon hesitated for a moment before typing back. "Sheâs talented. The songâs coming together well."
Bumzu responded with a teasing emoji. "Thatâs high praise from you! Maybe you should tell her that in person."
Jihoon frowned slightly but didnât reply. Compliments werenât exactly his strong suit.
Their second studio session was scheduled later that week. Y/N arrived on time, as cheerful and prepared as before. Jihoon noticed how her energy seemed to brighten the room, even when she was just warming up.
âGood morning!â she greeted with a bright smile.
Jihoon nodded. âMorning. Ready to dive in?â
âAlways,â she said confidently.
As they worked through the song again, Jihoon found himself more at ease. Y/Nâs suggestions were thoughtful, and she wasnât afraid to ask questions or offer input, which he appreciated. Somewhere in between harmonizing and tweaking lines, they started to find a rhythmânot just in the music, but in their conversations.
During a short break, Y/N leaned back in her chair. âYou know, Jihoon, this is one of the most beautiful songs Iâve ever worked on. It feels so raw and real.â
Jihoon glanced at her, caught off guard by her sincerity. âThanks. That means a lot,â he said quietly.
âIs it based on a personal experience?â she asked cautiously, as if afraid to overstep.
He hesitated for a moment before replying. âKind of. Itâs⌠inspired by the idea of love. Not necessarily mine, though.â
Y/N tilted her head, studying him. âI get it. Sometimes itâs easier to write about emotions from a distance.â
Jihoon nodded, appreciating her understanding. Their conversation drifted to other topicsâmusic, inspirations, and even random stories about life as idols. For someone heâd only met recently, Y/N was surprisingly easy to talk to.
By the end of the session, the song was nearly complete. As they packed up, Y/N turned to Jihoon.
âI think this duet is going to be really special,â she said. âThank you for letting me be part of it.â
Jihoon looked at her, feeling a rare warmth in her words. âYou brought the song to life. I should be thanking you.â
Her eyes lit up at his unexpected praise. âWell, I guess we make a pretty good team,â she said with a grin.
Jihoon allowed himself a small smile. âYeah, we do.â
As Y/N left the studio that day, Jihoon couldnât help but think that meeting her had been one of the best things to happen during this project.
In the weeks that followed, Jihoon and Y/N spent more time together polishing their duet. Each session seemed to bring them closer, not just as collaborators but as individuals. Y/Nâs infectious laughter and unfiltered enthusiasm often pulled Jihoon out of his shell, while Jihoonâs quiet determination and thoughtful approach inspired Y/N to push herself even further.
One day, as they wrapped up the final recording, Bumzu entered the studio with a wide grin. âSo, how does it feel to be done?â
Y/N clapped her hands together excitedly. âIt feels amazing! I canât wait for people to hear it.â
Jihoon nodded in agreement, his usual stoicism giving way to a subtle but genuine smile. âItâs better than I imagined.â
Bumzu raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. âWow, Jihoon actually giving compliments? I need to write this down.â
Y/N laughed. âHeâs not that bad. Heâs just⌠selective with his words.â
Jihoon shot her a mock glare, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, he found himself smiling along with herâa rare occurrence that didnât go unnoticed by Bumzu.
As they packed up, Bumzu pulled Jihoon aside. âYou know, youâve changed a bit since working with her,â he said casually.
Jihoon frowned. âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean, you seem⌠lighter. Happier, even,â Bumzu said with a knowing grin. âItâs a good look on you.â
Jihoon didnât respond immediately. Instead, he glanced over at Y/N, who was chatting animatedly with a staff member. There was something about herâsomething that made him feel less burdened, more open to the world around him.
The songâs release day arrived, and the response was overwhelming. Fans praised the emotional depth of the duet, calling it one of Jihoonâs best works yet. Many were also captivated by the chemistry between Jihoon and Y/N, evident not just in their vocals but in the behind-the-scenes clips shared online.
As they stood backstage during a live performance, Y/N turned to Jihoon. âAre you nervous?â she asked, noticing his unusually quiet demeanor.
âA little,â he admitted. âNot about the song, though. I just hope people feel what we tried to convey.â
Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. âThey will. This song has so much heart in it. Youâve poured yourself into it, and Iâve never been prouder to be part of something.â
Her words struck a chord with Jihoon. For the first time in a long while, he didnât feel alone in his creative journey. âThank you,â he said softly.
When they stepped on stage and began to sing, Jihoon realized something unexpected. The song, which heâd once viewed as merely a project, had become something far more personal. And in that moment, as their voices blended and the audienceâs applause filled the air, Jihoon understood just how much Y/N had changed his perspectiveânot just on music, but on life itself.
After the performance, Y/N grinned at him. âSee? We nailed it.â
Jihoon met her gaze, his expression warm. âWe really did.â
And as they walked off stage together, Jihoon couldnât help but think that this was only the beginning of a story far greater than either of them had anticipated.
In the days following the song's release, the hype only grew. The other members of SEVENTEEN were quick to congratulate Jihoon. Mingyu, with his ever-present energy, was the first to bring it up during one of their group practice sessions.
âHyung! That duet is insane! Everyoneâs talking about you and Y/N,â Mingyu said, clapping him on the back.
Joshua added with a smile, âYeah, the fans are loving the chemistry. You two sounded amazing together.â
Jihoon felt a rare flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. âThanks, guys. It was a lot of work, but she made it easier.â
âOh-ho!â Seungkwan chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. âHyung admitting someone made his life easier? This must be a first!â
The room erupted into laughter. Even Jeonghan, who always had a teasing comment up his sleeve, smirked. âSo when do we get to meet this famous Y/N?â
Before Jihoon could respond, the studio door creaked open and in walked Bumzuâwith Y/N beside him. The sudden appearance of their guest caught everyoneâs attention.
âSpeak of the devil!â Vernon said, raising an eyebrow.
Y/N waved nervously, a bit overwhelmed by being surrounded by the full force of SEVENTEEN. âHi, everyone. Itâs nice to finally meet all of you.â
Dino bounded over with enthusiasm. âYouâre the one with that amazing voice! Your part in the song gave me chills.â
âThanks!â Y/N said, her smile growing as she relaxed.
Hoshi, never one to miss a moment, stepped forward and grinned. âAre you ready to dance with us too? Because in SEVENTEEN, we donât just singâwe dance.â
Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldnât hide a small smirk. âDonât scare her off, Hoshi.â
Y/N laughed, feeling at ease now. âIâd love to try sometime, but I donât think I could keep up with you guys. Iâm more of a singer than a dancer.â
Jun nudged Jihoon playfully. âLooks like youâre not the only one whoâs found a great collaborator.â
Over the next hour, SEVENTEEN welcomed Y/N into their world, joking and sharing stories. The room was filled with laughter, the groupâs usual dynamic enriched by a new presence. Jihoon found himself observing the way Y/N blended in so effortlessly, as if sheâd been part of their chaotic family all along.
As the evening went on, Minghao approached Jihoon with a knowing smile. âYou look happy,â he said simply.
Jihoon glanced at Y/N, who was now in an animated conversation with DK and Woozi, sharing anecdotes about their vocal warm-ups. A small, content smile played on his lips. âI guess I am.â
A few weeks later, SEVENTEEN was preparing for a group livestream, and Y/N was invited to join as a surprise guest. Jihoon wasnât thrilled about the idea at firstâhe preferred to keep things professionalâbut the rest of the members were insistent.
âCome on, Jihoon,â Seungkwan pleaded. âThe fans already love you two together. This will be fun!â
âItâs a great way to promote the song even more,â Mingyu added. âPlus, we want to see how she handles being in one of our chaotic lives.â
Reluctantly, Jihoon agreed, and Y/N arrived at the dorm just as the livestream was about to begin.
âIs this what itâs like before you go live?â Y/N asked, watching the members scramble to adjust cameras, lights, and snacks.
âAlways,â Jeonghan said with a smirk. âItâs controlled chaos.â
As the livestream began, fans flooded the chat with comments. The members introduced Y/N, and the reaction was overwhelmingly positive.
âY/Nâs here! OMG!â
âShe and Jihoon look so good together!â
âThe duet is my favorite song right now!â
Jihoon, who was reading the comments on his phone, shifted uncomfortably but managed a small smile. âThe fans seem happy,â he said quietly to Y/N.
âTheyâre so sweet,â Y/N replied, her eyes scanning the messages.
The members took turns asking her questions, each one more playful than the last.
âHoshi,â Y/N said, laughing, âwhy are you asking if Iâd join the Performance Team? I just told you Iâm not much of a dancer!â
âBecause we can teach you,â Hoshi replied with a dramatic flourish.
DK chimed in, âOr you can join the Vocal Team! We need more people who can hit those high notes.â
âDonât listen to them,â Minghao said. âYouâre a solo artist. Stay in your lane before they rope you into our madness.â
The banter continued until Seungkwan leaned into the camera and asked the question everyone wanted to know.
âSo, Y/N, howâs it working with Jihoon?â
The chat exploded with reactions.
Y/N glanced at Jihoon, who was clearly caught off guard but tried to mask it. She smiled. âHonestly? Itâs been amazing. Heâs a perfectionist, but in the best way. Iâve learned so much from him.â
Jihoon cleared his throat, his ears tinged pink. âSheâs talented, so it wasnât hard to work with her,â he said simply, earning exaggerated âoohsâ from the members.
As the livestream continued, Y/N fit right in with SEVENTEENâs dynamic, laughing and joking with them like sheâd known them for years. Fans in the chat began calling her an âhonorary 14th member,â a title that made her laugh but also secretly warmed Jihoonâs heart.
After the livestream ended, the members sprawled across the couch, tired but happy.
âYou handled that like a pro,â Mingyu said, tossing a cushion at Y/N.
âThanks,â Y/N replied, catching the cushion. âYou guys are a lot of fun. I can see why your fans love you so much.â
As the group began to disperse, Jihoon found himself alone with Y/N for the first time that evening.
âYou were great today,â he said, his voice softer than usual.
âThanks. I was a little nervous, but you all made it easy,â Y/N said, leaning against the back of the couch. âYour members are like family, huh?â
Jihoon nodded. âThey are. Itâs chaotic, but itâs⌠home.â
Y/N smiled. âI can tell. Youâre lucky to have that.â
There was a comfortable silence between them before Y/N added, âAnd thanks for letting me be part of all this. I didnât expect to be welcomed so warmly.â
Jihoon met her gaze, his usual stoicism softening. âYouâre part of it now. Whether you like it or not.â
Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine. âI think I like it.â
And for the first time in a long while, Jihoon felt like the walls heâd built around himself were no longer as important.
Over the next few weeks, Y/N continued to bond with SEVENTEEN. She found herself invited to more studio sessions, group meals, and even impromptu dance practices. Despite her initial hesitation about being in the spotlight alongside such a well-known group, their warmth made her feel at home.
Jihoon, on the other hand, started noticing the subtle ways Y/N was changing the dynamic around him. She wasnât just a collaborator anymore; she was becoming a friend. Someone who could pull him out of his creative tunnel and remind him to enjoy the little moments.
One day, after a long recording session, the group decided to hang out at their dorm. Y/N hesitated when Seungkwan invited her along.
âAre you sure? I donât want to intrude,â she said.
âYou? Intruding?â Seungkwan scoffed. âYouâre practically one of us now. Come on!â
When they arrived at the dorm, chaos quickly ensued. Mingyu was in the kitchen, trying to cook something âspecial,â while Hoshi and Dino argued over which choreography to show Y/N.
Jihoon sat on the couch, quietly observing the scene. Y/N was laughing with Jeonghan, who was undoubtedly up to some mischief. He couldnât help but smile to himself.
âYou like her, donât you?â Minghaoâs voice pulled Jihoon from his thoughts.
Jihoon turned to him, his expression unreadable. âWhat are you talking about?â
Minghao smirked. âYouâre not as subtle as you think. The way you look at herâitâs different.â
Jihoon sighed, leaning back against the couch. âSheâs⌠easy to be around. Thatâs all.â
âSure,â Minghao said, clearly unconvinced. âJust donât wait too long to figure it out.â
Later that evening, as everyone settled in for a movie, Jihoon found himself sitting next to Y/N. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of laughter and popcorn crunching filled the air.
Y/N leaned closer to whisper, âThanks for letting me hang out with you guys. I didnât expect this when we started working on the song.â
Jihoon glanced at her, the soft glow of the TV reflecting in her eyes. âYouâre not just here because of the song anymore. They like you. I⌠like having you around.â
Her eyes widened slightly at his admission, a soft smile forming on her lips. âI like being around you too, Jihoon.â
For a moment, the noise of the room faded, and it was just the two of them, sitting closer than either realized.
âJihoon! Pass the popcorn!â DKâs voice broke the moment, and Jihoon blinked, quickly grabbing the bowl to hand over.
Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. The warmth between them lingered, unspoken but undeniable.
As the weeks turned into months, their bond deepened. Whether it was through shared late-night studio sessions, casual dinners with the group, or quiet moments away from the chaos, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves drawn closer together.
And while neither of them said it out loud, they both knew that what had started as a simple duet had grown into something far more meaningful.
As time passed, Jihoon and Y/Nâs bond became increasingly apparent to everyone around them. The other members of SEVENTEEN had a field day teasing Jihoon about it, though they were careful not to push him too far. Y/N, on the other hand, took it all in stride, her easygoing nature making her a natural fit within the groupâs chaotic but loving dynamic.
One day, they found themselves in the studio late at night, working on a new song. The other members had already gone home, leaving just the two of them.
Y/N leaned over the desk, scrolling through the playlist Jihoon had prepared for inspiration. âThis oneâs good,â she said, pointing to a track.
Jihoon nodded, playing it without hesitation. The soft melody filled the room, and they both sat in comfortable silence, letting the music wash over them.
After a while, Y/N broke the quiet. âDo you ever think about what this all means? The music, the fans, everything we do?â
Jihoon looked at her, surprised by the sudden introspection. âAll the time,â he admitted. âItâs why I work so hard. I want it to mean somethingâto leave something behind that matters.â
She smiled softly. âYou already do. Your music touches so many people, Jihoon. Including me.â
He felt a warmth spread through him at her words. âWhat about you? What does it mean to you?â
Y/N took a moment to think before answering. âItâs about connection. Every lyric, every note⌠itâs a way to reach people, to let them know theyâre not alone. I think thatâs why I love working with you. You get that.â
For a moment, Jihoon was at a loss for words. Her sincerity, her opennessâit was something he wasnât used to but found himself drawn to.
âY/N,â he said, his voice quieter than usual. âI donât say this often, but⌠youâve changed the way I look at things. Working with youâitâs made me realize how much more music can be when itâs shared.â
She looked at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. âYou donât know how much that means to me, coming from you.â
They held each otherâs gaze for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. But before either of them could say more, Jihoonâs phone buzzed, breaking the moment.
The next morning, as they arrived at the practice room, the other members were already there. Hoshi immediately noticed the way Jihoon and Y/N seemed closer than usual.
âDid something happen last night?â he asked, his eyes darting between the two.
âNothing happened,â Jihoon replied quickly, his ears turning pink.
Y/N, however, laughed. âWe were just working on music. Donât let your imagination run wild.â
The members didnât buy it, but they let it goâfor now.
Later that week, the group had a fan meeting, and Y/N was invited as a special guest to perform their duet live for the first time since its release. The fans erupted into cheers as Jihoon and Y/N took the stage together, their voices blending seamlessly as they sang.
During the performance, Jihoon couldnât help but glance at Y/N, her presence radiating warmth and confidence. He realized that what had started as a professional partnership had grown into something far more personal.
After the performance, as they stood backstage, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes sparkling. âThat was incredible. Thank you for sharing this with me.â
Jihoon hesitated for a moment before replying. âThank you⌠for everything.â
Y/N smiled, her hand lightly brushing his arm. And in that moment, Jihoon knew that whatever this was between themâfriendship, partnership, or something moreâhe wasnât ready to let it go.
A few days after their fan meeting, the duet performance went viral. Clips of Jihoon and Y/N on stage, their undeniable chemistry and harmonies, flooded social media. Fans couldnât stop talking about how perfectly their voices blended and how natural their interactions seemed.
The buzz didnât go unnoticed by SEVENTEEN.
âHave you seen the comments?â Seungkwan said, shoving his phone in front of Jihoonâs face during a break in practice.
Jihoon glanced at the screen, where fans had flooded the comments section with messages like:
âTheyâre perfect together!â
âJihoon and Y/N need to release a whole album together!â
âAm I the only one who feels like thereâs more to their story?â
Jihoon sighed, pushing the phone away. âItâs just the fans. They like to speculate.â
âBut theyâre not wrong,â Mingyu chimed in with a sly grin.
âNot you too,â Jihoon groaned.
That evening, Y/N visited the dorm for what was supposed to be a casual hangout. As usual, the members couldnât help but stir the pot.
âSo, Y/N,â Jeonghan started, leaning casually against the couch, âwhatâs it like being the most shipped person with Jihoon right now?â
Y/N nearly choked on her drink. âExcuse me?â
âOh, you didnât know?â Hoshi said, joining in. âThe fans are calling you the âpower duo.â Some are even saying youâre a better fit than us!â
âDonât listen to them,â Jihoon muttered, his ears turning pink.
Y/N, recovering from her initial shock, laughed. âWell, I guess itâs a compliment? I mean, Jihoon is an incredible artist, so Iâm honored.â
The room erupted in exaggerated âoohs,â with Seungkwan dramatically fanning Jihoon. âDid you hear that? She called you incredible!â
Jihoon buried his face in his hands, muttering, âWhy do I even let you all talk?â
Despite the teasing, Jihoon couldnât help but feel a sense of pride at Y/Nâs words. She always had a way of making him feel seenânot just as an artist but as a person.
Later that night, after everyone had settled down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone on the dorm balcony, overlooking the city lights.
âItâs been a wild night, huh?â Y/N said, leaning against the railing.
Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the skyline. âYeah. I didnât expect any of this when we started working together.â
âMe neither,â she admitted. âBut Iâm glad it happened. Iâve learned so muchânot just about music but about myself.â
Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. âYouâve changed a lot of things for me, too. I didnât realize how much I needed someone to remind me why I love what I do.â
Y/N looked at him, her heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his voice. âJihoon⌠Iââ
Before she could finish, the balcony door slid open, and Mingyu stuck his head out. âHey, are you two having a moment? Because weâve got snacks inside.â
Y/N burst out laughing, while Jihoon groaned. âYou have the worst timing, Mingyu.â
Mingyu grinned. âThatâs what Iâm here for.â
As the night went on, the teasing and camaraderie continued, but something had shifted between Jihoon and Y/N. Though unspoken, there was an understanding growing between themâone that neither was ready to confront just yet but couldnât deny any longer.
And as Jihoon watched Y/N laughing with his members, he couldnât help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something heâd been searching for without even realizing it.
The weeks passed, and Jihoon found himself unable to shake the feeling that had been slowly growing inside him. Every time Y/N smiled, every time their eyes met during a quiet moment, something in his chest fluttered. He had always been someone who let his music speak for him, but this time, it wasnât enough just to express himself through lyrics. He needed to tell her, to be vulnerable in a way he hadnât been with anyone before.
But how?
It was during a late-night studio session, after everyone else had left for the day, that Jihoon decided to do something about it. He had spent hours working on the song, tweaking the melody, perfecting the lyrics, and now it was ready.
The track wasnât like anything he had made before. It was softer, more personal, and every note seemed to come straight from his heart. He had poured his feelings into it, capturing the emotions that he couldnât say out loud. It was a love song. And the subject of it? None other than Y/N.
The next day, Jihoon invited Y/N to the studio under the guise of working on new material. She arrived, always eager to help or collaborate, but there was something different about Jihoonâs demeanor that caught her attention.
âWhatâs going on?â she asked as she walked into the studio. âYouâve been acting a little⌠off lately.â
Jihoon avoided her gaze, fiddling with the soundboard for a moment. âI⌠I have something I want to play for you.â
Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious. âA new song?â
He nodded, his throat tightening slightly. âYeah. But itâs⌠different.â
Y/N walked over to him and sat down, her eyes fixed on him. âIâm all ears, Jihoon.â
Jihoon hesitated for a moment longer before hitting play. The soft, melodic intro filled the room, and Y/N was immediately drawn into the haunting beauty of the song. As the lyrics began, she felt a stirring in her chest. The song felt⌠personal. Deeply personal.
She listened intently, her heart racing as the chorus hit, and Jihoonâs voice filled the space:
âI didnât know how to say it, but now I know itâs true, Every moment with you feels like Iâve found something new. In the silence, in the music, in the things I never said, Iâm falling for you, Iâm falling for you, And I canât take it back.â
The song went on, each lyric pulling Y/N deeper into the emotions Jihoon had poured into it. By the end, the room was thick with the unspoken words hanging in the air. The music faded, and for a few moments, there was silence.
Y/N slowly turned to look at Jihoon, her eyes wide with realization. âJihoon⌠that songâŚâ
He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. âItâs for you.â
Y/Nâs breath caught in her throat. She had known there was something between them, something that had grown over time, but hearing him express it so clearly, through music, felt like a confession she hadnât expected.
âJihoonâŚâ she whispered, her voice trembling.
He finally met her gaze, his eyes vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. âIâve been trying to ignore it, trying to tell myself I was just⌠overthinking. But every time youâre near, every time you smile, it feels like something more. I think⌠I think Iâve fallen for you, Y/N. And I couldnât hide it anymore. Not after writing this song for you.â
Y/Nâs heart raced as she processed his words, her own emotions swirling within her. She had felt it tooâthe connection, the way everything felt more meaningful when they were together. But hearing him say it out loud made it all so real.
She took a step closer, her voice soft but steady. âIâve been feeling the same way, Jihoon.â
His eyes widened, and he took a step toward her as well. âReally?â
She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. âIâve been too afraid to admit it, but⌠Iâve been falling for you, too. Maybe I didnât want to admit it because I didnât know if you felt the same, but⌠Iâve never been more sure of anything.â
The tension that had built between them in the past few months suddenly lifted. Jihoon, overcome with relief and happiness, took her hand gently.
âThen⌠do you think we can figure this out together?â he asked softly.
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. âIâd like that very much.â
For a moment, neither of them said anything else. The weight of the confession hung in the air, but the silence felt comfortable, like a shared understanding.
Jihoon squeezed her hand gently. âI donât know what comes next, but I want to find out with you.â
Y/N nodded, her eyes shining. âMe too.â
And as they stood there, hand in hand, Jihoon knew that this song, the one that had started as a way to express his feelings, was just the beginning of a new chapter for them both.
For a few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N managed to keep their budding relationship under wraps. They werenât intentionally hiding it, but neither of them was ready to face the whirlwind of teasing that would inevitably come from SEVENTEEN.
However, secrets rarely lasted long in a group as close-knit and nosy as SEVENTEEN.
It all started during a practice session. Jihoon had left his phone on the bench while the group worked through choreography, and a text from Y/N popped up on the screen:
Y/N: Canât wait to see you tonight â¤ď¸
Seungkwan, ever the observant one, noticed the notification first. âOh? Hyung, care to explain this?â he asked, holding up the phone with a mischievous grin.
Jihoon froze mid-step, his face instantly turning crimson. âGive me that!â he snapped, rushing over to grab the phone.
But it was too late. Seungkwan had already shared the discovery with Hoshi and Jeonghan, who were now looking at Jihoon with matching expressions of glee.
ââCanât wait to see you tonight?ââ Jeonghan teased, his tone dripping with mock innocence. âJihoon, do you have plans we should know about?â
The rest of the group quickly caught on, gathering around as Jihoon struggled to come up with an excuse.
âItâs nothing,â he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket.
âNothing?â Hoshi said, raising an eyebrow. âSounds like something to me.â
âItâs Y/N, isnât it?â Mingyu blurted out. The room went silent for a moment as everyone processed the possibility.
Jihoon sighed, realizing there was no escape. âFine. Yes. Itâs Y/N. Weâre⌠dating.â
The room erupted into chaos.
âWhat?!â Seungkwan exclaimed, looking both shocked and delighted. âWhen did this happen?â
âJihoon, you sly fox!â Jeonghan said, clapping him on the back.
âYouâre dating Y/N, and you didnât tell us?â Dino pouted. âI thought we were close!â
Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. âI didnât want to make a big deal out of it, okay? Itâs still new, and we didnât want any unnecessary attention.â
Joshua, ever the voice of reason, stepped in. âGuys, letâs not overwhelm him. Itâs Jihoon, after all. This mustâve taken a lot for him to admit.â
âYeah,â DK added, grinning. âBut seriously, Hyung, weâre happy for you. Y/Nâs great.â
âSheâs not just great,â Minghao said thoughtfully. âShe fits in with us, and most importantly, she brings out a side of you we donât see often. Itâs nice.â
Jihoon looked around at his members, their teasing replaced with genuine support, and felt a wave of relief. âThanks, guys. Just⌠keep it low-key, okay? Weâre not ready for everyone to know yet.â
The group collectively agreed, though Jihoon wasnât sure he trusted their definition of âlow-key.â
That evening, Jihoon met Y/N at their usual spot in the studio. She could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.
âWhat happened?â she asked, tilting her head.
âThey know,â Jihoon said, sitting beside her.
âWho knows?â
âSEVENTEEN,â he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
Y/Nâs eyes widened. âOh no. How bad was it?â
Jihoon chuckled despite himself. âAbout as chaotic as youâd expect. But⌠theyâre happy for us. They promised to keep it a secret, though I donât know how long thatâll last.â
Y/N smiled, reaching over to take his hand. âWell, I guess it was bound to happen. Theyâre your family, Jihoon. And honestly, I donât mind if they know. I like being part of your world.â
Jihoon squeezed her hand, his heart swelling at her words. âYouâre more than just part of it, Y/N. Youâve made it better.â
The next day, when Y/N visited the dorm for dinner, the teasing resumed, but it was all in good fun.
âSo, Y/N,â Jeonghan said with a sly smile, âwhatâs it like dating our Jihoon? Is he as romantic as he is in his songs?â
Y/N laughed, glancing at Jihoon, who looked like he wanted to disappear. âHeâs perfect,â she said simply, her sincerity making Jihoonâs face flush even more.
The room erupted into cheers and playful jabs, but beneath the chaos, there was a palpable warmth. SEVENTEEN was more than a groupâthey were a family. And now, Y/N was part of that family, too.
As the night wore on, Jihoon couldnât help but feel grateful. For his members, for their unwavering support, and most of all, for Y/N, who had somehow become the piece he hadnât realized was missing from his life.
A few weeks after SEVENTEENâs comeback promotions wrapped up, Jihoon surprised fans with the announcement of a solo track, titled âOnly for You.â The anticipation was palpable, especially after fans connected the dots between the mysterious teasers and Jihoonâs recent duet with Y/N.
When the song finally dropped, it was an instant hit. A tender and emotional ballad, the lyrics told the story of someone realizing theyâve found the one person who completes them. Jihoonâs heartfelt delivery struck a chord with listeners, but eagle-eyed fans noticed something peculiar.
The release coincided with a few subtle interactions between Jihoon and Y/N on social media. Comments like:
âThis song feels so personal⌠is it inspired by someone special?â
âThe vibe reminds me of Jihoon and Y/Nâs duet. Are we missing something?â
âWait a second⌠some of these lyrics feel like they match things Y/N said in interviews!â
The speculation ramped up a notch when, only a few days later, Y/N teased her own solo track, âEcho of You.â
When Y/Nâs song dropped, fans were quick to notice that it felt like a reply to Jihoonâs. While Jihoonâs track spoke of falling for someone who brought light into his life, Y/Nâs lyrics told the story of being seen and loved for who she truly was.
Lines like:
âI thought I was just a shadow, but your light made me shine.â
âEvery melody you wrote felt like a message just for me.â
Fans flooded social media with theories.
âWait, these songs feel connected. Are they⌠about each other?â
âWoozi's âOnly for Youâ and Y/Nâs âEcho of Youâ are like two sides of the same love story.â
âIf this is real, Iâll cry. Theyâre perfect together!â
The speculation reached its peak when a fan-made mashup of the two songs went viral, seamlessly blending the tracks into a duet that felt like it was meant to be.
Back at SEVENTEENâs dorm, the members couldnât help but join the buzz.
âSo,â Seungkwan started, holding up his phone, âthe fans are catching on.â
Jihoon groaned, slumping onto the couch. âI knew this would happen.â
âI mean, theyâre not wrong,â Jeonghan said, smirking. âThe songs do sound like theyâre talking to each other.â
Y/N, who had been invited over for dinner, sat beside Jihoon, trying (and failing) to suppress her laughter. âItâs kind of impressive how quickly they picked up on it.â
Joshua leaned forward, grinning. âAre you two going to say anything? Or just let the fans go wild with their theories?â
Jihoon glanced at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. âWhat do you think?â he asked her.
Y/N smiled softly. âI donât mind letting them wonder for now. I like that the songs are just ours, even if people are curious.â
The members all groaned in mock frustration.
âYouâre both too private for your own good,â Mingyu teased. âJust admit it already and save us the headache!â
âAdmit what?â Jihoon shot back, feigning innocence.
âThat you two are the main characters in the greatest musical love story ever told,â Hoshi declared dramatically, earning laughter from the group.
Despite the teasing, Jihoon and Y/N decided to keep quiet, letting their music speak for them. The buzz around their songs only grew, with both tracks climbing the charts and becoming fan favorites.
During a live Q&A, Jihoon was inevitably asked about the inspiration for âOnly for You.â
âItâs about someone who changed the way I see the world,â he said simply, his expression soft.
When Y/N was asked a similar question about âEcho of You,â she smiled knowingly. âItâs a song about gratitude and loveâfor someone who helped me realize my worth.â
The fans didnât need anything more. To them, the connection between the songsâand their creatorsâwas obvious.
One evening, as they sat together in Jihoonâs studio, Y/N turned to him with a playful smile. âSo, do you think theyâve figured it out yet?â
Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. âI think they know. Theyâre just waiting for us to say it out loud.â
âAnd when do you think we should?â she asked, tilting her head.
Jihoon thought for a moment before replying, his voice warm. âMaybe someday. But for now, I like that the songs tell our story. It feels⌠special.â
Y/N leaned closer, her hand resting on his. âI like that too.â
The weeks following the dual song releases were a whirlwind. Both tracks dominated the charts, and the fan theories only grew more elaborate. Mashups, fan edits, and endless analysis filled the internet, with fans piecing together subtle interactions and shared moments.
Despite their best efforts to stay under the radar, the buzz became too loud to ignore. SEVENTEENâs members didnât make it any easier, constantly dropping playful hints during interviews and live streams.
One day, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves at a joint event where multiple HYBE artists were present. It was a casual, live-streamed Q&A session, and the energy in the room was lively. Fans flooded the chat with questions about collaborations, their music, and, of course, the connection between Jihoonâs and Y/Nâs songs.
The host, clearly aware of the buzz, decided to address the elephant in the room.
âSo, Woozi-shi and Y/N-shi,â they began, a mischievous glint in their eye. âThe fans have been talking nonstop about how your songs seem⌠connected. Care to comment?â
Jihoon, caught off guard, glanced at Y/N. She met his gaze with a small, encouraging smile, her eyes silently asking, Are you ready?
He hesitated for a moment before leaning into the mic. âWell,â he started, his voice calm but tinged with nervousness, âthe fans arenât wrong. The songs are connected.â
The room fell silent for a moment, everyoneâincluding the other artistsâhanging on his every word.
Y/N chimed in, her tone light but honest. âWe didnât plan for it to be a big mystery. We just wrote from our hearts. And, well⌠our hearts were in the same place.â
The hostâs eyes widened in realization. âWait, are you sayingââ
Jihoon nodded, cutting them off gently. âY/N and I⌠weâre together. And the songs were our way of telling that story without saying it outright.â
The room erupted into applause, cheers, and a few playful whistles from SEVENTEEN and the other HYBE artists. The fans watching the live stream went wild, the chat filling with messages like:
âI KNEW IT!â
âThis is the best plot twist ever!â
âOur musical power couple!â
Later that evening, Jihoon and Y/N sat together backstage, scrolling through the flood of messages on social media.
âLooks like the fans are taking it well,â Y/N said, laughing as she read a particularly enthusiastic comment.
Jihoon smiled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. âI guess I shouldnât have worried so much. They seem⌠happy for us.â
Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. âOf course they are. Weâve been honest in the best way we know howâthrough our music.â
Jihoon wrapped an arm around her, his voice soft. âIâm glad we finally said it. It feels good not to hide anymore.â
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. âMe too.â
As the weeks passed, their relationship became a beloved story among fans. Jihoon and Y/N didnât share much beyond their music and occasional glimpses of their dynamic, but their authenticity resonated with everyone.
Their next collaborationâa duet explicitly written as a continuation of their storyâbecame one of the most anticipated releases of the year, cementing their status as not just two incredible artists but as a couple who had found love in the heart of their shared passion.
And as Jihoon often said in interviews, with a small, knowing smile: âIt all started with a song.â
The announcement of Jihoon and Y/Nâs relationship didnât just excite fans; it gave SEVENTEEN endless new material to tease their usually reserved member. And, of course, they werenât going to let the opportunity go to waste during their next content shoot.
The group was filming an episode of their popular variety show, âGOING SEVENTEEN,â and the theme for the day was a mock courtroom trial where members had to defend themselves against outrageous (and often ridiculous) accusations.
As the camera rolled, Jeonghan smirked, ready to unleash chaos. âToday, I bring a serious accusation against Jihoon,â he began, standing dramatically as the self-appointed prosecutor.
Jihoon, sitting at the âdefendantâsâ table, raised an eyebrow. âWhat now?â
Jeonghan held up an imaginary piece of paper, squinting at it for effect. âJihoon, youâve been accused of⌠secretly writing love songs instead of working on group projects. How do you plead?â
The room erupted in laughter, with Seungkwan clapping his hands. âGuilty! We all know itâs true!â
Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. âIs this really necessary?â
âYes!â Hoshi chimed in, his grin practically splitting his face. âWeâve all noticed you humming random melodies lately. Are those for us, or⌠someone else?â
The teasing didnât stop there. As the trial continued, the members took turns âpresenting evidence.â
Mingyu dramatically placed a notebook on the table. âExhibit A: Jihoonâs lyric book. Do we need to open it to find the word âY/Nâ written a hundred times?â
Dino jumped in, mimicking an investigator. âExhibit B: The way Jihoon smiles at his phone during breaks. Suspicious behavior if you ask me.â
Even the usually quiet Wonwoo joined in. âExhibit C: The recent duet with Y/N. We all heard it. Itâs basically a confession set to music.â
By this point, Jihoonâs face was a deep shade of red, though he couldnât help but chuckle.
During a break in filming, Joshua leaned over to Jihoon. âYou know, theyâre only teasing because theyâre happy for you, right?â
âI know,â Jihoon replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. âBut theyâre relentless.â
âHey, itâs good content,â Joshua said with a wink. âThe fans will love it.â
Later in the shoot, the tables turned when it was Jihoonâs chance to act as the judge. He banged the gavel dramatically. âI have an accusation of my own,â he announced, his tone firm but playful.
The members gasped in mock horror.
âI accuse SEVENTEEN of being the nosiest group in the industry,â Jihoon declared, pointing at them one by one. âAlways prying, always teasing. How do you plead?â
âGuilty!â Seungkwan shouted, raising his hands in surrender. âBut we do it out of love!â
Hoshi stood up, grinning. âYour Honor, Iâd like to counter-accuse. Jihoon is guilty of smiling more these days. We all know the reason why.â
The room burst into laughter once again, and Jihoon couldnât help but shake his head, a reluctant smile on his face.
As the shoot wrapped up, the director praised the group for their energy and humor. The episode, once edited, was full of golden moments that had fans laughing and cooing over SEVENTEENâs antics.
And while Jihoon might have been the butt of the jokes, the camaraderie and genuine affection from his members shone through.
In the comments section of the uploaded episode, fans were quick to notice the playful dynamic:
âSEVENTEEN teasing Jihoon about Y/N is peak family energy!â
âJihoon trying to act annoyed but secretly loving it is so cute.â
âThe way they all support him in their own chaotic way makes me emotional.â
That evening, as Jihoon returned to his studio, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N:
Y/N: Saw the episode preview. Theyâre so obvious, lol.
Jihoon smiled, typing back:
Jihoon: Theyâre impossible. But at least theyâre on our side.
Y/N: Always. And so am I.
As he leaned back in his chair, Jihoon couldnât help but feel gratefulânot just for Y/N, but for the family heâd found in SEVENTEEN.
Even if they never let him live it down.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen woozi#seventeen jihoon#woozi fluff#woozi imagines#woozi smut#woozi imagine#woozi x reader#woozi oneshot#woozi au#jihoon fluff#jihoon x reader#jihoon smut
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hii, I just saw that you have open requests ^^Can I ask for a lighter x reader who has the personality or is similar to Clorinde đđđđ I beg you. I hope it goes well for you đđđSorry if there are any spelling mistakes because I lost my glasses.
Hellooo, ofc I can !! Also your spelling is perfectly fine <3
Lighter x s/o with a personality similar to clorindes ăťââ§âá˘. ĚŤ.á˘â
⧠content: headcannon format , fluff , confessioning love , pre-relationship and current relationship.
Safe for minors to read !!
⧠I feel like his serious but also unserious mood would be a refresher for you , also helping you become more comfortable around him. For example , if you're dealing with something stressful , he'd be the type to try to keep you out of the house and even if it's just to hang out with Lucy or ceaser knowing your not alone makes him feel better.
⧠he'd definitely fall for you first. your strong and stoic front you put on is so intriguing to him because he's a serious person when he wants to be , but the fact he's NEVER seen you break that serious personality apart from a couple chuckles or when your trying to make Lucy feel better about something silly , it makes him want get closer to you. He also finds you badass as fuck but he'd never say it.
⧠when you finally realise you somehow like this man , you considered a complete and utter idiot. You're in complete denial , like how could I fall for HIM type thing.
⧠he is the one to confess 100% . He was confident , but he never thought you'd actually say yes to him. He was expecting you to stare at him like he was a creature from the hallow , so when you said yes he was actually taken aback by your word's , he totally hit you with a " yeah thats cool... cool " while he's internally screaming , before thinking about telling caesar and the others about it. He is a girl dad at heart ok.
⧠it might not be your cup of tea going out to his fights , but PLEASE do it at least once , this man will be yours for life if you do. Even if you sit there looking uninterested as normal because you finally gave into his begs, he'd be over the moon totally, not because you finally gave into going. He'd try to catch your attention by winking at you when you'd look his way , or if he was feeling extra like a little bitch he'd blow you a kiss being met by ur disappointed eye roll never got boring for him. When you find him afterwards dragging him home, he'd hit you with a " c'mon it wasn't that bad darlin " with that classic smirk on his face... let's just say he got a bonk on the head for that one.
⧠he sometimes found it hard to understand your emotions because of how closed off you could be. He would go to one of the girls about it and ask them what he should do , this man is a dumbass when it comes to love sometimes. He'd always be told to just go to you about it , so after a while , he gave in and went to you. It wasn't easy at first getting you to open up for him , but when you did , it made your relationship a lot better.
⧠at first, if anyone tried to hit on you, he'd be instantly at their throats, but there was one time he was grabbing something to drink while you sat and waited. He came back to a guy walking away uncomfortably looking like he was about to burst into tears , " What's up with him, huh ? " he chuckled , sliding you your drink. " he tried to hit on me, so I told him it straight. I wasn't interested. " You shrugged , " you don't say, " he replied. Ever since then , if someone hit on you he just let you give them that resting bitch face that made men run for the hills. Most men apart from him , personally found any face you pulled stunning .
⧠so , in summary you both have your Flaws mainly with communication , but you both try your best and that's all that matters <3
This is my first time writing lighter so sorry if he's abit out of character !! This request was really fun because I love clorinde
#zenless zone zero#zzz#zzz x reader#zenless zone zero x reader#lighter#lighter x reader#lighter x reader fluff
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