#lit just came here only to post this

[utsugyo]

/ danna for u

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,�� he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

��I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[chuluoyi]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

[too-deviant]

strategic manoeuvre.

— WITH…ART DONALDSON!

contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios

You had never been interested in tennis before Art. 

You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else. 

But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway. 

You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire. 

Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis. 

It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks. 

You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa. 

“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for. 

Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning. 

(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).

It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits. 

“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”

We she’d said. As in her and Art. 

You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel. 

From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation. 

The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in. 

It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out. 

You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready. 

You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together. 

He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her. 

But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left. 

But.

But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back. 

You were evil. Truly. The guy was married. 

But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave. 

The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.

(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).

But tonight was different. In more ways than one. 

In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned. 

You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night. 

Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”

He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”

“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble. 

He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”

You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.” 

Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.  

The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out. 

Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing. 

“Lily likes you.”

You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.” 

“Tashi likes you.” 

You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths. 

“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”

“What?”

“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?” 

“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.” 

“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.” 

“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.” 

He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it. 

The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car. 

But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal. 

“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”

Out of all the things… 

“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards. 

“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”

“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now. 

He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face. 

“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”

“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth. 

He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you. 

You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes. 

“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning. 

Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”

Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”

He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far. 

You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own. 

His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair. 

When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches. 

You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it. 

Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared. 

You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up. 

Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours. 

“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.” 

(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).

divider by @cafekitsune !!

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

[blkkizzat]

❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' dispensary series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): you can't stop fucking your drug dealer with the big dick but you can't let your reputation be ruined by actually dating him—he'll just have to deal with it—or is it that he will end up dealing with you? ⋙ side effects (tw): cunnilingus, car sex, backshots, riding, dick sucking, sex for drugs, slut reader, reader being a huge bitch lmfao. slightly black girl coded but no descriptors. this is just p1 tw, p2 will have its own lol. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 3.9k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. had to split it up into two parts because i wanted to post on time for 420. barely made it lol!

Plug!Choso who you walked all the way across campus to meet, nervously waiting in the almost always empty parking garage underground level. You don’t even really smoke weed but sorority elections are coming up soon and if you can be the “cool one” to get everyone lit on 420 (as your last plug recently got busted) you could secure a lot more votes. Sure, you were going to an extreme length to win but the last 4 generations of your family have been president of this chapter at your university. You didn't think your mother would even let you back in the house this summer if you didn’t win. So reluctantly, here you are. 

Plug!Choso who when he finally pulls up intimidates you with his looks when he rolls down his window as he’s all dark hair, piercings and tattoos. You want to just do the transaction through the window but he tells you to “get in”. You were a new customer and he had to vet you first to make sure you “weren’t 12.”

Plug!Choso who laughs in your face when you angrily slam the door taking offense and yelling at him if he ‘that regardless of your baby face he was fucking blind if he really thought you looked like a 12 year old.’ You turn up your nose at him but quickly are made to feel like an idiot when he clarifies he meant 12 as in the cops. You blush even harder when he says ‘he’d never mistake anyone with tits like yours for being that young.’

Plug!Choso who you only end up hooking up with because your sorority sisters short changed you. How the hell were you supposed to know an ounce was $250!? You ask if he could let you have a deal at $150 as that's what your old dealer Mahito sold it for before he got busted.

“S’cause his shit was weak, princess. Shouldn’ve even been payin’ that much to be real with you. This is that dank shit and if you want it you gotta pay. I ain’t running a charity.”

You ask if you can pay via venmo, cash app, anything but Choso only takes cash.

Panicking as you did not have $100 extra bucks in cash it’s you who suggests if you could you pay it off in a different way. 

Plug!Choso isn’t one to get sexual favors for weed as he had bills to pay and a baby brother to take care of, but your cute prissy ass reminds him so much of girls from his high school. The ones who’d only ever looked at him back then with disdain. Who came from stable families, were spoiled rotten and thought anyone who didn’t live their perfect cookie cutter life was trash. Choso wasn’t a virgin but he’d lived a damn near celibate life for the last few years, he could use a little stress release from a lil’ snobby thing like you.

Plug!Choso who you only agreed to give a handjob to and you unbuckled the belt on his tattered black jeans as he sits back and lights a joint. You roll your eyes and steel your nerves with a breath as you pull down his boxers. However the sight of his freed cock immediately has your inner slut going crazy. 

How is it that you can’t fit your pink manicured nails completely around his thick shaft?  

Why did his dick have to be so pretty fully erect, red tip throbbing as he pusles in your hand when you tease his frenulum with the pad of your finger? 

And just what's gotten into you now? It's shameful how you're rubbing your thighs together just from seeing him throw his head back while biting his lip to keep from whimpering. You have his sculpted hard abs trembling from you flicking over the bent barbell of his prince albert piercing. 

The silver reflected even in the dim garage lighting as his thick pre collected in drops on the ball of the piercing before dribbling down your hand. You unconsciously wet your lips. You know you only said a hand job but you wanted a taste—badly.

It isn’t long before you are giving into your cravings and talking him fully into your mouth needing a taste of him and forcibly gagging around his girth curious to see how much his cock could have you choking. 

Plug!Choso’s eyes flew open and he almost dropped his joint once he felt the hot n’ slick wetness of your velvety tongue slurping up the pre leaking off his piercing and taking him fully into your throat until he was hitting tonsils. 

Yet it’s because you are the massive slut that you are, it’s an even shorter amount of time before you pop him out of your mouth, lift your skirt and slide your panties to the side in order to bounce on him raw in the driver's seat. He makes you cum so hard your squirt splashes to drench his pants and even hits his dashboard and steering wheel. He reluctantly has to lift you off him at the last minute so he doesn’t come inside, further soiling you and his car. Choso doesn’t mind though as seeing you getting that messy for him made him hard all over again— and he pulls you into the backseat for round 2 which consists of you face-down ass-up getting the backshots of your fucking life.

Plug!Choso who you quickly start secretly hooking up with on the regular. Seeing as everyone loves how hard his shit hits they send you more frequently to pick it up. You pretend like it's a minor inconvenience but your stomach clinches in anticipation thinking of his fat cock inside of you. Of course, you aren’t disclosing to your sorority sisters how his dick hits even harder than his than his weed. You shiver just thinking of it carving through your guts ruthlessly every time you fuck. 

Plug!Choso who you are now secretly texting ‘cowboy’ and ‘eggplant’ emoji whenever you want your doonies beat down— regardless if you are getting weed from him or not that day. However when you are sent to get weed from him, he isn’t even charging you any longer. He tells you to keep it and get a new full set. You always manage to fuck up your acrylics bad when you are with him. Not your fault he fucks you so good you are desperate in the moment to cling to him, the handles, the dashboard— whatever you could get your hands on to grip to keep from loosing your mind as you always end up fucked absolutely dumb. 

Plug!Choso who you end up low-key dating but you are still a huge bitch to him in public. Acting like you don't know who he is when you see him. Tsk, you were just begging for him this morning to meet you in the ‘usual spot’ in the near abandoned campus garage lot so he could fuck you. You treated him like he was dirt beneath your shoe whenever you’d see him even though you’d be crying on his cock beneath him just a few hours prior. Choso thinks it’s disrespectful and annoying as fuck but he just deals with it. It's not like he's caught feelings or anything yet.

Plug!Choso who puts up with your shitty attitude and being your dirty little secret as you are the best— and only pussy— he’s had in a while. Not to mention you are always super sweet to his brother Yuji, who adores you. Choso didn’t intend to ever have you meet him but he ended up having Yuji with him one day. He had to pick him up out of the blue as an emergency near the same time he was supposed to pick you up from the nail salon. 

Although you had even got a fresh wax at the salon and were ready to show it off, finding Yuji, all of 7 years old, in the backseat was an immediate buzz kill. Initially expecting Choso to tell you that’s his kid, a pang of guilt ran through you when he explained his little brother who he takes care of got sick at school and needed to be picked up right away. You weren’t answering his calls or texts and he didn’t want to leave you hanging without a ride. 

You don’t tell Choso you’ve silenced notifications from him (in case one of your sisters were to see his name popup). Instead, you offer to cook Yuji soup when you learn it's only Choso solely taking care of Yuji. Especially after Choso confesses he was just going to pick up a can of chicken noodle and some crackers from the store. 

Heart fluttering at how gentle you are with Yuji in contrast to your usual demanding and bitchy nature, Choso curses at himself that he might be falling in love with you. Although he is well aware his feelings would never be reciprocated by you. Nevertheless, as a ‘thank you’ for dinner, after putting Yuji to bed Choso eats you out for 2-hours straight on the sofa. You end up having to stuff your soggy panties in your mouth to keep your cries in and not wake up Yuji. The way Choso is sloppily munching on your pussy has you cumming deliciously back to back to back on his thick pliable tongue. 

Plug!Choso who after you end up fucking more at his house, a mile or so away from campus, rather than his car these days. In fact, it isn’t even all about sex anymore as you spend the majority of your time over there helping Yuji with his homework, baking cookies, playing games and movie nights with the two of them. 

Once Yuji would go to bed Choso would bring you to the basement to smoke you out before he fucked you out. It’s during one of these smoke sessions though you learn that Choso actually got a full ride scholarship to go to the same university you do now 5 years ago but one quarter into his first year his parents had both died in a tragic accident. Yuji was only 2 then and the thought of losing the only family he had left to foster care was not an option for Choso. When the time came he stepped up to the plate and didn’t think twice about dropping out. 

However fast food jobs and grocery store shifts weren’t cutting it. He’d have to spend nearly all day and night away from Yuji just to keep a roof over his head to afford his late-parent’s mortgage. Dealing, although dangerous, was the best option and being the actual genius Choso was, he was smart about it. More guilt fills you always assumed anyone slanging drugs on the street was a burnout who couldn’t cut the real responsibilities of life. Yet Choso already had way more responsibility than anyone his age should have had.

You had sorely misjudged him.

Plug!Choso who realizes sooner than you do the closer the two of you become the harder it is for you to juggle Sorority life and Choso and Yuji— it’s almost as if you are living a double life. Truthfully you are, in a way as you are always sneaking off. Choso wonders what lies you tell your sorority sisters to be gone most weeknight evenings and weekend mornings. The lies of ‘labs' or ‘volunteer work’ wouldn’t likely cut it much longer. When you’re not around, Choso reasons he should probably cut things off with you before the inevitable fall out happens. But he always reconsiders when Yuji kept consistently inquiring as to where his ‘pretty lady girlfriend is’.  

Choso doesn’t have the heart to tell Yuji you aren’t his girlfriend yet. 

Plug!Choso who starts inviting you to Yuji’s little league games on weekends once Yuji expresses with abundant enthusiasm he wants you to see him play! The little guy, who is not so little for his age, is actually pretty athletic. Adorably every home run he hits he always makes sure to wave to you and Choso in the stands. Grinning widely Yuji blushes at your praise and cheering for him, which makes you just want to cheer harder. Your high school cheerleading experience finally coming in handy again. You go so often that sometimes other parents mistake the two of you for Yuji’s mom and dad. You always hastily respond “I’m just a family friend!”

A family friend. Not Choso's girlfriend. 

Plug!Choso whose jaw clenches whenever this happens— not that you ever notice. What the fuck were you doing if you weren’t dating? Yet Choso knew he couldn’t be completely mad at you as even after 3 months he still hadn’t technically asked you to be his girlfriend. Still that fact angers Choso too as he knows he hasn’t because he fears— no he knows— you wouldn’t say yes. Choso picks you up and drops you off blocks away from campus. You also managed to deflect every suggestion for going out on an actual date night on the town when Yuji is over his friend's Megumi or Nobara houses. Also you sure as shit don’t invite him to the many greek life parties you attend (not that he even wanted to go— I mean he would for you. If you'd ask him). Hell, you don’t even follow him back on IG and he knows better than to like or comment on anything other than your stories which goes straight to your DMs. 

Plug!Choso knows you have a reputation to protect and how it would look for the tall n’ scary pierced n' tatted emo drug dealer to be the one by your side. Choso eventually resigns himself to live in the shadows of your life for now. Choso would just have to work harder to pay off the house so he could stop dealing and be someone you’d want to show off (even if deep down he feels he will never be good enough).

However this all comes to a boil a few weeks later the morning of the championship game for Yuji’s little league. As their star player Yuji was so excited to be in his first championship and made you pinky promise you would come. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo!” You lovingly beamed at him. 

But you lied.

You did miss it. 

Finals and the sorority election week had come up fast out of nowhere and hit you like a whirlwind. As a result you saw little of Choso and Yuji in the days leading up to it. Yet at the end of the week you emerged victorious, both in keeping up your 3.8 GPA and winning the election for sorority president. You were so ecstatic on both accounts that you partied hard the night before Yuji’s big game.

Coincidentally forgetting about it entirely as the next morning was the Annual Greek Council Brunch event to officially inaugurate all new Greek council members across all sororities and frats. As newly elected president and since your sorority was hosting this year it was your job to throw it. It was a huge event that even parents and chapter alumni attended. 

Plug!Choso who smoked 3 cigarettes as he waited for you for nearly 40 minutes before he knew he had to leave soon or he’d miss the start of the game too. Deciding to drive by your sorority as a last ditch effort Choso sees red when he spies you on the lawn giggling and flirting with the campus caterers as you direct them to the back of the house. You looked gorgeous, all dolled up, hair done and make-up flawless. The dress you wear looks expensive, something he might even be able to afford to buy you if he wasn’t making triple mortgage payments each month to cut the interest and pay off his home faster. However, he can't deny the baby blue checkered fabric looks great on you. A fact Choso notices the caterer douchebags didn’t miss either as they fall a few steps behind you to check out your plump ass and rib at each other.

Plug!Choso who knows the reasonable thing to do would be to just drive away and avoid any conflict. Although before his mind registers it his body is already flicking his cigarette butt out of the open car door before slamming it shut as he storms across the lawn of your sorority house. Reaching the back of the house Choso was taken back by how grand everything looked. A sea of pristine white tables adorned with arrays of bouquets, fine china and crystal glasses that sparkled divinely in the morning sun. The event was still in setup mode so more flowers, decorations and adornments were being brought in by the second by workers brushing past Choso like he wasn't even there.

In any other scenario a grand display of refinery such as this would have Choso feeling self-conscious and out of place. He is aware as good as anyone else how sorely his dark looks contrast with the peppy and airy vibes of greek life.

However, all that flees out of his mind as soon as he sees you near the DJ booth—now having the nerve to shamelessly flirt with him too. 

“Yo, princess.”

Plug!Choso who seems casual from his tone but the look on his face is anything but. You on the other hand looked as if you had seen a ghost as all the color drains from your face. 

“Choso!”

You squeaked out a greeting as your head whips around to see who all was around.

Phew! Thankfully it was mostly staff and the greek members who were helping with setup were still inside.

But what the fuck was Choso even doing here?

You started to get pissed as he knew better than to roll up on you like this and today of all days!? 

“Come on, let’s go, we're gonna be late.”

He grabs your arm which you quickly snatch back from him giving him an incredulous look as if he just sprouted two more heads.

“What the fuck Choso, you can’t just barge in here like this! Have you lost your mind?! What are you even doing here?!” 

You try to keep your voice hushed as you pull him to the side of the DJ booth trying not to draw attention. 

“Nah princess, the question is what the fuck are you doing here?”

Irritation was dripping from Choso’s words who clearly didn’t give a single fuck about how loud he was being or the boundaries you’d set around your school life and it made your blood boil. He knew this was a busy week for you and you wouldn’t be around as much, he couldn’t wait a few more days!?

What right did he have to be here right now?

Let alone be this upset with you? 

You roll your eyes as you scoff. 

“Well as I am the newly elected president of this sorority it's my job to throw this brunch! I’ve had a really long stressful week and this is a really big event for me. My first event even! I have so much–”

“—Fuck! Are you really this clueless?!”

Choso angrily snaps at you and you are visibly startled into silence as his interruption immediately shuts you up.

He’s towering over you now and you’ve never realized before just how much bigger than you he was. His personality was usually so chill and unassuming that it shrunk his overall presence.

Come to think of it you’ve never even seen him angry before, annoyed sure, but he was clearly mad mad now.

“I– Me– My— Goddamn it, do you really think of no one but yourself?!”

The DJ, who had been overhearing your conversation tries to butt-in to white knight for you but is quickly told off by Choso who tells him ‘walk the fuck on while he still had legs that could walk’. The advice which was expeditiously taken as the DJ quickly left the conversation just as fast as he’d entered it.

“Choso– what the—”

Choso doesn’t let you finish, cutting you off again.

Fed up with this, you and whatever twisted situationship you currently had— he needed to say his piece. 

“—I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour, princess. Does your self absorbed lil’ brain even remember why?”

Your own anger is quickly dissipating into confusion as you cannot fathom what in the hell Choso was even talking about. It takes you a few good moments but your eyes widen once you realize.

Oh shit…

“Umm…Y-Yuji’s big game, isn’t today– is it?”

You meekly asked but you already knew the answer. 

“Bingo, princess! You’d promised him you’d be there. Do you know how much he’s been looking forward to this? It’s all he’s been talking about. Do you know how crushed he’s going to be if you aren’t there?!”

Shit! Shit! Shit!

You knew balancing seeing Choso and Yuji with your increasingly demanding school life was starting to get more challenging but you didn’t realize you’d fuck up this badly.

You really didn’t want to disappoint Yuji, who at this point felt like your own little brother that you never had —but you’d be prepping for this sorority presidency nearly your entire life! 

Your parents were even coming to this! 

Shit, which reminds you Choso cannot be here when they show up. 

Plug!Choso who knows he’ll have to speed now when he leaves if he wants to make the first pitch of Yuji’s game and makes one last ditch effort to get you to attend, but of course it fails.

“Choso, I– I can’t. I want to... but you know how important this is to me. My family. They will be here soon too I—”

Choso tunes out the rest of your excuses as your mention of ‘my family’ had cut unintentionally deep.

You’d gotten so close to him and Yuji that you did feel like ‘their family’. But you weren’t and it was the foolish hope that you could one day become that Choso selfishly indulged in.

He could deal with the hurt, he was used to life shitting on him but it wasn’t fair to Yuji. 

“There he is! That’s him!”

The pussy ass DJ had gone and gotten back up as a group of frat guys in suits rushed over. The commotion was also drawing a few of your sorority sisters and you curse under your breath as a small crowd forms and all eyes draw to you.

“It’s okay guys, he’s clearly lost and is leaving now, right?”

Your voice is bitchy but your eyes are pleading with Choso.

You're pleading with Choso: Not to ruin the event.

Not to be angry with you.

And not to make this situation any worse than what it was. 

“Wait— this guy? He’s that burnout dealer, yeah?”

One of the frat guys chime-in and there's laughter and giggles around.

“Oh my god, it is! He's like so obsessed with her. I always see him creeping around.”

One of your sisters adds with a sneer.

“Not a stalker! Ew!” 

Another one adds.

“What does this weirdo even want with you!?”

More of your sisters chime in.

Choso doesn’t care though.

He only cares what you think. What you’re going to say.

Your phone dings and you look at it. Shit. Your parent’s just arrived on campus.

You didn’t want to do it this way but you had to end this now.

It was better this way. That’s what you would console yourself with later at least.

“Look—Choso was it? This is a private event and you need to leave.”

You turn to your sisters to explain further. “I tutor his little brother for my volunteer work and he somehow got the crazy idea that I was going to go to some little baseball game with them or whatever.”

You turn back to Choso.

“Well— as you can clearly see. I can’t go. I’m busy and like I said this is a private event so again, you need to leave, understood?”

You turn away not being able to stomach the look on his face like a coward and make up some excuse about checking on the ice sculpture which should have been already placed on one of the center banquet tables. 

You know he’s left from the jeers of ‘bye loser!’ ‘fuck outta here freak!’ echo out from the garden. 

This was for the best after all….

….right? PART 2

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ lol y/n is a huge bih who doesn't deserve our sweet baby. no worries though she is gonna learn her lesson good in part 2 where she finds out shit ain't so sweet lmfao. lmk if you wanna be tagged in comments/reblogs. eta— omg there were so many errors lmfao see this is what happens when i dont re-read my shit 50x before posting lol. i fixed it! sorry to anyone who read it before lol. ⋙ reblog to smoke on choso's joint but comments and likes are appreciated!

[gogogodzilla]

Leave the Light On

mike schmidt x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, continuation of this post, panty sniffing, semi-public masturbation, sex tape, consensual somnophilia part 1 ✩ part 3 ✩ main masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

As soon as he awoke, he knew something had happened. His thighs and groin were covered in the sticky remnants of cum and his briefs were skewed. You’d made good on your promise, and excitement hummed under his skin at the thought. 

He was more confident that you’d taken him up on the offer when he looked in the mirror and saw the hickies coating his neck and chest. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed as he took in the marks. 

He slid on the jeans you had set neatly on the edge of his bed and opted for a hoodie that would cover most of the marks you’d left. He definitely didn’t need Abby asking how he got them. 

His ears perked up at the sound of you coming in through the front door accompanied by hurried footsteps. Abby was talking excitedly about something and you commented here or there. 

He’d entered the kitchen, and your eyes lit up at his appearance. You gave him a devilish grin as you sat at the kitchen table, listening to Abby as she talked. 

The rest of the evening was spent with lingering glances and fleeting touches. He wanted to ruin you as soon as the two of you were alone, but you kept him at arm's length. You led him into the kitchen and retrieved something off the counter.

You handed him a paper bag, “I made you lunch. Dinner, maybe?” He nodded and went to open the bag to inspect its contents. You grabbed his wrist. “Just wait until you get to work, okay?” 

“You’re asking me to be very patient tonight,” he pointed out, sliding a hand around your waist. 

You pecked his lips and pulled him closer, “It’s worth it. Promise.” 

Once it was time for him to leave, you held the door for him and walked him to his car. You had that grin that told him you were up to no good. 

“I hope you enjoy your lunch,” you mentioned as he reached the driver’s side door. 

His eyes flicked to the paper bag clutched in his hand and back to the grin that danced across your lips. Slowly, he started to put the pieces together, and excitement mixed with something else stirred in his belly. He gave you a quick peck on your cheek and yanked open the door to his car, suddenly eager to get to work. 

He kept an iron grip on the wheel for the entirety of his drive. The paper bag sat in the passenger seat, taunting him. He was glad he was the only one in the parking lot as he haphazardly whipped his car into a spot. 

His legs moved almost as quickly as his thoughts as he entered the pizzeria. His footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as he walked toward his office. A small part of him felt embarrassed that he was so excited to see whatever was in the bag.

He forced his breathing to steady as he entered his office. Mike didn’t pride himself on being a patient man, but he figured whatever was in that bag would definitely be worth the wait. He leisurely went through the motions of his nighttime routine, checking the security cameras and making sure all the animatronics were in their correct spots. He’d hoped they would leave him alone just long enough for him to open his gift. 

Finally, he settled into his rolling chair with the paper bag in his lap. He prayed he wasn’t getting his hopes up for a sandwich.  He gingerly opened it and peeked inside. Nestled neatly among the contents of the bag was a VHS tape. His heart rate quickened as he pulled it out and read the label on the front. ‘For Mike’ was scribbled in your neat scrawl and hearts were scattered along the label. 

His hands shook slightly as he ejected the training tape from the player and slid yours in. The TV came to life and it took him a moment to figure out what he was looking at. His eyes widened when he realized he was watching himself sleep. Midday light was shining through his window, and you were grinning as you stepped into the frame. 

You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of his hoodies; his cock jumped in his jeans from just that alone. Such a simple sign of ownership had his breath catching in his throat as he continued to watch. You made a show of stripping for him. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sweatpants and slowly tugged them down your legs. You’d taken your underwear off at the same time as your sweatpants, wasting no time in baring yourself to him. 

You had that same grin that he loved as you bent down to pick up something off the floor, giving the camera the perfect view of your ass. He felt like he was about to burst as you lifted his pants and, with a flourish, tucked your underwear into the front pocket. 

He frantically patted the front of his pants and reached inside each pocket. He released a sigh as his fingers wrapped around the lacy fabric of your panties. He pulled them out of his pocket and brought them to his nose, breathing in your scent. 

His cock pressed uncomfortably against his jeans as he watched you take your hoodie off, revealing that you wore nothing underneath it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as your fingers danced across your chest. He leaned back in his chair, your panties clutched in one hand while the other worked to free his cock from his jeans. 

His fingers were clumsy as he unbuttoned his jeans and yanked down his zipper. He slipped his hand past the waistband of his briefs and gasped as he finally slid a hand over his length. He watched as you caressed his thighs before moving to finally touch him. 

He tugged his briefs down and under his balls, just like you did on the tape. Your actions were gentle but precise as you stroked him. He matched your pace perfectly. Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you slid your hand over his aching cock. 

You pulled away, and Mike halted his own movements, a low whine escaping him. His cock jumped in his hand when you wrapped your plush lips around his cock. He swiped his thumb over the tip of his cock, matching the seductive way your tongue swirled around it.  Your position in front of the camera allowed him to see every minute detail of you bobbing your head around him, and he could already feel the familiar coil tightening in his abdomen. 

A strangled sigh escaped his lips as you drew back with a wet pop. You darted your tongue out to taste him across your lips. A shiver went up his spine at your actions. You were careful as you straddled him and drug your core against him. 

He moaned along with you as you lowered yourself onto his cock. He was slightly surprised he didn’t wake up with you above him whining like that. A part of him wished he did wake up, so he could’ve fucked you properly. 

He planted his feet and rutted his hips into his fist as he watched you create the marks he now donned. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled his small office, and every inch of his skin burned with desire. 

He took your panties and slid them across his cock, moaning as the lacy fabric drug against his flushed skin. The feeling mixed deliciously with the smoothness of his palm, and his back arched against the chair. His jaw went slack, each breath punctuated with a needy moan and a thrust of his hips. 

With a strangled cry, he was cumming, eyes glued to your form as you fell apart on his cock. The pretty little whines you were making were going to be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. The white strings of his release covered your panties with some dripping down his fist and across his knuckles. 

He used your panties to clean up the mess he made. His cheeks flushed as the lace smeared his release over his cock. He prayed you’d leave the light on for him.  

[moonlight1110]

moody bf!Simon :(

Bf!Simon x reader, make-up sex after an argument

Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, NSFW, desperate sex, far from canon simon, I write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not proofread, quick read

Notes: this is your friendly reminder not to write your fics directly on tumblr because it will lag and will not post your work and you have to write it again </3

Bf!Simon hates arguments, hates confrontation, and hates the silence that comes with it after you two have a heated exchange. Usually, when you argued at home, you would have time to cool off before talking, making up and forgetting how the argument happened in the first place.

This was different. You were invited to a small get-together with friends, and immediately, Simon wasn't a big fan of the idea. With the stress from work and his general disinterest in those kinds of social events, he was less than excited to attend.

However, you wanted to go, saying that it would be good to go out more, and plus, you didn't want to reject the invite, it wasn't like you went out often anyway.

With a bit of convincing, Simon reluctantly agreed and you could enjoy your time there... Right?

Wrong.

Here you were, driving home silently after an argument that happened which led to some unpleasant words being exchanged between the two of you which led to the car being filled with an awkward silence all the way home.

When you arrived home and came up on the driveway, he parked the car and stepped out, slamming the door behind him and walking ahead of you to the front door, fishing the keys out from his pocket to open the door with you following behind him.

Once inside the dimly lit home, and after taking off your shoes, you noticed that simon was leaning up against the wall, eyes locked on your figure and you could tell that he was still thinking about the argument.

You stood in front of him, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife as your eyes locked with his, noticing how they darkened when he looked at you.

The silence was deafening... Just the two of you standing in complete and utter silence as the air grew thicker with tension... And a sort of frustration that was starting to rise up between you...

Suddenly...

Simon stepped forward, and without another thought, your arms reached out, wrapping around his neck as your lips crashed in a sloppy and messy kiss with Simon wasting no time in claiming your mouth, delving his tongue past your lips.

"Fuckin' stubborn woman you are..." He groaned, panting as the kiss broke only for a moment before his lips were back on yours, coming back with more urgency as he wrapped his arms around you, already pulling at your clothes.

Simon began to lead you through the dark home and into the living room, a sense of urgency in your steps as you made your way through the house, the kiss only breaking for a mere few seconds before you were back at it again.

You were a tangled mess, stumbling through the darkness, throwing your clothes off in corners neither of you didn't really care for, ending up with Simon on the couch with you standing between his legs, bodies bare and heated.

"C'mere, baby..." He mutters, the sound coming from deep in his chest as he wraps his arms around you, hands greedily palming your ass to spread your legs and pull you into his lap, straddling him.

He pulls you close, skin to skin with your chest pressed tight against his, lips crashing against each other in another heated, and urgent kiss, coming back with a renewed fervor, his lips moving to your neck and trailing hot, wet kisses down the column of your throat.

"Ride me..." He groans against your skin, nipping and sucking to leave his marks, branding you as his own, with his fingers now digging into the flesh of your hips, moving you on top of him, grinding against his aching cock.

"Let me feel you, love... Let me feel that sweet fuckin' pussy..." He groaned, inhaling your scent like a starved man as he lifted your hips, his face still nuzzled into the crook of your neck, whispering his praises...

As he lifted your hips, one of his hands trailed down the underside of your thigh, spreading you wider as he slowly pushed you down his throbbing cock, stretching you open with a guttural groan.

"Fuck yes... Such a tight fuckin' cunt... Made for me... Just for me, baby..." I breathed, his lips moving upwards again until his lips were right up against your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin as he slowly began to guide your hips...

"Just like that, baby... Ride me just how I like it, yeah? Such a good fuckin' girl..." He praised, moaning lowly into your ear as he guided your movements, letting you adjust before he allowed you to move on your own.

As soon as you found your pace, your hips moving in a steady rocking motion, it drives Simon crazy, his head leaning forward again to bury his face into your neck, moaning and groaning against your skin.

"Mmmn... M'Sorry, baby... For earlier, for the arguments..." He babbled into your skin, kissing your neck and shoulder as he got lost in the pleasure, overcome by the ecstasy that he felt with you, and you only.

"Fuckin' hate fighting with you... Don't wanna fight with you..." He added, his voice holding promise, laced with reverence as he began to thrust up into you, burying his head impossibly deeper against your neck as he held your hips in place.

"Gonna fill you up, baby... Show you how sorry I am, yeah?" He mumbled, relishing in the way your breath hitched with every buck of his hips into you, pistoning his cock deep inside your sopping cunt, driven by how perfect you feel, wrapped tight around him.

"Gonna cum deep inside this perfect pussy... Let you feel how much I love you, sweet girl..."

[bruhstories]

Bet III

p.1 here & p2. here & p.4 here & p.5 here

summary: the game is on, but in-ho can't focus on it. he's got you on his mind pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan, slight voyeurism, people dying ayy yo (but if you watched squid game, this is just normal) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! also feel free to replace y/n's age, i just needed to put a number there lol

In-ho removed the intricately designed mask from his face and poured himself a glass of whisky, one leg crossed over the other as he sat on the leather sofa of the control room. The first game was about to begin soon — always Red Light, Green Light — and he waited for his favourite song to start — always Fly Me To The Moon. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about listening to a love song while people lost all hope, one by one falling to the ground.

It was a fantastic way to get rid of the weakest links, leaving only those resilient alive. Player 101, eliminated. Player 82, eliminated. Player 329, eliminated. Player 2, eliminated. They dropped like flies, frantically clawing at the gates in a futile attempt to escape while the soldiers shot them from above, painting the ground crimson.

Exhilarating was the only word that could describe what In-ho felt in that moment, and nothing compared to it. When happiness died along with his wife, control was the only thing that fulfilled him. He controlled who died and who lived, but he was also being fair — if participants played by the rules, they survived. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.

Obviously, they didn't have a choice, and In-ho knew that well enough. No, players only had the illusion of choice, but that mirage was what kept them in the game. Besides, they chose to come to the island. They chose to gamble their lives. They chose to be greedy. If anything, the games taught them, albeit for a short time, that actions had consequences, and In-ho was their judge, jury and executioner. It was truly thrilling. Exciting. Exhilarating.

His phone lit up with a notification from the security cameras concealed in his house. Irked by the sudden disturbance, he opened the app to check the footage. You weren't supposed to be there at that time, because you had already been at his house in the morning. In-ho watched you lock the door behind you, thinking today was the day you stole from him and proved him right.  He scoffed, hoping you would last longer than one day, but to his surprise, you sat on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest, crying. 

He couldn't send you a text — it would have made it obvious that he knew you were there, and his eyes lingered on his phone, forgetting about the game in front of him for a moment. In-ho watched you take out your phone and type, and not a minute later he received a text.

Good morning again! I had a bit of free time after my second job today and came to check on Eunjoo. I'll be leaving in an hour for my other job and I'm not charging for the extra visit.

In-ho stared at the big screen, completely dumbfounded and ignorant to the people dying right before his eyes. How were you working that many jobs? That was, if you were even telling the truth. But he would find out soon, because he left a stack of 2 million won on his nightstand, eagerly waiting for you to take it. You had to take it. You had to be the same as everyone else.

That's absolutely fine. If you don't mind me asking, how many jobs are you working?

He swapped back to the security cameras and watched you wipe the tears off your face with the back of your hand, smiling at his text. Did he say something funny? Why on Earth would you be smiling when a minute ago you had tears rolling down your cheeks?

Officially two, unofficially three. I teach Korean to a family of immigrants, but that's unpaid. I think of it as volunteering. They do feed me, though! My other job is a mascot at Lotte World.

In-ho shattered the empty glass in his hand while reading your text, and winced when he felt blood seeping from a fresh cut. Why, just why did you have to prove him wrong? He watched you go into his bedroom with a pile of freshly clean and dried shirts, ignoring the money. You saw the stack, he noticed you staring at it, hoping you grabbed it, but you found his ironing board and began to iron his shirts, not sparing the money another glance.

Why?

Through the camera, he saw you text back.

Why what?

"Tsk." In-ho scoffed at your question while wrapping a bandage around his palm.

Why are you working that many jobs?

Ah. My uncle has debts. Unfortunately, I had to drop out from uni to help him pay for them. It's fine though, I like what I'm doing. 

How old are you?

23.

Jesus Christ, you were so young, yet life had been unfair to you. You deserved an education, a better life, and it cemented his ideal that the world needed to rid itself of the trash. He didn't know the full details, but he was sure to find out. You were unlike anyone he's met before. At least for now, at least until you proved him right.

Ding!

In-ho opened a picture from you — Eunjoo curling up on the left side of his bed, paws under her, looking like a loaf of bread, and the question 'Is that your side of the bed?' under it.

Indeed it is. 

I knew it! Aww, she misses you :( 

How strange it was to read those words. How strange it was to think about someone, or something missing him. To In-ho that was a foreign feeling, and he loosened his tie, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd seen Eunjoo sleep on his side of the bed before, when he was gone, but he assumed it was just comfortable for her. 

Animals truly were better than humans. If they betrayed their owners, they did it out of necessity. When humans betrayed, it was by choice. 

In-ho watched you neatly adjust his ironed shirt on a coat hanger that you hung in his wardrobe, disregarding the Red Light, Green Light game that had long finished, and it hit him like a train that you reminded him of his wife. God, you were so much like his wife it infuriated him, because no one was allowed to take that place in his heart. No one was allowed to make him feel anything other than hatred.

You had to make a mistake, to prove to him that you were just like everybody else, and if money didn't make you crack, something else would. In-ho made it his purpose to unravel your darkest secrets, whether through manipulation or sheer force, but the distance between the two of you proved a greater obstacle than he thought. 

He watched you finish ironing his clothes, watched you refill Eunjoo's water bowl, watched you comb your hair and put lip balm on while staring into his mirror, and it felt so wrong to study all your quirks and habits without you even knowing. It was the closest thing to having a normal life. But nothing about what he was doing was normal. Especially not watching you be so oblivious to his true self.

With a sigh, In-ho adjusted his mask left the control room to instruct his subordinates, the square-masked guards, to prepare  for the next game, Neolttwigi, the soldiers to take the remaining players back to their beds, and the workers to remove the corpses. 188 players survived and more than 50% were eliminated. In-ho, in his Front Man persona, should've focused on the games, but he couldn't, for some unknown reason, shake off the image of you crying on his kitchen floor. He didn’t dare ask what happened. How could he? It would destroy all the secrecy.

It wasn't that he cared about you — he didn't. You appeared to be a positive, cheerful and talkative person, so whatever hurt your feelings must have been important. Was it your uncle? Your boyfriend? He scoffed at that thought. The mere idea of some guy breaking your heart made him irrationally angry, and In-ho was lucky that his mask concealed his frustration. 

He decided to pay the remaining players a visit, accompanied by eight armed guards, and, just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, there was always a woman who dropped to her knees, begging to be spared and allowed to go home. Another one followed, and even men asked for forgiveness, but they just couldn't get it through their thick skulls that they chose to be there. They chose to gamble their lives away, they chose to borrow money and end up with debts they could never afford to repay. No one forced them to play the games.

When the room was filled with echoing cries and hysterical sobs, In-ho fired a single shot in the air, shutting everyone up. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes like pigs in a slaughterhouse waiting to be gutted, and he lowered the gun, standing firm on his feet.

"You must be mistaken. You are not here to be punished, you are all here because of the choices you made." In-ho simply said, his voice distorted by the mask. 

He took notice of teams already being formed, of those who were willing to step on corpses just to get the big prize and those who would rather sacrifice themselves, because there were always people who wanted to play the hero. He studied them all before they got recruited, and knew 456 secrets, 456 names, 456 lives. Well, only 188 survived.

"We came here to win money, not to fucking die!" Player 072 shouted from the back of the room. "And if I'm correct, we can vote to go back home."

Ah, yet another one who thought they could outsmart In-ho. He's been there before. He walked that path before, and it taught him that people don't change. Ever. Even if they voted to leave, they always came back.

"Of course, clause three of the consent form. If the majority decides to go home, you are free to do so. We don't hold anyone against their will." In-ho nodded. "But before you make your choice, allow me to tell you the current accumulated prize."

He pressed a button on a small, black remote and a large glass piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling as the lights in the room dimmed down. Stacks upon stacks of money piled up in the piggy bank, and the screen counted the current prize — 26.8 billion won. In-ho watched how their faces lit up at the amount of money accumulated, but also how the penny dropped for most of them — the more people died, the more money the survivors got.

"If you choose to leave, the money will be distributed amongst the deceased players' families. It’s only fair." He said, and left the room so that the soldiers could prepare for the democratic vote.

"You're manipulating us!" In-ho heard a player shout, and maybe he did. Maybe he was chipping away at their humanity to bring out the worst in them, but it was for the best. At least by dying they served a purpose.

It was no surprise that the majority voted to stay, 95 to 93. Good — he didn't have to go through the trouble of sending them home. The soldiers and workers brought food for the players, and In-ho checked his phone in the safety of his room. There was no text from you, and it was almost time for you to check on Eunjoo, but when it hit 9 and you weren't in his house, he felt a knot in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. Was he worried? Of course he was, for his cat, not for you.

Ding!

The sound of his phone caught him off guard, almost startling him, almost making him feel relieved when he saw it was you, and In-ho read the text.

Evening! Traffic was baaad this evening but I'm nearly at the penthouse. Will Eunjoo ever forgive me? :( 

The stupid sad face you sent made the image of you pouting pop up in his head and he wondered why. There wasn't a good enough reason for you to be haunting him like a phantom. You were a nobody to him.

Eunjoo might, but I won't.

In-ho immediately regretted pressing send. It was unprofessional and stupid of him to text such a reply, because you weren't friends. He had no friends. 

I'm so sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you, Mr. Hwang! I really need to get you a gift for letting me use your shower anyway.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips when you didn't take his message the wrong way, but part of him was hoping you would try to flirt with him, seduce him, do anything to prove him right. And yet again, you remained true to yourself.

He watched you on the cameras again, how you invaded his home, his life, how you fed Eunjoo and munched on prawn crackers again, disappointed that you, for the second day in a row, refused to use anything in his house for yourself except for the shower and the TV.

There was still time to win the bet, and he never lost.

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm

please keep in mind that if i didn't tag you it's because i either missed it, or i couldn't find your age on your blog. there will be smut.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Princess & The Pilot - Part 2

In which Lando surprises you.

Warnings: nothing (mostly fluff. angst if you squint and are sensitive at the end ig) Pairing: Lando Norris x British!Princess!Reader Word Count: 3.5k

The Princess & The Pilot - Part 1 Master List

(this should go without saying but don't steal my work. you don't have permission to repost or translate or do ANYTHING other than reblog my work straight from my blog. kthanksbyeeeeeee)

positivelynottheprincess (private) posted

positivelynottheprincess new hair. new dress. lets get this (awards) party started yourbff MA'AM (respectfully) princecharming mum is going to have a fit over the back of that dress >>>positivelynottheprincess that's why she's not going to see it til I walk into the gala BROTHER. ladykensingtonpriv Windsor genes never miss >>>positivelynottheprincess miss your face. leave monaco and come back to me bby. >>>ladykensingtonpriv come visit meeeeeee!

“Mate, you’re drooling.” Oscar swipes playfully at Lando’s chin while shaking his head. 

Lando swats at his teammates hand without tearing his gaze away from where you stand across the room talking to a middle-aged woman and her daughter.

"I'm sorry but it's kind of hard not to when she's over there looking like that. I mean, Jesus Christ." He hisses, sliding his eyes off of you and over to Oscar. Lando spotted you the moment he had walked into the large ballroom Saturday like you were a siren calling to a doomed sailor. Your hair was pulled back into a neat bun and the backless black satin dress you wore should really be illegal it looked so good. He was almost certain that if you were to cut yourself right then, you'd bleed royal blue.

"You're asking for trouble." Oscar warns, his eyes darting between Lando beside him and you across the room. "With the way you go through women, maybe pursuing an actual real life princess isn't the best idea."

Lando's head whipped back around to really glare at Oscar this time. "The fuck you mean, 'the way I go through women?"

The Australian levels a look at his British counterpart, brows raised as if to say 'you're really asking me that question?' and Lando blushes.

"Okay, fine. Maybe you're right but there's something different about her. We really hit it off earlier in the week."

Ever since the event a few days ago, Lando hadn't been able to get his mind off of you, the way you laughed as he took the car around the corners just a little too sharply, the way your smile lit up a room and everyone around you was just magnetically drawn to you. It was intoxicating just being near you and even though Lando had only spent a few moments in your presence, he was already craving his next hit.

"Well, don't look now but I think she's finally spotted us."

Lando and Oscar had arrived about twenty minutes ago and you had almost immediately noticed the driver's arrival. It was like the mood in the room shifted when he came through the door, a low burning fire stoking itself inside your belly the moment you laid eyes on him. If it hadn't been for the fact that you had been in the middle of a conversation with one of the award winners and her mother, you would have made a beeline to him, but your upbringing had taught you better.

As soon as you excused yourself from the conversation, you began scanning the room, knowing exactly who you wanted to see before the dinner started. Had you known Lando was going to be here, you would have pushed Sebastian a little harder with the seating arrangements and gotten yourself sat at the McLaren table.

The hum of hundreds of voices is just a faint noise in the back of your mind as you approach Lando and Oscar, who are both standing against the bar on one side of the room. Your dress swishes at your feet as you walk towards them and you silently thank Tilly, your stylist, for insisting on the backless black dress you were wearing tonight. You had originally wanted to go with something a little more conservative but Tilly was always giving you more bolder suggestions, insisting that despite you being a princess you were still a young woman with a 'banging body', as she put it, and deserved to show it off a little, even at official engagements.

"Lando!" You croon as soon as you're within earshot. Breaking all sorts of protocol rules, you accept the hug that Lando offers, sinking into the heat of his body when he wraps his arms around you. "I didn't think you were going to be able to make it. Zak said you were busy."

Pulling back, you're mesmerized by the bright blue green eyes the color of the Mediterranean Sea for a moment as you grin at him.

Lando shrugs, not wanting to admit that he had refused to come until he found out you were going to be here tonight. "Last minute cancelation so I got to come bug Osc for the night." He grins that little cheeky grin you've noticed he's so fond of.

"And here I thought you were coming just to see me again." You feign offense, but a smirk plays at the corner of your red lips.

The blush that blooms across Lando's tan face has you biting back a giggle. "Oh...well..." He stutters. Beside him, Oscar chuckles.

Before Lando has a chance to recover further, your brother steps on stage to begin the awards. With a wink aimed at Lando, you excuse yourself, telling the two drivers you'll find them after the awards.

The dinner goes off without a hitch and before you know it, your brother is saying his closing remarks and thanking everyone for coming. You have to do your 'closing duties' as Sebastian calls them and stand by his side near the doors to say goodbye as your guests leave. The fact that you hadn't had a chance to see or talk to Lando since before the dinner and awards weighs on you and you hope that you're able to catch him before he leaves.

You're chatting with one of the winners when you catch sight of a certain curly haired mullet that makes your pulse quicken. He's hovering near the bar alone, Oscar and Zak nowhere in sight. Once you're able to excuse yourself, you make your way over to where he stands. The way Lando watches you as you approach sends a shiver of anticipation shimmering down your spine.

Lando has spent the last fifteen minutes after saying good bye to Oscar and Zak just watching you. Watching the way you worked a room was one of the most impressive things he'd ever seen. The way you're totally engaged in conversation no matter who it is is something Lando's never really seen before and he craves watching you. He notices other things though, slight shifts in your expression as you move from one person to another. It's in the way your shoulders hitch up towards your ears a bit when you're not speaking to someone like you're tired or the way your eyes glaze over ever so slightly when you're listening to someone talk for a long time. If he hadn't been watching you like a hawk, he would have never noticed but it was so slight and so subtle that he was sure no one but him caught on.

Suddenly, Lando wanted to take you away from all of it. He could tell your mask was solidly in place and that you were good at what you did but that didn't matter to him. Just the thought of you being uncomfortable or anxious made him feel the same. You were so good at making others feel comfortable and were authentic with your care and attention but he knew that there was a bit of you, deep down, that didn't want to be here. That craved the quiet respite of a dark room and soft music. He knew that because he felt it too, more often than he cared to admit. Lando felt that the two of you had more in common than he first had realized.

"Waiting for me?" You flirt, leaning against the bar as the bartender pours you another glass of white wine. You're past your two drink limit that is customary for you at these kinds of events but the heady buzz it gives you while you talk to Lando is too tempting.

"Well, you did promise you'd find me after." There's that mischievous glint in his eye again.

"Did I?" You counter, enjoying the way it feels to have his entire attention on you. The heat curling in your belly tells you that you'd like to have more of his undivided attention on you, in private this time.

Lando nods, taking a sip of his beer. "I never forget the things a pretty girl says to me." He murmurs, taking a subtle step closer to you. The fact that you're this close to him in public, with your brother just across the room, doesn't escape your notice but you find it particularly hard to care, what with the way Lando keeps staring at your lips every time you speak.

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls."

"Only the ones I can't stop thinking about." Lando's voice drops an octave, the husky tone scraping roughly against your skin.

The blush that creeps up your neck and over your cheekbones nearly sends Lando into a tailspin.

For someone who spends a majority of her time speaking to people and making conversation out of nothing, you're rendered speechless at the way this man looks at you. You're not used to someone being so bold with their intentions as people are intimidated by who you are and who your family is. It's refreshing to be spoken to like a normal woman by a man that you're attracted to. It doesn't feel forced or fake either, just a man flirting with a woman who he thinks is attractive.

"I'm meeting a few friends at a pub after this, come get a drink with me."

The way he phrases it makes it sound like a command and not a request. Desire curls low in your belly and you want nothing more to say yes. Regret stings though, harsh and unwanted.

"I can't." You lament "I have to stay here until the last guest leaves. Royal duties and all that." You don't bother trying to keep the sadness out of your voice.

"Oh..." Lando doesn't bother hiding his disappointment either.

"But," You say quickly, reaching out so your fingers brush his elbow. "I'm free tomorrow night."

The pub that you suggest is one that you're a regular at so you know your privacy will be respected. The last thing you needed was the press getting wind of you spending time with known playboy and womanizer Lando Norris, even if his reputation didn't match who the man really was in real life. You knew better than most that quite often, the chosen narrative that the press ran with was very far from the actual truth.

Thankfully, your father had followed through on his promise to give you the day off so you hadn't had to cancel but your protection officers had insisted on following you to the pub even though you'd been there hundreds of times before. "This is the first time you're meeting this person alone, your highness. Your father would have a heart attack if he knew we'd allowed you to go out alone." Your head PO had reasoned, despite you arguing that you were literally meeting Lando Norris of all people, a man who was almost equally as famous as you were. In the end, you had compromised and the two officers that were assigned to you that night, Bradley and Nathan, had agreed to be discreet and sit at the bar without bothering you.

Lando had been the first to arrive at the cozy pub, happy that you had suggested someplace quiet and out of the way. The last thing he needed was Zak getting wind of him doing the exact opposite of what he had advised him to do. He sat tucked away in a corner booth, pint ordered for himself and a glass of wine ready for you, nervously tapping away at his phone to his best friend Max, who was on Oscar and Zak's side that this entire thing was a bad idea. Which made Lando want to prove himself to them even more. He wasn't just some stupid race car driver that only bagged models left and right. He could hold his own with you, a well educated and well bred member of the Royal family, thank you very much.

The bell over the heavy door chimed, announcing your arrival. Lando's head popped up as it had with every jingle of the bell, nerves grating on his usually cool demeanor. He wasn't quite sure what it was about you that had him so off kilter, but you made him nervous. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not but he wanted to see if he could figure you out.

Lando's mouth went dry when he saw you, dressed casually in a flowy floral skirt and creamy white knit jumper. For the first time since meeting, your hair was down and the only thing Lando could think about was running his hands through the thick waves to see if you liked your hair pulled.

Nerves sparked down your spine when you saw him waiting for you, eyes trained on his phone in front of him. His ignorance to your arrival hadn't lasted long and the moment you two locked gazes, your pulse sky rocketed. Be normal about this you chide yourself as you cross the pub. Go slow your mind begs, although your heart has different ideas.

"Hi Lando." You murmur into his neck when he pulls you in for a hug, his arms lingering around just a touch longer than necessary.

"You look good tonight, princess."

The way he says 'princess' like it's a nickname and not a formal title has butterflies taking flight in your belly.

You sit across from him, impressed that he ordered you your favorite wine, not knowing that he had asked the bartender last night what you had been drinking at the awards gala. The two of you fall into an easy banter, discussing everything from his life racing in Formula 1 to the degree in business and international relations you had just completed the prior spring.

Everything felt so easy with Lando, you noticed as you finished your second glass of wine. As the fuzzy haze that the alcohol washed over you, you were relieved and surprised at how normal this all felt. You weren't the 'savior of the monarchy' or the 'perfect English princess' here with him. You were just a 25 year old recent uni graduate spending an evening with a charming man you had met out of pure circumstance.

"I have a confession." Lando says once he's two beers deep.

You arch a perfectly shaped brow, wondering if now is when the other shoe drops. "Oh?"

"I'm kind of surprised you were allowed to come here on your own tonight."

Relief floods through you as a laugh bubbles up from the back of your throat. "Were you expecting I walk in flanked by a bunch of body guards?"

Lando shrugs, looking a little sheepish. "Kinda?"

The way you throw your head back and laugh has Lando mesmerized, the sound of it airy and light. He thinks he could spend the rest of his life making you laugh like that and never get bored.

Oh.

"Do you see that big guy over there? In the dress shirt sitting at the bar?"

Lando finds the man you're talking about sitting with his back towards you and nods.

"That's Nathan, he's my lead protection officer tonight." You point towards the door next, where another large man sits scrolling through his phone. "And that's Bradley, my second PO. He's already clocked that we're talking about him, don't let the eyes on the phone fool you."

Lando sits back, a bit blown away that these guys had been here the entire time and he hadn't known. It made him feel better though, knowing that you had been under their watch and protected the entire time. He thought back to the story you told him the first day you met, about the stalker. He wasn't a stranger to weird fan behavior, with how public he lived his life but as his eyes pinged back and forth from you to your protection officers, he realized your fame was on another level.

You sensed the hesitation in Lando then, a familiar look of intimidation and shock falling over his handsome face. You were used to that look, having seen it time and time again from new friends and potential boyfriends. Everyone was in love with the idea of you, the idea of being associated with you and what your life was but when the reality hit them? More often than not, they realized your friendship wasn't worth the price of being in your life.

"I come with a lot of baggage, Lan." You murmur, playing with the stem of your wine glass. You know what comes next and you brace yourself for it, regretting allowing yourself to get your hopes up that maybe, just maybe, he had been different.

Lando is quiet for a bit as he gazes at you, eyes soft and vulnerable. You try desperately to avoid looking at him, unable to face what you feel will be pity in his eyes. You've seen it so many times before. When people learn about how regimented and controlled your life is, how you can't step one toe out of line for fear of bringing the wrath of an entire nation down on your head. It's hard and you never want to ask another person to voluntarily take that on for you.

"That's okay." Lando says easily. His eyes finally find yours then because you've fond the courage to look at him then and they practically sparkle over at you. "We all come with baggage but sometimes when you have two people handling it together, the baggage becomes a little easier to handle all at once."

The spark that scurries up your arm when he reaches out to clasp your fingers in his is something you've never felt before.

"I thought you lived at the palace?" Lando looks at you sideways as you walk down the quiet street later that night. The pub where you had spent the last several hours was just a short walk from your townhome so when Lando had offered you a ride, you had told him you would just walk. He had insisted on walking you home then and you had of course accepted.

"I have apartments at the palace, yes but I mostly live here." You point to the a brick townhome that sits at the end of a quiet row. "It belonged to my grandmother but she gave it to me when I turned 18."

"My grandma gave me a watch when I turned 18." Lando grouses.

Not for the first or even second time tonight, you tilt your head back on a laugh and Lando thinks it's the prettiest sound he's ever heard. He's mildly concerned that he's becoming addicted.

You come to a stop at the bottom of your stoop, turning to face Lando, suddenly feeling shy. You hadn't expected this to feel as much like a date as it felt. When he had said 'drink' you assumed it would be a casual thing between two potential friends getting to know each other. What you hadn't anticipated was how natural it felt being with Lando, how effortless it felt to have his eyes on you.

"I had fun tonight." Lando says, taking a step closer to you. He knows that your protection officers are close by, far enough away to give you privacy but close enough to be able to do their job. It doesn't bother him as much as he thought it would though.

"I did too." You confess, sinking into the warmth you can feel radiating from his body.

"I want to kiss you." Lando is so close now you can feel the brush of his breath fan out over your cheek.

"Then kiss me." You breathe.

The first brush of his lips has you drowning in him. The plush press of his mouth on yours has your knees weak, reaching out to steady yourself by clutching at his dress shirt. Like everything with Lando Norris, the kiss is unexpectedly heated and wholly natural. The thought buzzes in the back of your mind that you could get used to this with him.

It's so dangerous.

Lando swallows your sigh when he licks into your mouth for the first time, needing to consume anything he can that belongs to you. You find yourself entirely forgetting about the world around you, not caring that anyone could see you making out with Lando Norris in the middle of the sidewalk. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, an alarm goes off but the way Lando kissed you silences any coherent thought outside of his lips on yours.

"Oh." You whisper when you finally pull back.

Lando runs his hand over his mouth, eyes playfully regarding you as if he's surprised. "Oh is right, princess."

God you were so glad your brother had gotten sick this week.

Tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley y @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @eloriis @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @bibissparkles @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @amyj3114 @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff

[djotime-allthetime]

Freaky Redheads

synopsis: interactions between you and fred hechinger at a red carpet event for gladiator ii.

wc: 2.5k+

rpf!!! don't like, don't read!!!

a/n: i love that soft, sweet, adorable man with all of my heart. my inspiration is how fred talks about sherry. the monkey. i'm down bad bro.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of these interviews. i definitely have more in mind for these two, but we'll see how this goes. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

The flashing cameras and yelling reporters have started to become the new normal, which was so not normal for you. You couldn't believe how far you'd come.

Granted, your role in the movie was definitely more in the supporting cast territory, but you couldn't deny how massive the production was. But even as a supporting actress, you still had quite a bit of screen time as the unnamed favorite concubine to Emperor Caracalla.

The fans who knew you called out your name from behind the velvet ropes and you smiled and waved as you walked by.

"y/n! y/n! Over here!" A reporter called out. You nodded and smiled as you approached, indicating your acceptance of the carpet-side interview. Your agent had warned you that not every journalist might want to speak with you and that you should accept any interview you came by. Thankfully, as the start of your night would show, that wasn't the case.

"Hello!" You beamed, coming to a stop in front of the camera. The reporter greeted you back and handed you a microphone glued to a mini Romanesque column. "Oh, wow. I love the microphone!"

"Thank you," She smiled. With a quick glance at her blouse, you saw a name tag that said 'MTV UK: Claire'. "It was my idea, actually."

"Incredibly creative! They should give you a raise, Claire."

"If you wouldn't mind saying that directly into the camera..." Claire trailed off with a chuckle and a mischievous glint to her eye.

You shot the camera as serious a look as you could muster. "MTV, if you do not give this woman a raise, I will riot in the streets."

"Alright alright, enough of that." Claire laughed out loud with a few shakes of her head. "You look absolutely stunning!"

"Oh, this old thing?" You smiled bashfully, grabbing at your skirt to twirl it around. The styling department had made sure that all the gowns worn during press had some Roman inspiration behind them. The piece you were wearing was off white in color, representing your character's position in society. Even with your character in mind, your dress was still breathtaking. The gown was composed of yards and yards of fabric, giving it this dreamy, flowy silhouette. The neckline was so beautiful, in the cowl style and draped ever so slightly off your shoulders. To say that you loved it would be an understatement. "Thank you very much, you look amazing yourself."

"But you are on a different level!" Claire gasped, no doubt to return the topic to you. Just like you were media trained, the reporters were too. "What was the thought process behind your look tonight?"

Your eyes lit up as this was something you had wanted to talk about. "Well, the styling department and I actually workshopped this look together. Of course we wanted it to be glamorous, this is the red carpet after all. But we also wanted to show the character through the outfits, you know?" She nodded along.

"Right, your character was quite impactful even with the few lines you had." Claire added, and you smiled in thanks.

"Yeah, thank you." You felt your face heat up at the compliment. "We wanted to still be true to her, under all the glitz and glamour. So that's why we went with the understated color, to not only show her position in society but also her demeanor throughout the film."

"But your jewellery is anything but understated." She laughed.

"Yeah, I couldn't help myself." You laughed with her.

"Give us a quick tour."

You were almost dripping in gold, from your head to your toes. "We've got the hair piece." You brought a hand up to show the gold pins connected with chains littering your up-do. "Earrings upon earrings, all hoops." You pulled a strand back to show off your right ear clearly. Some were clip on earrings as you didn't have quite enough piercings to get them all. "The necklaces, of course. Some bracelets, some rings. But I think this cuff on my upper arm is my favorite."

"And these are all borrowed pieces from different brands?"

"Most of them are, yes." You confirmed with a nod. "But some are from my private collection. And some I might steal." You joked, getting a laugh out of Claire.

"Well, you really knocked it out of the park." Claire smiled, a tone of finality in her voice that showed you the interview was coming to a close. "And before we let you go, we've got one question we're asking everyone tonight. I think we can all agree that the cast of this movie is full of beautiful men." You giggled, a bit surprised at the turn in topic. "But people on the internet have separated them into two categories."

"Oh, have they now?" You asked, unaware of what she was talking about.

"Yes, they have. Gen Z has divided them into the brooding brunets and the freaky redheads." She explained, pulling up two little hand held signs. One with Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, the brooding brunets, and the other with Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger, the freaky redheads.

You couldn't contain the surprised laugh that escaped you at the sight of their little printed faces. "Oh my goodness!"

"So, as the resident Gen Z-er on the cast, who is your pick?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm the only representation of Gen Z here." You mused as you grabbed both the signs from Claire. You lifted up the 'freaky redheads' sign and pointed to Fred. "My friend is right there with me in the Gen Z territory."

"Alright, as the representation of Gen Z women, which team is more your style?" Claire asked as you studied the signs. "People are saying they went into the movie for the brunets and came out converted to team redheads."

"That's actually really funny," You chuckled as you looked down at both signs. "This is hard." You mumbled. A small smirk found itself on your lips as you thought of Fred seeing this clip later. Someone no doubt showing it to him, as he wouldn't find it on his own. "I feel like- yeah." You nodded with determination. "I'm gonna have to go with Fred- I'm going with team freaky redheads." You nodded. "I think it would be treacherous otherwise."

"Good choice. You'd break Emperor Caracalla's heart."

"And then he'd have my head." You laughed, stepping back. "Thank you for your great questions."

"Thank you for your time." Claire waved as you walked away. "We're gonna have a tally going throughout the night, and we'll see who wins. Team brooding brunets, or team freaky redheads." You heard her say to the camera as you moved further down the carpet.

'She looks so pretty!!'

'i love the thought process behind the outfit, you can tell she really loved her character'

'the reporter asked y/n if she prefers lucius and acacius or geta and caracalla and this girl really said FRED 💀'

'i love seeing new faces in hollywood, give young new actors a chance!!' ↳ 'right?? im so sick of them recycling the same actors for every big budget movie'

'she mentioned fred, not caracalla, twice, unprompted. i see you, y/n. you're just like us.' ↳ 'have you seen his interviews? he's literally the cutest i cant blame her 🥺'

A few steps down, another reporter flagged you down. This time, the questions were more centered around the acting itself.

"And was it difficult? In a previous interview, you've said that your character's growth was significant, but she had almost no lines in the movie."

"Yeah, I think in the final cut she only has... three lines?" You winced, looking upwards as you tried to recall what was and wasn't cut. "Though I'm not sure."

"So there were scenes where she could've said more?"

"Oh yeah, for sure! There was a lot of experimentation with my character throughout filming. Ridley's a genius and he was kind enough to truly take in my suggestions. There were times where I felt like she would actually stay quiet during a scene, whereas other times I felt like she would speak up. But yeah," You breathed in and furrowed your brows in thought as you tried to focus your answer back to the original question. "It was definitely a challenge. I had to really work on my micro-expressions. Lots of research, lots of practice. And lots of trust, too. With a character like mine, I really relied on Fr- on my fellow actors in those scenes. So yeah, definitely challenging. But who doesn’t love a good challenge?"

"And did you take any inspiration from other people's work? Any source material that helped you out as you built your character?"

"Of course!" You smiled, a hint of humor in your tone as you thought of your response. "Yeah, I did. Actually, one of the biggest inspirations for my role, believe it or not, was Ferb. From 'Phineas and Ferb'."

"The- The children's show?" The interviewer questioned with a grin.

"Yeah, Ridley thought it was brilliant!" You laughed. "We watched compilations of Ferb scenes on youtube together. And I know that Fred- Fred Hechinger, who plays Emperor Caracalla-, he also brought up Sid Vicious with Ridley, as well as other sources like that. Sir Ridley Scott has great taste, there's no denying that."

'ferb as inspiration for a movie like this,,, gen z in the film industry really are the gift that keeps on giving'

'im just imagining y/n and ridley scott curled up on the couch watching phineas and ferb reruns. that man is 86 years old. this is brilliant.'

'bro didn't even have to say anything and y/n still brought up fred 💀'

'the gen z cast members making ridley scott watch cartoons is sending me'

'not her pretending she didn't mean to say fred when she talked about trust, we all heard you y/n'

Unbeknownst to you, Fred's interviews were going much like yours, only a few feet behind you on the carpet.

"You look amazing today!" Claire, the same reporter you spoke to, told Fred during his first interview on the carpet.

"Thank you, thank you." He replied bashfully as he tried to subtly look around for you, but he couldn't see you just yet. "Everyone looks so great, everyone."

She asked him a few questions and then came time for her ending segment.

"Alright, to close off, we've got a little game here."

"A game?" Fred smiled with raised brows. "I love games." He said softly, not realizing that the microphone would pick it up.

"Yes, a quick one. You just have to choose between team brooding brunets and team freaky redheads. We've asking everyone to join."

"Woah!" Fred exclaimed as he received the signs. "That's me." He pointed out his own face in the picture of him and Joseph. "What are we basing our choice on here?"

"Well, the internet is battling on who is more attractive."

"Oh my god." Fred chortled, not expecting that answer. "Who's played the game?" He asked, still examining the hand held signs.

"As of now, we've spoken to Joseph Quinn, Connie Nielsen, and y/n l/n." Claire recounted.

Fred's eyes lit up and his cheeks reddened at the mention of your name. "And what's the- what's the consensus so far?"

"It's two to one. Can you guess who's in the lead?" Claire asked.

"Let me think... Well, Joseph -my brother-, he definitely voted for us." He pondered aloud as he counted the votes off on his fingers. "Connie... I think Connie went for team brunets. I mean, it's her husband. She's gotta." He grinned when it came to you. "y/n chose me, right? We're in the lead?"

"Yeah, you're right on all counts! You really know your cast members." Claire laughed. "y/n didn't want to anger Emperor Caracalla."

"Oh, she couldn't. I’ve got too much of a soft spot for her." Fred shook his head emphatically.

"So, are you keeping team redheads in the lead? Or will you give us a tie?"

"No, I'm going team redheads!" Fred exclaimed. "I'm not helping out my competition, no way!"

'this man has bewitched me with his beautiful eyes and calming demeanor'

'he always calls joe his brother im CRYINGGG'

'did you see his face when they mention y/n, this man can't hide his crush for the life of him 🥺' ↳ 'neither can she lol'

'what do yall know about fred hechinger 🗣️🗣️🗣️'

'fred immediately knowing that y/n chose him, kill me right now.' ↳ 'mind you the choice was caracalla. she still said 'fred' and he said 'me'. can they be more obvious?'

'the way this man said 'i love games' protect him at all costs'

‘he said ‘i’ve got a soft spot for her’ is this the year of men yearning?’ ↳ ‘it’s just the paul mescal effect’

It was during his next interview that he saw you. He was talking about his experience building the character of Emperor Caracalla with Sir Ridley Scott as well as Joseph Quinn when he finally caught sight of you. You had spent a bit longer with a specific reporter down the carpet, causing Fred to catch up to you. 

“Of course, y/n was a great help as well.” He smiled, reaching over to brush against your elbow to catch your attention. At the perfect time, too, because you had just finished talking to the reporter in front of you.

“Oh, Fred!” You beamed, coming over to give him a hug. 

“Look at you.” Fred spoke against your shoulder. He pulled away from the hug and brought you into his side in front of the camera, almost like he was showing you off. “Look at her, isn’t she stunning.”

“Stop it,” you rolled your eyes as you tried your best not to show how his compliment affected you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just had to say hello.”

“No worries,” the reporter reassured you. “Fred was actually saying how you helped with the building of his character.”

“Yeah, we worked really closely during pre-production actually.” You nodded, acutely aware of Fred’s hands on you. He had one hand casually tucked into his pocket while his other arm draped across your waist, his hand resting against your hip. “My character was almost like Caracalla’s sidekick, so the motives for all her actions are really based around him.”

“I’d argue that she was more of a mirror, actually.” You turned to look at Fred, never passing up an opportunity to hear his view on these things. “She’s the complete opposite of Caracalla, but in a way she represents who he truly is under all the pressure of being in Geta’s shadow.”

“And under all the syphilis, of course.” You added, causing Fred to giggle.

“Yeah, and under the syphilis.”

‘he seems like such a sweet guy 🥺’

‘did you see his face when he saw her???  😫😫😫 theyre in love, your honor’

‘him showing her off like that is peak soft boyfriend behavior’

‘they just called me single in seven different languages’

‘his laugh is actually so cute, who is this man and why am i in love with him? 😍’ ↳ 'get in line' ↳'behind y/n, you mean?'

‘the way he’s touching her???? im just gonna go take a nap in front of an oncoming train’

‘im calling it, new hollywood it couple’

‘look at how he looks at her!!! may this love find me 🙏’

[moonchild1]

 kim taehyung fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hello everyone i know it's been a while since i posted, work has been hectic, but i got some time and managed to finish a list so please enjoy i have a few lists ready to post so i'll que them up... here's my all time favourite taehyung fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, leave a heart, reblog or even leave a message or feedback under their posts i know they would appreciate hearing from you, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed you will be blocked ♡ feel free to recommend me some fics or just share what your reading right now i'd love hearing from you 🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

only here to sin by @gimmethatagustd s a ft. namjoon

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

our gray winter by @vyduan s a ft. jjk

“Were you looking for this?” Taehyung asked as he handed you the box of tampons you always bought. He remembered. You wanted to sink into the floor and die. Instead, you recalled your manners and said, “Thanks.” You put the box in your basket. “I can’t believe you remembered.” He beamed at you. It was patently unfair how he could look all glowy and soft while you looked… not like that. “Of course, Y/N.” If possible, Taehyung’s voice dropped even lower. “I remember everything about you.”

schemes and tricks to win her heart by @crystaljins ft. ksj

Rich company heir Kim Seokjin has a plan to win the heart of the girl of his dreams, and you, his little brother’s best friend, are dragged along for the ride. His younger brother objects, of course.

camboy!tae by @hisunshiine f s a

Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene. 

tolerate it by @archivedkookie s a

Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

what was hidden by @daechwitatamic s a ft. myg

This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You're assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg's The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there's a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one's "true self" versus one's "shown self", darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

complete faith by @daechwitatamic

It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it, even though he’s attentive and funny, even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. jjk

it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung. 

with a brush of fate by @yoongiofmine f s a

Your roommate was sure she found you the perfect man. Her boyfriend believed he found Taehyung’s soulmate. The only problem was that you never wanted to date an idol and he never wanted to drag you into this life. Taehyung didn’t even know what he wanted anymore and was tired of being criticized for simply growing up. You just wanted to finish university and do something for yourself. What started out with the meddling of your friends became something neither of you expected. Could the two of you be what the other is missing? Or would things just fall apart?

groovy by @kinktae f s a

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister. 

tempting by @/kinktae s a

Y/N is an angel. She steers clear of the seven deadly sins, especially lust. She runs into a demon but, luckily for her, that demon doesn’t seem to buy into that whole “Angels and Demons are sworn enemies” idea. But unluckily for her, he just so happens to be the very embodiment of sin. Especially lust.

talk by @gukslut f s a

Finals week is kicking your ass, thank goodness you have a friend to help you relieve some stress. It’s a great arrangement, as long as no one finds out... as long as you don’t catch feelings. What could go wrong?

somebody to love by @cutechim

kim taehyung wins the heart of everyone he meets, and you—his self-proclaimed work “nemesis”—are not an exception.

tear you apart by @bratkook s

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear, ‘I wanna fucking tear you apart.’ demon au

clairevont by @/bratkook f s a ft. jjk

The second year of college starts off with a bang until you find yourself tangled in between your fuck buddy Kim Taehyung and his innocent room mate Jeon Jungkook.

free use by @littlemisskookie f s a

You tell your crush you want him to have full control of you in every way always. He obliges.

lost myth of truelove by @sugalaritae f s a

for six months you wait for him, a weekend spent together, finally able to reach the man your soul is tethered to.

because of you, blue by @ugh-yoongi f s a

nearly a year out from your breakup with taehyung, jin begs you for help saving his failing restaurant. the two of you aren’t exactly friends, but you feel some stupid sense of obligation and, really, what’s the worst that could happen?

true love by @jjkeverlast f s a

in which you're face to face with your ex again after 5 years, because both of your friends start dating each other.

obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash s a

The world of magic is divided into dark and light, witches and warlocks, choice and fate. You’re a prodigy of light, a witch who works within the police force. You’ve heard of Taehyung in passing, spoken in whispers as the warlock of dark who has the world holding it’s breath.  All this changes on the night you’re assigned as security for a mysterious singer named V and you come face to face with Taehyung himself. What happens after that might be fate.

baby, baby by @hobiwonder ft. pjm f s a

When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

entangled by @caelesjjk ft. jjk s a

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well. Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

buzzed by @junqkook f s a

maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

queen cobra by @fantasybangtan f s a

when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

pulse by @rohobi f s a

You fell in love with Kim Taehyung during Medical School. Now living totally different lives in completely different hospitals, you're pulled together again as if by fate during a code black when someone plants a bomb in your hospital. 

things we don't say by @wintaerbaer f s a

Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

mars by @to-star-lake s a

ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung

satisy by @suga-kookiemonster f s a

 “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do?

no kisses by @icedmatchatae f s a

It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

beyond desire by @strwberrytae s a

it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

one-shot

crazy for you by @oddinary4bts f s a

 you’ve known Kim Taehyung your whole life. When you meet again at a party hosted by your best friend, alcohol looses your lips and you spill your secrets to your childhood crush. Will Taehyung give in to your desire, or will you be struck by remorse?

seventeen times 17 by @cutaepatootie f s a

You loved him Seventeen Times 17.

ten out of ten by @shadowkoo f s a

For the past three years, Kim Taehyung has made it his mission to annoy you relentlessly on campus, finding every possible way to drive you up the wall during your shared classes. However, as you both enter your senior year, something strange happens. Taehyung begins to sense a shift in his energy, realizing he might just have some secret feelings for you. What unfolds when you make this earth-shattering discovery too?

under wraps by @jungkxook f s

there’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

always the bridesmaid by @kookingtae f s a

When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

any way you want it by @noteguk s

in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

sharing is caring by @jjkpls f s ft. pjm

Taehyung is taken aback when his soulmate, Jimin, introduces his new girlfriend to him. Jimin tries to help them break the ice.

the end of all things (and the beginning of us) by @/kidguk f s a

the end of the world has come and passed, but there is still much to live for. there’s hope, there’s tomorrow, and there’s that guy you met while scavenging for supplies in an abandoned cinema. turns out he hates being alone, and the feeling is mutual.

aberrant by @kth1 f s

Meeting a handsome and rare fox hybrid was the last thing you had expected in a world of coexisting hybrids. What you also hadn’t expected was how this fox found a liking to you, showed up randomly at places where you were and next thing you knew - you were falling, hard, for the man.

lost in you by @/jjkeverlast f s a

the infamous kim taehyung, campus fuckboy and heartthrob is much more than you thought after an unexpected night.

the dinner date by @diortae f (ao3)

pretending to be on a date with your best friend to get a free meal at the fancy restaurant jeongguk works weekends at doesn’t sound so terrible, all things considered. there’s just one small problem: you’re pretty sure you’re in love with the aforementioned best friend.

until yesterday by @jimlingss f s a

You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

the forsaken by @yoonia s a ft. knj

In order to save your people from the danger of drought and hunger, your father had sent you out on a mission across the ocean to find the heart of nature that could bring back the prosperity which your land had long lost. As the Chief’s daughter, you took the mission as your responsibility, even if you had to let the man that vexes you the most join you in your journey, even if you had to ignore the Elders’ warnings about the dangers and all the vicious monsters lying in wait.

blacklist by @httpjeon f s a ft. jjk

after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

1-800-music-street by @/httpjeon f s

↬you’re enchanted by a street performer and then he saves you, resulting in multiple meetings one can only describe as fate.

farner boy i love you by @strawberrynamjoon f s a

↬Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

waterloo by @/kinktae f s a

↬Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn't believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love."

get you the moon by @bymoonchild f s a

↬Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

fate of the fast & furious by @prolixitae f s

↬you’re a first-generation college student and taehyung is the hot guy with a love for motorbikes who lands the job babysitting for your family while you’re away.

fast & fearless: what comes first by @/prolixitae

↬taehyung is used to earning his keep through illegal street races, and he’s got every reason to win that upcoming promise of prize money for an old friend. but when the odds don’t fall in his favor, he turns to babysitting. enter, you: a first-generation college student with too much to lose to be spending all your time with a troublemaking biker. who also happens to babysit for your kid brother.

cobalt blue by @hobivore s ft. jjk

↬you ask Jungkook to draw you like one of his French girls. 

let it snow by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized.

muse by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary.

falling, falling gone by @johobi f

↬Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection. So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

new tricks by @geniuslab f s

↬When your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

guns & roses by @chateautae f s

↬he was cold-blooded, stone-faced and ruthless; a formidable force anyone in the criminal underworld sought to destroy. and he didn’t care, so long as it was never you.. anything but you.

saudade by @chateautae f s a

↬a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.

strands by @xjoonchildx s a

↬taehyung can't figure out how he got separated from his men, or how he ended up stranded in these woods -- hurt. the only thing he knows is that he has no choice but to rely on the beautiful, secretive stranger who's found him.

cheap skate by @/gukslut f s

↬Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting. 

definition of love by @taegularities f s a

↬When the gorgeous student from your literature class starts showing interest in you, you discover that there's much more to him than his know-it-all facade. But is this realization enough to get through your insecurities and secrets?

↬looking for other kth fics or the other members check out my library for more

[zerun0]

"Take My Hand" — Viktor x Y/N (Female)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I am more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

— ! WARNING NSFW(+18): ! — Sexual themes, Alternate reality, Dancing, Drunk , Sex, Flirting, Making out, Teasing, Vaginal.

— Word count: — 3.0k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The streets of Zaun buzzed with a unique energy that night. At Heimerdinger’s Zaunite academy, the halls that usually hummed with the clatter of experiment trays and whirring mechanisms were abandoned. Students and teachers alike had migrated to the glowing venue lit by an array of green and blue chem-lights. They swayed to music that rattled through makeshift speakers.

Y/N stood by the edge of the crowd, leaning against a post with her hands fidgeting at the hem of her simple, black dress. She had spent the better part of the evening people-watching. Powder and Ekko spun together in the center of the dance floor.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” — came a familiar, soft-spoken voice from beside her.

Y/N turned to find Viktor standing there, an almost shy tilt to his smile. He was dressed a little neater than his usual grease-smeared lab coat, though his cane and posture still set him apart from the crowd. A lock of brown hair fell across his forehead, and his golden eyes shone in the shifting light.

“I could ask you the same thing,” — Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m observing,” — he replied, slipping into his characteristic thoughtful tone. — “There’s... a beauty in the chaos. Don’t you think so?” Y/N chuckled. — “That’s one way to look at it. Though I think most people would call it a party.”

“And yet, you’re here, on the outskirts. Much like me.” — Viktor said softly, now closer to her ear. Her smile softened at his perceptive words.

Viktor always saw through the surface, always seemed to understand her in ways few others did. He had become more than a lab partner during their time at the academy. He was a confidant, an intellectual equal, and perhaps something more.

Before she could respond, Powder’s laughter erupted again, louder this time, drawing their attention. Ekko had twirled her, sending her braids flying as she stumbled with giddy delight. The scene pulled a smile from Y/N, and even Viktor’s lips quirked upward.

“You know,” — Y/N said, her voice gaining a teasing edge, — “if we’re going to stay here analyzing the ‘beauty of the chaos,’ we might as well join in.”

Viktor’s golden gaze met hers, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his expression. —“Dancing was never a skill I cultivated.”

“It’s not about skill,” — Y/N replied, holding out a hand. — “Come on, I will guide you…”

He hesitated only a moment before placing his hand in hers. His grip was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of hours spent tinkering in the lab. She led him to the edge of the dance floor, where they found a pocket of space just big enough for the two of them. The music was slower now, a dreamy, lilting melody that seemed to wrap around them.

Their movements were awkward at first. Viktor shifted his weight uncertainty, his cane tapping against the floor in a hesitant rhythm as he tried to find his footing. Y/N, attuned to his unease, kept her movements slow and deliberate, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder to guide him without imposing. Her other hand held his gently, touch warm and steady, like a lifeline.

“It’s just us,” — she said happily, her voice barely audible above the music. — “No one’s watching.”

Viktor glanced down at her, his golden eyes searching her face for reassurance. He exhaled slowly, nodding, and allowed himself to relax just a fraction. Y/N adjusted her position slightly, mindful of the weight he shifted onto his cane. She kept their steps simple, matching his pace and making sure to move with him rather than against him.

It wasn’t long before they found a rhythm, a tentative, almost fragile harmony at first, but one that grew stronger with each passing moment. Viktor followed her lead with quiet determination, his steps gaining confidence as the music wrapped around them. Y/N’s movements remained fluid and patient, every motion imbued with a tenderness that spoke of her deep care for him.

She offered a small, encouraging smile, and Viktor returned it, his golden eyes bright as the prettiest constellation in the night sky, a soft laugh escaping him. — “You’re remarkably good at this,” he admitted, voice tinged with both admiration and surprise.

“Good at what?” — she teased, her gaze twinkling. — “Dancing? Or making sure you don’t trip?”

“Both,” — he said, his tone warm and self-deprecating.

Y/N laughed, her fingers briefly tightening around his hand. — “You’re doing great, Viktor. Better than you think.”

They continued to sway, their movements becoming more natural as they settled into the music. The chem-lights around them painted their faces in shifting shades of blue and green, lending the moment an almost dreamlike quality. Y/N’s attention remained pointedly on him, her every step and shift an unspoken promise to keep him steady, to make this moment as effortless for him as possible.

And somewhere amidst the rhythm of their shared steps, Viktor let go of his apprehension, his focus shifting entirely to her. The world around them blurred, the thrumming bass and laughter

of the crowd fading into the background. In that moment, there was only Y/N. Her gentle smile, her steady guidance, and the warmth of her hand in his.

The song ended, and the crowd cheered, but Y/N barely noticed. Viktor leaned closer, his voice low. — “Would you like some air? This place is... quite warm.”

She nodded, suddenly aware of the heat rising in her cheeks. — “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They stepped out into the cool Zaunite night, where the hum of the city was a softer echo of the celebration inside. Viktor led her to a quiet alley, where the faint glow of the lights still painted the walls in hues of green and blue. Turning towards her, his expression was more serious now, though his gaze held that same warmth she’d come to cherish.

“You’re incredible, you know,” — he said softly, the words tumbling out like they had been waiting for this moment. — “Not just in the lab. The way you see the world, the way you make it brighter. I... I admire you more than I can put into words.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest. — “Viktor...”

He closed the distance between them, his movements hesitant, as though afraid he might break the moment. When their lips met, it was soft and tentative.

Viktor’s fingers brushed her cheek timid but deliberate, his thumb tracing the faint curve of her jaw. — “You’re... mesmerizing,” — he murmured, his voice low and rough, like a secret meant only for her.

Her breath caught at the raw honesty in his tone. Without thinking, she closed the small gap between them again, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was deeper, more insistent than before. Viktor hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning into her, his hand sliding into her hair as he returned her fervor.

The kiss intensified, and Y/N pressed closer, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. She could feel the faint tremor in his touch, the careful control he always carried giving way to something more passionate. His cane slipped slightly as he adjusted his stance, and Y/N instinctively steadied him, hands gripping his waist as if anchoring him to her. “Sorry,” — he murmured against her lips, a faint chuckle escaping him.

“Don’t be,” — she whispered, her voice soft yet firm. —“I’ve got you.” Her reassurance seemed to embolden him. Viktor’s free arm slipped around her back, drawing her flush against him. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat blooming between them, their breaths mingling in the narrow space they left between kisses. Their foreheads touched as a faint cheer erupted from the party nearby, reminding them of where they were.

“I believe we might be missed,” — he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair back.

Y/N grinned, her lips still tingling. — “Then we should make an appearance, shouldn’t we?”

With a nod, Viktor stepped back, and together they returned to the party. The music had shifted to a livelier tune, Powder and Ekko still at the center of it all, their laughter echoing above the beat. Y/N and Viktor wove through the crowd, the vivid energy brushing past them as they made their way to the bar set up in one corner of the room.

The bartender, a Zaunite teen you had meet in the academy as he studied mixology, you knew him for his friendly grin and a knack for mixing drinks. — “What’ll it be?”— The young man asked. “Something simple,” — Y/N said with a smile, glancing at Viktor —“Two ales?”

Viktor nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. — “Up to you.”

Two mugs of amber ale were slid across the counter. Y/N picked hers up, taking a long sip, the slightly bitter, malty flavor a welcome contrast to the sugary concoctions often found at parties like this. Viktor took a more measured sip, his expression thoughtful as he savored the drink.

“It’s good,” — he said, sounding almost surprised.

“Told you,” — Y/N replied, nudging her shoulder with his.

They found a quieter spot near the edge of the crowd, their shoulders brushing as they watched the festivities. Powder had dragged Ekko into another wild spin, her energy uncontainable, while others clapped and cheered them on, even the professor was there having a blast watching his young brilliant inventors.

“It’s nice,” — Y/N said after a moment, her voice softer. — “Seeing everyone like this. Happy, carefree for a change.”

Viktor nodded, though his gaze was fixed on her rather than the crowd. — “It is. Though I admit, I find the quieter moments more... meaningful.”

She looked up at him, catching the warmth in his eyes, and felt her cheeks flush. —“Me too,” — she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth of the ale in her chest mixed with the gentle buzz of his presence beside her. After a moment, she tilted her head toward him, a playful smile curving her lips. — “What do you say we finish these and find somewhere quieter?”

He raised an eyebrow. — “Are you suggesting an escape?”

“Maybe” ——

The door creaked open, a loud bang echoing through the halls.

The small room was dimly lit, a single lamp casting a soft yellow glow over the cluttered desk and neatly made bed. Then it clicked shut behind them, as the air between them shifted, the lingering alcohol stripping away the last of their hesitations.

Y/N turned to Viktor, her back against the door. — “Finally,” — she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Their lips met again, and this time there was no hesitation, no careful deliberation. The kiss was deep and unrestrained, their pent-up longing spilling over as their hands roamed freely. Y/N’s fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly as she worked to undo them. Viktor’s hands slid down her sides, his touch firm yet reverent, as though he couldn’t believe she was truly here with him.

His shirt fell open, revealing the lean lines of his torso, and Y/N’s hands traced the contours of his skin, her touch igniting a fire wherever it landed. Viktor let out a soft groan, his head dipping to press kisses along her jaw and down the column of her neck. Her breath hitched as his lips found a sensitive spot, and she tilted her head to give him better access.

Her own dress was next, the fabric slipping from her shoulders and pooling at her feet. Viktor’s golden eyes roamed over her, his breath catching as he took her in.

Y/N tugged him closer, her lips finding his again as they stumbled toward the bed. They fell onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, their kisses growing hungrier, more urgent.

Her response was a soft gasp as his hand found her bare thigh, his touch firm yet careful, as though he was savoring every moment. She pushed herself up slightly, her eyes meeting his as she began to undo the belt of his trousers. He stilled for a moment, watching her with a mixture of awe and vulnerability, before his hands came up to cover hers, guiding her movements.

They worked together to shed the rest of their clothes, their touches growing bolder, their kisses more demanding as each layer was discarded. When they were finally skin to skin, Viktor hesitated, his golden eyes searching hers.

Y/N cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. — “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” — she whispered back, her voice steady and filled with conviction.

He allowed himself a genuine smile that melted her heart, before leaning down to kiss her again.

Viktor’s hand slid down to the curve of your thigh, lifting it gently to wrap around his waist. His other hand steadied himself as he shifted his weight, positioning himself between her legs. The heat of him made her breath hitch, silently urging him closer.

“Plea-ase,” — she whispered, your voice breathy, laced with longing.

Viktor’s control snapped. He pushed forward with a deliberate, smooth motion, the head of his length pressing into her, filling her inch by inch. The stretch of him sent a sharp thrill through her, her body arching instinctively to meet his. A soft gasp escaped both of them as he fully seated himself inside her, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

“You don’t have to be gentle…” — she murmured. — "I like it as rough as you can be..."

"O-Ok" — Viktor groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping her waist as he began to move. His thrusts started slow, deliberate, each one igniting a spark that built into a flame. The rhythm of his hips soon grew more urgent, matching the way her body responded to him, her moans filling the air between them. — “Y/N,” — he whispered, his voice strained with effort and desire.

He pressed kisses along her neck, his lips lingering at her pulse point, where her racing heartbeat betrayed her pleasure.

She ran her fingers along his back, her nails grazing his skin as his movements became deeper, more insistent. His cane clattered to the floor, forgotten, as his focus remained solely on her.

The world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them locked in a shared rhythm. Viktor’s lips found hers again in a kiss that was messy and desperate, their bodies moving in perfect sync. His thrusts grew harder, faster, her moans mingling with his as the tension inside her built to a breaking point.

When his hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core, she cried out his name. The pleasure overwhelmed her, her body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over.

His movements faltered, his body tensing as he groaned her name in return. His release followed, his hips jerking as he spilled into her, the heat of him filling her completely. He buried his face against her shoulder, his breaths ragged as the two of them trembled in the aftermath, still entwined.

The room was quiet now, save for the sound of their breathing and the distant hum of the city beyond. Viktor lifted his head, his golden eyes soft as they met hers. His hand brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering.

The afterglow wrapped them in a warm, quiet cocoon, the kind where the world outside ceased to exist. Viktor rolled onto his side, pulling Y/N with him beneath the blanket they had hastily tugged up to cover their bare bodies. The fabric was soft and warm, a barrier between them and the cool air of the room.

Her body molded perfectly against his, skin to skin, their breaths slowing as the tension faded into a deep, shared comfort. Y/N traced idle circles on his chest with her fingertips, her touch light and soothing. Viktor hummed at the sensation, his arms wrapped securely around her, anchoring them both in this fragile, intimate moment.

“Tonight was … incredible, you truly are one of a kind,” — she whispered, her voice soft but filled with emotion.

His lips pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his golden eyes heavy-lidded but adoring as they met hers. — “And you,” — he murmured, his tone carrying a mix of awe and gratitude, — “you’ve made me feel... whole.”

She smiled, nuzzling into his chest. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, neither needing to speak, simply content in each other’s presence.

Then, a soft, scrabbling noise broke the silence. Y/N stiffened for a moment before a chuckle bubbled up in her throat.

“Oh no,” — she said, her voice filled with amusement.

Before Viktor could ask, a small, fuzzy creature leaped up onto the bed. Her poro, a round, fluffy ball of enthusiasm, bounded over the blanket and started sniffing curiously at the new presence.

“Is this...?” —Viktor began, but he didn’t get to finish. The poro, clearly delighted, jumped onto Viktor’s chest and started licking his face with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“Ah! Hey !” — he exclaimed, laughing as the poro’s tiny tongue covered his cheek. He tried to fend it off with one hand while keeping the blanket modestly draped with the other.

Y/N couldn’t stop laughing, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she watched the usually composed Viktor flail under the tiny, relentless attacker. — “I think she likes you,” —she teased, reaching out to scoop the poro up. The creature chirped happily, snuggling into her arms but keeping its bright, beady eyes fixed on Viktor, as though sizing him up for future antics.

Viktor wiped his face with the edge of the blanket, his laughter subsiding into a soft smile. — “I’m glad to have made such an impression,” —he said dryly, though the warmth in his gaze betrayed how much he enjoyed the moment.

Y/N leaned in to kiss his cheek, her lips brushing the spot where the poro had been. — “She knows a good one when she sees it,” — she whispered, her voice tender.

The poro settled between them as if declaring itself part of their little haven, its contented purring filling the room.

“Barely a moment’s peace,” — he joked, though his tone was light and filled with affection.

Y/N grinned, resting her head against his shoulder. — “Wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

[uncannydevotion]

“ we haven't found one lipstick that's kiss proof! ”

a/n: based on tht one art meme going around iykyk anyways happy holidays, and merry christmas if u celebrate! nd happy day to everyone else! enjoy this lil gift <3 i wanted to get it out today so it might b a little rushed, and definitely shorter than i would like but i still like it so. i'm posting it.

includes: homicidal liu, eyeless jack, jason the toymaker, nina the killer, and jeff the killer.

warnings: gn!reader but it's assumed u wear lipstick, italics my beloved, so much fluff it'll make u sick, lots of kissing. is kiss even a word anymore. it's short, with varying different lengths, and it's sweet this time for real i promise.

HOMICIDAL LIU

Perhaps a bit confused when you ask him to help find some kiss proof lipsticks, but nonetheless willing to help. He just assumes you wanted to go out to a cosmetic store or something to find some.

He's very confused when you drag him over to the couch and tell him to stay put while you gather every tube of lipstick you have.

He's oblivious guys okay you're his first relationship ever how is he supposed to know you're about to smother him to death with kisses?

Liu will be a bit caught off guard when you place the first kiss on his cheek, your lips gentle, mindful of the sensitive skin surrounding his scars.

"What was that for?" He'll ask. And maybe you'll give a cheeky smile and respond with something like, "I'm just testing out my lipstick, babe."

And oh. Oh. That's what you meant when you said you wanted his help.

Liu is nothing if not the greatest boyfriend haver, so even though he gets increasingly more flustered with each kiss you press against his skin, he stays painfully still so as to not interrupt you.

Every time you pressed a kiss against his skin, he'd let out a little sigh. It was rare for him to ever really feel at ease, but it came easy with you.

Sometimes, he wonders if you truly understood the gravity of the love he felt for you.

Each kiss makes his heart race faster and faster, so much so that when you place one last kiss against his lips, he's so overwhelmed by the amount of love he holds for you that Sully thinks he's fucking dying and takes over.

Sully is very confused when he finds that Liu was, in fact, not dying. And you're certainly no help, just smiling and telling him to wash his face off as you clean up.

What.

One look in the mirror gives him the answer he was looking for. His entire face was covered in lipstick stains. This is what had Liu's heart racing so much? Sully really thought he was dying, man.

Turns out the guy is just an idiot in love.

EYELESS JACK

One of the only ones here to really understand what you meant when you asked him for help in finding a kiss proof lipstick, already taking his mask off.

He didn't have anything better to do, and he liked how your eyes lit up when he agreed, so.

He'll sit patiently, watching as you set out all of your lipsticks, setting them out in a color-coded pattern.

Jack will take this very seriously, I think. You won't really be able to get him flustered, because he's determined to figure out if you have any kiss proof lipstick. He's a man on a mission.

Every time you kiss him, he'll pull away from you and look at himself in a mirror to study how visible the stain is. The less he can see it, the better he thinks the lipstick is.

If anything, he'll end up flustering you from the way he'll grab your cheeks and press his thumb against your lip, rubbing the lipstick gently to see how much pressure it takes for it to transfer.

He's not doing this on purpose, he just... doesn't realize the effect he has on you. But between you and me, he's 100% teasing you.

He's the one covered in kisses, and yet you're the one shying away from him and getting all embarrassed. Seems your plan to fluster him backfired.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" You would ask.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're the one who asked for help." Would be his response.

Somehow you end up with more marks on your skin than he does?? Since you get to kiss him a bunch, he doesn't see why he can't kiss you back. And maybe he bites a lil, idk.

This will either end with you scurrying away, or with him pouncing you and abandoning the lipstick. Make your choice.

JASON THE TOYMAKER

He's busy tinkering with a new creation when you enter his workshop carrying every single lipstick you own.

He's too focused on his own work to really pay attention to you, so he just mutters a vague 'yeah' when he hears you ask a question, not really catching anything you said.

Jason's only vaguely aware that you're in the same room as him as he leans forward, brows pinched together as he focuses on stitching up a small stuffed animal.

It's not until he feels you resting your hand on his shoulder, pulling him back slightly and pressing a kiss against his cheek that he's brought to reality.

Just sits there, confused for the longest second, his hand coming up to his cheek where he had felt your lips. He's not against the sudden affection by any means, he's just a bit curious as to why you were suddenly giving him so many kisses.

When you explain how you're trying to find kiss proof lipstick, he lets out a small 'oh' and he goes back to his work.

Or, at least, he tries to get back to his work.

But you continue placing little kisses against his skin every few minutes, and it's making it really hard to focus, and he can feel his face getting hotter and hotter the longer this goes on.

Jason fucking loves you, okay? He tells you it multiple times a day. You are the one for him. So you smothering him with a bunch of kisses has him feeling all soft and gooey inside.

Whatever the hell he was working on before was no longer important to him, his gaze now seemingly glued to you and every little move you make as he leans back in his chair, basking in your attention.

Like hell he'll let you leave when you run out of lipstick.

You doomed yourself the moment you walked into his workshop to even start this little game.

He'll be dragging you down onto his lap and will refuse to let you go until he's had his fill of you. Which could be like... all day. Jason could never get tired of you.

NINA THE KILLER

Hell yeah!! She's been meaning to go through her lipsticks too, so she takes this as an opportunity to do that.

She definitely makes it into a game as well, I think.

You two will trade lipsticks without looking at the labels, and you'd both have to guess who was wearing what lipstick based on the shade and the feel.

The two of you trade kisses, lipstick stains covering her cheeks and your jaw and neck.

She really did just want to find a kiss proof lipstick, but each kiss had her letting out a small giggle.

And she knew you were teasing her, always leaning in for her lips before dodging and pressing another kiss against her cheek.

All that teasing had her feeling flustered, and she just wanted you to stop messing around and kiss her lips already. So when you put on a new thing of lipstick, she doesn't even give you a chance to do anything before she's pulling you closer and slamming her lips against yours.

You probably planned for this to happen, she thinks, but she didn't really care much.

You don't need an excuse to kiss her silly, you just gotta do it.

And when the two of you finally break the kiss, you're both breathless. Lipstick stains your skin, and both of your lips were smeared.

Nina didn't even care about the little game you two had been playing anymore, her hands resting on your cheeks.

She thought you looked stunning like this.

And it's not like you two had any pressing matters to attend to, so she didn't hesitate before leaning in for another kiss.

JEFF THE KILLER

When you had asked him for help with finding a 'kiss proof' lipstick, he honestly didn't understand why. Like... did you want him to put the lipstick on and kiss napkins with you? And why would you need his help doing that anyways?

He would've said no, if you hadn't asked really nicely.

Definitely grumbling about how dumb he thought this was as you get everything together.

Someone would probably assume you had a gun to his head or something from the way he looked as if he didn't want to be there, arms crossed and somehow frowning even though his scars made it look strange.

It really isn't until you place the first kiss against his cheek that he finally shuts up.

Oh. So this is what you had planned?

Truth be told, Jeff wasn't that big a fan of affection unless he was initiating it, but... he supposes he could let it slide, just this once. Especially after you press another kiss to his cheek.

You could never get this man to admit that he's enjoying this, but it's not like he was doing a good job at hiding it, either.

The frown he had was gone, replaced by a smile he was barely able to conceal. Do not point out the smile, he will leave the room if you do.

Each kiss you give him makes his heart race faster and faster, and when you're wiping off the last lipstick you have, talking about how you've yet to find a kiss proof one, Jeff is an utter mess.

He's got his face buried in his hands, cursing to himself for being so weak when it came to you.

Fuck, he really loves you.

[youreverydayfangirl]

ENDGAME

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where new beginnings are made, a second championship is one and she allows herself to fall

warning: self doubt

a/n: hey guyssss

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 20 others

y/nsprivate BACK IN THE STUDIO

jimmyandsassysdad when she writes songs about you>>

-> y/nsprivate STOP YOUR SO CUTE

livbereallydumb NEW MUSIC???

-> y/nsprivate new beginnings.

thatoneartgirlalex this new album is gonna hit so hard

-> y/nsprivate dont you know it babes

-----

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 25 others

y/nsprivate hes actually gorgeous omg

leosfather THE ARMS 🥵

-> y/nsprivate pack it up leclerc

keekslikestospamm CAUGHT Y/N THIRSTING 🫵

-> y/nsprivate EVERYDAY OF THE WEEK EVERYWHERE

livbereallydumb if gizmo likes him i like him

-> y/nsprivate dont we know it

thatoneartgirlalex he better treat you well

-> y/nsprivate he does dont worry ❤️

-------------------------------

Y/n’s screen lit up, and her heart did a small flip at the sight of Max’s name. She swiped to answer, and his face filled her screen, looking more tense than usual, his hair a bit messy as he ran a hand through it.

“Hey, champ,” she greeted with a gentle smile, trying to ease the tension she saw in his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Max managed a small smile back, but it was laced with nerves. “Tomorrow’s just… it’s everything, you know? I can’t think straight.” He paused, exhaling, his eyes darting down as if ashamed. “I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’ve never felt this... tense.”

Y/n’s expression softened. “It’s all riding on tomorrow, huh?”

He nodded, a faint flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. “If I mess it up… after everything…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away for a moment. “I want this more than anything, but it’s like every thought I have is just making it worse.”

She tilted her head, voice gentle. “Max, you’ve been incredible all season. Everyone can see how much you’ve given, but right now… it’s okay to be nervous. It just means you care.”

His eyes met hers, searching, almost as if he wanted to believe her. “But what if I fail?”

She sighed softly, offering him a warm smile. “Then you get back up and try again, just like you always do. And no matter what, I'm by your side, I promise”

He gave a small nod, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Thank you, Schatje. I just… I needed to hear that.”

She grinned, voice playful. “Of course, and besides, when you win tomorrow, I can say that you were calling me the night before all cute and nervous”

Max chuckled, some of the tension leaving his expression. “If I win tomorrow, the first call I’m making is to you.”

“Good,” she replied, giving him a reassuring look. “Because I’ll be here, cheering you on. Now, get some rest, champ. You’re going to be amazing.”

For the first time, he looked like he believed her. “Thanks, Y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As the light from her phone flickered off, Y/n looked at the dark interior of the hotel room she was currently in, The only glow came from the Abu Dhabi cityscape beyond her window, casting a soft, hazy light across the room.

-----------------------

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 25 others

y/nsprivate changed it up guys - ill always be a ferrari girl at heart

leosfather NO TRAITOR

-> y/nsprivate ITS FOR A GOOD CAUSE

jimmyandsassysdad never gonna understand how i got so lucky

-> y/nsprivate aww i love you

-> y/jimmyandsassysdad being world champion <<having you

-> y/nsprivate aww i love you 😭😭

-> leosfather CAP

-> y/nsprivate I HATE YOU

keekslikestospamm Y/N OMFG

-> y/nsprivate 🤷

thatoneartgirlalex NEVER SEEN YOU IN ANYTHING BUT RED BABES

-> y/nsprivate red girl at heart always❤️

---------------

"Y/nn." Y/ns head spun around to see where Alex was standing at the gate, coming to let her in. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she made her way over to meet Alex. She hadn't told Max she was coming, she wanted it to be a surprise if he won. The buzz of the paddock was electric, the air charged with energy, and everywhere she turned, familiar faces were moving through the crow. Y/n moved her cap lower and adjusted her sunglasses. More so for her comfort.

Alex grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug. "Kika is somewhere around, I think Pierre is running a little late." Y/n nodded uncomfortable, the tension in her body high. "Hey." Alex said, drawing Y/ns attention back to her. "Everythings fine okay, and think about the look on Max's face when he sees you."

Y/n gave her a grateful smile but was still nervous. As hard as Max had been fighting, Lando had crawled his way up the standings and it was a fight to the death.

The pair made it to the familiar garage, and Y/n felt the tension leave her body at the comfort it brought her. A few paces ahead, she spotted Charles chatting with some mechanics, throwing her a quick grin when he noticed her. After he finished what he was saying, he made his way over to the girls, planting a quick kiss on Alex's cheek.

“Nice disguise,” Charles teased, noticing her cap and sunglasses. “Max will be thrilled when he sees you.” He pulled her into a quick hug before running back off the his mechanics.

The two girls made their way over to the Alpine garage where Kika had just arrived. She was muttering something in portuguese when her eyes locked on the girls.

"Never on time." She said rolling her eyes as she pulled the pair into a hug. All three of them laughed at that.

As the three girls engaged in conversation, Y/n found her self zoning out a little.

“Still good?” Alex murmured beside her, nudging her lightly.

She nodded, steadying herself. “Yeah, all good. Just… here for Max.”

Kika squeezed her hand with a knowing smile. “Then let's make sure it stays a surprise. He’s going to be thrilled when he sees you.”

As they moved through the paddock, Y/n’s heart pounded with anticipation, mind focused on the green eyed man she had fallen deeply for.

The three walked on, their voices blending with the hum of the crowd. Y/n kept her head low, hoping the brim of her cap would be enough to keep her from running into anyone who might recognize her. But, as fate would have it, the moment she rounded a corner, she accidentally brushed shoulders with someone.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, stepping to the side, her eyes firmly on the ground.

“No worries,” came the familiar voice. It took a moment for her to register it fully, but when she did, her stomach twisted. Lando. Her heart raced as she kept her face turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She could feel his gaze linger on her a second too long, like he was trying to place her.

She felt his eyes on her as she started walking away, her pulse thudding in her ears, but she willed herself not to look back.

“Y/n?” Lando’s voice followed, tentative, as though he couldn’t quite believe it. She quickened her pace, hoping the crowd would swallow her up before he got a chance to catch up. But his voice called after her again, firmer this time. “Y/n, wait!”

But she didn’t stop. Alex and Kika shared quick glances before positioning themselves beside her, subtly shielding her as they continued through the paddock. She tried to steady her breath, focusing on Max and the reason she’d come here today.

“You’re okay,” Alex whispered, leaning close, her tone comforting but firm. “He doesn’t need to be part of today.”

Kika gave her hand another squeeze, a silent reminder that she had people around her who understood. They pressed on, eventually arriving at the garage, where Y/n felt the comfort of familiarity wash over her. Lando’s voice was lost in the crowd behind her, and she took a deep breath, knowing that this moment wasn’t about the past. It was about being here, now, for Max.

The last ten minutes of the race were a blur of intensity. Max and Lando were neck-and-neck, battling it out on the track like two lions. Every overtake and every turn had the crowd on their feet, and the tension was palpable. Y/n felt her pulse pounding in sync with the roaring engines, each corner threatening to shift the race's outcome. Her hands were clasped tightly, white-knuckled as she watched the screen, Alex and Kika mirroring her tension beside her.

“Come on, Max,” she whispered, her eyes glued to the screen as the cars hit the final lap. Lando had pulled slightly ahead on the last corner, but Max was right on his tail.

The team radios crackled with updates, and she caught snippets of Max’s voice, tense but determined. He was pushing the car to its limits, using every ounce of focus to close the gap between him and Lando. She knew he could feel it, the weight of the championship riding on his next move.

Max’s car edged closer, drafting behind Lando to reduce the air resistance as they hurtled down the straightaway. The gap between them was shrinking. Just as they approached the final few turns, Max made his move, diving down the inside, daringly close to the wall.

The crowd erupted as he edged past Lando, his car taking the lead by the narrowest margin. It was heart-stopping, and for a brief moment, Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she watched, hardly daring to blink.

“Come on, come on,” Alex murmured beside her, her hands gripping Y/n’s arm.

Max’s car crossed the final corner in front, accelerating down the home stretch with Lando mere inches behind him. It was all or nothing. Y/n held her breath, the crowd’s roar filling her ears as Max’s car hurtled toward the finish line.

“Max Verstappen wins the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and the World Championship!” The commentator’s voice rang out, echoed by cheers and applause from every corner of the circuit. Max had done it. He’d crossed the line first.

Y/n’s vision blurred with tears of relief and overwhelming pride as she watched him slow down, the realization settling on his face even through his helmet as he punched the air in victory. The entire team erupted in celebration, people rushing forward, and she felt herself swept along, her heart so full she could barely contain it.

She barely registered the tears slipping down her face as she laughed, catching a glimpse of him stepping out of his car, arms raised in triumph. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, but through it all, she felt a magnetic pull, the thrill of knowing she’d be there when he turned around. She wanted to be the first face he saw when he celebrated the dream he’d just made real.

The atmosphere at the podium was electric. Max stood in the center, his face still flushed with the adrenaline and euphoria of victory, the World Champion trophy gleaming in his hands. Confetti rained down in a glittering storm as fans cheered and waved flags. Y/n watched him from the sidelines, her heart pounding with an indescribable mix of pride, relief, and love.

As he looked out over the crowd, Max’s eyes finally landed on her, hidden among the sea of people but unmistakably there. His expression softened, and in that moment, a private smile crossed his face. She raised her hand in a small wave, feeling her own grin tug at her lips despite the tears gathering in her eyes.

Max took a deep breath, lifting a bottle of champagne and twisting off the cork, sending it flying into the air. The bubbly spray erupted, drenching the mechanics nearby. Lando wiped a droplet off his cheek, unable to suppress a hint of a smile at the chaos, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed his mixed feelings.

Back at the garage, the celebratory atmosphere still buzzed with excitement, but now it felt more intimate. Max pushed through the group of mechanics and team members, his heart racing not just from the victory but from the anticipation of seeing Y/n again. As he turned a corner, he spotted her leaning against a wall, her smile brighter than the confetti that had rained down just moments ago.

“Y/n!” Max exclaimed, rushing toward her. He enveloped her in a tight embrace, lifting her slightly off the ground. The warmth of her presence was intoxicating, and he could hardly believe she had made it.

“You did it! I can’t believe you’re the World Champion!” Y/n said, her voice bubbling with joy. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks,” he replied, beaming down at her. “I couldn’t have done it without you Mijn liefje.” He leaned in closer, whispering, “You’re my lucky charm.”

They shared a tender moment, eyes locked, the world around them fading into a blur. It felt like time stood still, and all the tension from the race melted away in the warmth of their presence. In that moment, what Y/n had already been thinking was solidified, he was her endgame.

------------

formula1 has posted

liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 7, 291, 103 others

formula1 Max Verstappen is the 2024 World Champion for the 4th consecutive year in a row.

tagged: maxverstappen1

charlesleclerc 🎉🎉

redbullracing CONGRATULATIONS MAX!!

landonorris good job mate

-> user1 i just know he was in pain

user2 well earned!

user3 lando should have one

-> user4 grow up

user5 so no ones gonna talk about the way max was smiling at someone when he was no the podium

-> user6 no he was just happy

-> user7 no he was definetly looking at someone

-> user8 RIGHT!

-> user9 LOOK AT HIS RECENT POST OMG

user10 why is no one talking about the fact than Y/n Y/ln was there

-> user11 WAIT WHAT

-> user12 yeah my cousin was there an shes a HUGE y/n stan and she said she saw Y/n with Alex and Kika

-> user13 😱😱

-> user13 proof??

maxverstappen1 has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 11, 293, 293 others

maxverstappen1 FOURTH WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!! I couldn't have done it without you my love 🖤

user1 THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING

user2 WHO IS IT

charlesleclerc shes definitely giggling and kicking her feet

-> alexandrasaintmleux can confirm i just heard her scream

-> maxverstappen1 😂😂

user3 what does the black heart mean?!

-> user4 🤔🤔

-------------------

The night was electric as Max and Y/n entered the club, the pulse of the music matching the racing rhythm still echoing in their hearts. The atmosphere was alive with celebration; lights flashed in vibrant colors, and laughter echoed off the walls. Streamers adorned the ceilings, remnants of the day’s earlier festivities, creating a glamorous backdrop for the night ahead.

Max, still riding high from his victory, squeezed Y/n’s hand as they made their way through the crowd. She felt a mix of excitement and nervousness; the energy around them was contagious. As they reached the center of the club, they were greeted by a chorus of cheers from their friends, who had gathered to celebrate his win.

“Max!” Pierre called out, raising a bottle of champagne as he waved them over. “You made it! We were starting to wonder if you’d show up!”

Max grinned, pulling Y/n closer to him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

The group enveloped them, and Y/n felt the warmth of camaraderie wash over her. Daniel handed Max a drink, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. “To the champion!” he shouted, and Charles raised his glass in agreement. “You earned this!”

They made their way to the dance floor, surrounded by friends and the infectious beats of the music. As they danced, it felt like the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them. Max pulled her in close, their bodies moving in sync, the rhythm of the music guiding them.

Y/n laughed as Max spun her around, her hair whipping through the air. She felt free, unburdened by the past and the weight of expectations. In that moment, all that mattered was their connection, the joy of celebrating his hard-earned victory.

“Can you believe it? You’re the World Champion!” Y/n shouted over the music, her voice filled with exhilaration.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” he replied, his eyes sparkling.

The song shifted to a slower beat, and Max wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “Thank you for being here,” he said softly, his gaze sincere. “You really are my lucky charm.”

They swayed together, the world around them blurring into insignificance. For Y/n, it felt like the beginning of something beautiful.

As the night wore on, laughter and cheers filled the air, and the celebration continued. Y/n found herself lost in the moment, reveling in the energy of the club and the warmth of Max by her side. Her heart was full of him, she didn't think she could ever get enough.

---------

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, that oneartgirlalex and 26 others

y/nsprivate the king of my heart 🖤

jimmyandsassysdad 🖤

---------------------

just got back from a party and realised i forgot to post <3

this is prolly shit but whatever

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[sweetblossomsss]

I’ll be back || CHOI SAN

Synopsis: You don’t understand what happened for him to suddenly disappear. You don’t understand why the police tells you there is no one by the name of Choi San— as if he never existed. You don’t understand why he came back to you, five years later.

WARNINGS: one shot, cursing, crying (lots), ANGST (my fav), fluff, happy ending, SMUT, rough sex, choking, pet name of baby to Y/N, drinking, drunkenness, throwing things, San was affiliated with a gang, Y/N owns a gun, oral (f receiving), mentions of San’s gruesome crimes, back and forth between Y/N and San (ish), Y/N take San back way too easily (lmao), throwing up (only once), I’m sure I’m missing some stuff just lmk. San's POV POSTED

Word Count: 12k Started: February 2024. Finished: Nov 29, 2024

Blossom’s Note: Hello my petals, hope all is good. Coming at you with a Choi San one shot. Title was inspired by 2pm’s I’ll be back (chefs kiss song). Story was inspired by both the song and the line in John Wick when the father told the son that in order for him to get out, he had to do the impossible. Please keep in mind that this is no where near the same as the movie nor will any killings be mentioned. Now grab some popcorn and a drink and enjoy!

PAST

Silence takes over the room while the distant, muffled voices of your neighbors outside your apartment speak amongst themselves in the hallway, radiating some noise in the room. Dogs in different apartments barked at them, alerting everyone in the complex that people are walking by. Soon the faint sounds of keys jiggling can be heard as they stepped into their respective home and then—complete silence.

The room was dimly lit by your lamp with a fading bulb on its last life—that you always forget to change. You laid on your stomach, resting your head on your arms that was propped on top of your cushioned pillow as you slowly kicked your legs up and down, staring into his eyes as if you were locked in a trance by his gaze.

His fingers traced caressing patterns on your back, making you bit your lower lip gently as you felt the goosebumps form on your skin. He was lying on his side, his hand propped up to hold his head as he other hand roamed your back lovingly.

He gives you a small smirk, nodding his head to signal you to get on top of him. “Come here.” He said in a low voice as he laid on his back, placing an arm behind his head to get a good view of you on top. His favorite view.

You felt giddy inside, smiling as you got up. You quickly threw a leg over, straddling him. He wasted no time in gliding his free hand from your thigh to your ass giving it a slight squeeze. You placed your hands on his chest for support to which he slide the same hand up your arm and cups the side of your face.

You two stare into each other, all mesmerized as he caressed your cheek with his thumb causing you to lean into his touch. You closed your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand radiating on your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said in a sweet voice. You opened your eyes to catch him already looking into your eyes. “I could stay in this moment forever,” he said watching you slightly turn to the side as you kissed his palm. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him as you ghost your lips over his, “Just you and me.”

Oh, the way your stomach flips at his words especially when he talks in a low tone. He removes the hand behind his head, placing both of them under your shirt wanting to feel your skin, scrunching up your oversized shirt a little bit from his caressing movements.

You hummed in agreement, “Just you and me.” You repeated, pecking his lips once, “Forever.” You said before leaning back down to capture his lips. You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, wanting to feel you closer—if that was even possible.

You moan slightly into his mouth, feeling the kiss starting to pick up. He cups your ass, giving it a nice squeeze as you raised your hand up to his hair tugging slightly making him moan in delight. Just as this moment was starting to heat up and get spicy—“Let’s runaway.” He breaks the kiss.

You looked at him, he was panting slightly trying to catch his breath as his eyes gleamed a bit. You panted as you sat up, tilting your head to the side, “What?” You asked with a playful smile on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows.

Did he really leave you hot and bothered to say some stupid shit? Leave it to San to cockblock the fuck out of the both of you with his random thoughts.

He sits up, adjusting himself underneath you as he wraps his arms around your waist again as your hands make home in his hair as you caressed it. “You heard me,” he said, “let’s runaway. Just you and me, mm? What do you think?” He said ask he peppered kissed on your neck.

You chuckled at his words, tilting your head more as he kept leaving kisses on your neck down to your collarbone, “what I think is that you’re dumb. Did you really stop us for that?” You laughed, reaching to cup his face as you looked down at him. He nodded, “I’m being serious!” He pouted at you.

You sighed. “Okay. Say we were to,” you say playing along with his idea,“where would we go?” You asked him, leaning down to kiss away his pout.

He looks back and forth between your eyes, smirking as he flips you onto your back causing you yelp in surprise. “Anywhere you want to go,” he grabs your legs, wanting to feel them wrapped around him, “Whatever you want,” He says leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “I’ll do it for you.” His kisses trail down to your jaw. “Anything you want.” Down your neck as he caressed your leg.

You licked your lips and slightly moan at the sensation. “Mmm, anything?” You asked him raising an eyebrow as you tilt your head to look at him. “Anything, baby.” He looked up from the crook of your neck.

You shook your head, “You’re so silly. You know we can’t do that.” You smiled at him but then turned serious, “Plus can you even afford me? I’m quite expensive.” You lifted your hand up, examining your nails acting all snobby like turning your head to the side.

He pauses for a second, sitting up. He scoffs, “Excuse me?” Hand on his chest feigning to be offended.

You looked at him and eyed him up and down, playfully judging him and shrugged, “I have expensive taste and demands that need to met.” You said crossing your arms.

“Hit me with whatever you want. I can afford it.” He extends his arms out to the side as if saying do-you-know-who-the-fuck-I-am.

You scoffed, eyeing him up and down, “I don’t want to work.”

“Done.”

“I want to be a housewife.”

“Done.”

“I want different color Lamborghinis to match my moods for the day.”

“Done.”

“I want a private chef. I want to be carried everywhere.”

“Done and done.”

You two stayed silent, looking at each other with a serious look before bursting into laughter. The laughter you two created sounded like the most beautiful music to your ears. You loved having these silly moments with him.

While the laughter subsided, San places his hands on each side of your head, leaning forward. ”Y/N,” He says, your hands slide up and down his muscular arms. “Let’s just do it, huh? We can go and get married,” He places a kiss on your lips, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “we can have six kids-“

“Six?! The fuc-“ you cut him off with widen eyes, raising both of your eyebrows.

“They will have your sparkling eyes, your beautiful smile,” he cuts you off, ignoring you which caused you to roll your eyes, “they can have my nose, maybe my eyebrows or ears. We can raise them the best we can, we can put them sports, watch them get married, travel when they all leave the house, be the best grandparents ever-“ he cuts himself off as he clears his throat, feeling a bit saddened, but you’re too distracted by his story to catch onto it. “We can grow old together and be buried next to each other. With that, we stay together forever.”

You cup his cheek, “Seems like you got this all figured out, huh?” You smiled at him. “How did a girl like me get so lucky?”

“Oh, baby,” he said in a matter of factly tone, “With me you won’t have to think or worry about anything.” He smirked at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it.

There was a moment of silence as you two looked into each other’s eyes all in love. But then San got off of you which made you confused as you furrowed your eyebrows. “San? What are you doing?” You asked him, confused by his actions as his back faces you.

You sit up and sat in the middle of the bed, about to reach out of him but took your hand back abruptly when you saw San turning around and giving you a serious look. He suddenly gets down on one knee. “Y/N,” he said in a serious tone, causing you to cover your face as you fell back laughing, “San, what are you doing?” You asked him as you sat back up with a huge shock smile on your face.

“Y/N,” he repeats again. He inhales and exhales, closing his eyes before looking back into your eyes. “Baby the second my eyes laid on you, my heart knew that you were the one I wanted to spend forever with. I want to wake up and have your eyes be the first thing and the last thing I see. There aren’t enough words to describe the love I have for you.”

You feel yourself getting teary eyed as you scoff out a smile, not believing that he is doing this. “I know, I don’t have a ring right now, but trust me when I say that when I do get it, it will have the biggest gem that represents the immense love I have for you.” He said watching you sniff up your tears. “Will you marry me? Because I don’t want to do life without you.”

You gasped at his words, crying for a few moments before sniffing up your runny nose as you used the back of your hand to wipe your falling tears, “San,” your voice cracks out, as you placed a hand on your chest. “Yes!” You breathed out a smile, “Yes, I will marry you.”

He finally exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yes?” He asks you as he broke out into the biggest smile ever and you nodded quickly, “Yes, San, yes.” You repeated as he helped you stand up.

He picked up, you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist as he spins you both around in his arms. You leaned your forehead against his, “You scared me,” he said, “What took you so long in answering!”

You kissed his pout, “I’m sorry,” you laughed, “I had to make sure. You know I’m expensive.” You joked.

He gives you a deadpan look, “Really?” He said in a monotone voice causing you to burst out into laughter as you leaned your forehead against his again, cupping his face, “No, my idiot. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I’m going to marry my soulmate. I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

“You’re the one for me,” he said looking into your eyes. If you weren’t so high from the moment, you could’ve sworn there was sadness in his eyes. “I just- I don’t want to wait anymore.” He cleared his throat, “You’re the one for me, Y/N.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he repeated himself.

After a minute, he clears his throat, “Now,” he says as he tosses you on the bed causing you to yell in shock as you sit up and give him a glare. He takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere behind him as he spreads your legs, ignoring the pissed off look you have with a smirk on his face, “Should we start with baby number one? Or will we get lucky and have triplets first round?”

“San-“ he cuts you with the smirk still etched on his face as he kissed you. He knew damn well you were gonna bring up the topic of six kids, but that’s for another time. Right now, he wants to cherish this moment with you. Just one last time.

You hated how easily he captivated you and how easy he had you under his finger. Without trying to break contact with you, his hand struggles to turn off the light as he taps everything but the switch. He groans in frustration as he sits up and slams the stupid button off causing you to laugh at his impatience. Finally, the light was off.

As he leans back down kissing you, he is mentally tattooing everything about you throughout the night—your lips, your melodic sounds, your breathing, your heartbeat, your gentle and rough touches, your curves— Just everything before it was time.

—

It was late at night as San stood near the bed, watching you sleep. He was dressed in all black, prepared to leave but not before he says goodbye to you. The sheer curtains let the moonlight seep in, casting on your face. The light snores you made were music to his ears. It cause him to gently chuckle bittersweetly as tears blurred his vision.

He remembered all the times you argued with him saying that he was liar, telling him that you don’t snore. It hurt knowing this would be last time hearing them— last time seeing you.

He slowly and gently takes steps to you, leaning down as he removes a few strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, “I have to go.” He kisses your forehead gently, “I love you so, so much.”

He stiffed up a bit when he saw you stirring in your sleep but exhaled in relief when you stopped and went back to your light snores. He glanced at the clock on your night stand and read 3:00AM. It’s about that time. He looks down as he felt his tears coming in, “Please forgive me.” He pleads quietly, sniffing as he looks at you. “I’ll be back.”

One last kiss on the forehead and he slowly gets up and walks to the door. And just like a switch, he walked down the hall, sniffing up those tears as he moved his head side to side, cracking his neck as a more serious, deadly look appeared on his face as he disappeared from the apartment and into the night.

—

Ugh, you really have to change those sheer curtains that blocks absolutely nothing because right now the morning sun was shinning right in your eyes, stirring you awake. You leaned on your back, one arm covering your eyes while the other reached out to touch San but was met with a cold, empty side.

Eyes still covered, you moved your hand around to try and find his body but let’s be real, this was no California King size bed. Either he fell off the bed or simply, he isn’t here. You removed your arm from your eyes and turned to the side and confirmed that he wasn’t there.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly sat up, bringing the blanket to cover your bare chest. “San?” You called out to him. Maybe he’s in the living room. You waited for a response but nothing.

You sighed as you removed the blanket off your body, shivering slightly from cool air as goosebumps formed on your skin. Maybe he didn’t hear me. You grabbed your shirt from off the floor, putting it on as you walked to the living room. “Sannie?” But you were met with an empty living room—an empty apartment.

You removed your tucked hair from your shirt as you pursed your lips, crossing your arms, “This man is going to be the death of me.” You didn’t think much of it—well, kind of— San does this all the time. Whether it was for work or hanging out with friends— whatever it may be, it was normal for him to do. Yes, you have gotten into multiple arguments over it. Yes, he says he will try. But there are times that he forgets to tell you—like today.

You walked back into the room grabbing your phone, unplugging it from the charger as you tapped on the screen but no notifications. “Really?” You sucked the back of your front teeth, feeling annoyed as you shook your head. You unlocked your phone and dialed his number, running a hand through your hair as you hear the dialing tone.

“The number you have dialed-“ you sighed in annoyance as you hung up the call, opening your messages. ‘Thanks for letting me know that you were leaving :)’ and a ‘call me when you can. Love you asshole.” You sent to him, but it came back as message failed. Great, now his phone died.

You threw your phone on bed, “Whatever.” You say as you walked out the room and headed to the bathroom as you started to get ready for the day. Another great thing about San is that he is not the most dependable with his phone. His phone is either dead or lost between the sofa cushions. He truly can’t pick a struggle.

But you know what, at the end of the day you love him and all his aggravating faults, no matter how many times you want to strangle him. That’s your fiancé. Indeed it is. And it has you smiling like an idiot as you brushed your teeth, looking at your reflection. You guess you’ll keep him.

—

As the day went on, it was still radio silent on San’s part. You kept checking, calling, texting but it was to no avail. San may be dumb when it comes to how he handles his phone and where he’s going and whatnot but he never fails to call you and let you know where he’s at or how he’s doing—even if that means calling from a strangers phone. Yes, you were confused that one time a random ass number kept calling you.

You couldn’t help but get this feeling that something is wrong, so here you are pulling up to his job and checking to see if he’s there. You parked and inhaled and exhaled, keeping the nerves at bay as you grabbed your things and headed out of your car.

‘The Tire Shop’ came into view as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’s busy and you’ll forgive him for now and yell at him later. As soon as you opened the door, you winced a bit at the car drill radiating throughout the shop as you looked at the men working on cars.

You watched as a man passed by you, rolling at tire to a car he’s fixing on, having the smell of oil and sweat fill up your nostrils. You gripped your purse strap as you looked around to spot if San was talking with someone or working on a car but nothing.

You were too caught up scanning for San that you didn’t even notice an older gentleman approaching you. “Ma’am?” He calls to your attention as he wipes his hands on a dirty rag, removing excess grease. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, sorry,” you chucked nervously, stepping a bit closer to him. “Yes. I’m looking for someone. Is San working today? Did he come in?” You asked.

He tilted his head to the side, giving you his ear as he gets a bit closer to you as the drill goes off again, “I’m sorry. Who?” He yelled through the sound, eyebrows furrowed.

“San. Choi San.” You repeated a bit louder, leaning in slightly to his ear. “H-Have you seen him?” You stuttered a bit, feeling nervous.

“Choi San?” He repeated with confusion in his tone, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sorry but nobody of that name works here.” He said shaking his head, tucking in the dirty rang in his back pocket.

You froze, feeling your blood go cold. You let out a nervous laugh, “That’s impossible,” you said reaching into your purse and showing your lock screen. “He’s been working here for five years.” The man squints his eyes, adjusting his poor vision to see the photo of San. “Are you sure?” You asked him in disbelief.

He nods his head. “I’m sure, ma’am.” But seeing the desperation in your face, he sighs turning around to yell out to one of his coworker. The coworker stops and gives him a stank face of what-do-you-want? The man asks him if he’s heard of a Choi San working here but the coworker just shook his head, getting back to work.

“Well, there you have it. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The gentleman asked you as your heart dropped.

—

You slammed that door open as you rushed out, fumbling with your car keys in hand as you made your way to the car. You slammed your car door shut as you gripped onto the steering wheel, “What the fuck is going on?” You asked yourself, with a shaky breath, hearing a high pitch ringing in your ears.

You looked at your purse that was still clinging onto your arm. You quickly opened it, rummaging through it as you searched for your phone, messing up password multiple times as you rushed to unlock it making you groan in frustration.

“Come on come on.” You whispered to yourself as you dialed his number waiting for him to pick up but it went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” You screamed out as you threw your phone on the dashboard.

You leaned your face into your hands, feeling anger and confusion swimming in your mind. Are you going insane? What the fuck does this man mean that he’s never heard of a Choi San? You start to get flashbacks of when you dropped him off, him literally coming out of the shop, having lunch with him right outside on the benches— Just what in the fuck is going on?

Fuck this. You backed out and drove to the police station. You knew San like that back of your hand. From small details such as calling or texting, even if he doesn’t do it in the moment, he NEVER forgets. And now you’re being told that he has never worked there? For the past five years? Bullshit. Something bad is happening and you sure as hell aren’t going to waste anymore time.

—

You were spaced out thinking about the whereabouts of San as you sat in-front of a desk, waiting for an officer. You gnawed on your lower lip, bouncing your leg rapidly from the nerves. “Miss Y/N?” Your head snapped to the side to see a female officer approaching you with a comforting smile and water.

You stood up and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Officer Lee.” She gestures to the seat you were in, “Please, sit.” She places the cup in front of you, mumbling a thank you to her as you took a sip of water.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” You tell her as you adjust yourself in the seat. “I just didn’t know what else to do and I just- I don’t-“ you felt overwhelmed, losing your words.

She reaches over the table and places a comforting hand on yours. “It’s okay. You did the right thing by coming here.” She smiles once more, removing her hand to grab a pen and opening her notepad. “Why don’t we break down your day today. From when you woke up to now.”

You nodded as you inhaled and exhale. You quickly got to work. You told her how you woke up and he wasn’t home, how he’s basically irresponsible with his phone, how his job all of a sudden tells you that he doesn’t work there. You also mentioned every single detail of San. From his hair to physique, his full name, date of birth, no family, all of his habits, photos of him—you didn’t even forget to mention how just last night he proposed to you.

Throughout this Officer Lee was jotting down everything you told her, asking some questions to expand on certain things. “And that’s everything I know.” You sighed in exhaustion, sniffing as you wiped some tears with tissue paper.

“It was perfect. You gave us all information possible to make this a clear and proper search.” She nodded as you as she closes her notepad and placing her pen down. “I know this is tough for you, but I can assure you that we will do our best to figure out what happened.”

You faced down with your eyes closed. “What if I’m being dramatic? But at the same time what if something happened to him? I just don’t know-“

“Listen to me,” She cuts you off. “You know San better than anyone. If you feel that something is off then something must be off, okay? Plus, one doesn’t suddenly not work at a place he’s been at for five years.” You sniffed and nodded at her.

She stands up, which causes you to also stand up, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “In the meantime, go home and continue with your regular routine. I know it’s easier said than done, but please try. We will handle the rest and keep you updated.”

You nodded and shook her hand once more. “Thank you so much Officer Lee.” You tell her. “I very much appreciate it.” And with that you made your way out the station, pushing the door as you stepped out into the breezy night. You entered your car and leaned your head back, feeling a sob coming out once more. Where did you go, San?

—

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months since you last saw San. Every single day you call the police to get an update but it was the same fucking vague answers. It’s as if they rehearsed the same lines over and over just for you. You felt as if you were past the point of insanity.

All you just want to know is if San was alive or not. You just want to know if there was a single trace of him anywhere in this damn world— just something. All you just wanted a peace of mind.

Here you go again, on the phone with Officer Lee, who quite literally has the patience of an angel with the way you be calling everyday—some days with more attitude than usual. “Miss Y/N, as I have said before,” she sighed, “I don’t have anything. I will call you when-“

“When you have an update.” You finished the sentence with her. Today, you just so happen to have that attitude. “I know. I just-“ you cut yourself off as you sighed and rubbed your forehead, walking back and forth in your living room.

“I just want to know if you found anything. Even is that anything is so small, I don’t care. Just anything please.” You begged her. “Like why would he lie to me for the past five years about his job? Why would he propose to me and envision this life with me only for him to leave?” You asked her on the verge of tears, exhaling a shaky breath.

These are all the same questions you’ve been asking her for months. You sound like a broken record at this point, but what can you do? You never thought this would happen to you. Deep down you know the only one who can truly answer this was Choi San.

Officer Lee rubs her forehead, staying silent as she listens to you. She too feels heartbroken for you. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, sniffing. “I’m just desperate. I feel like I’m going insane. It’s been months and there’s no update. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.” You vented to her, feeling your heart slowly break apart.

There was a long, long pause on the phone as you cried. Just as soon as you were going to ask if she was still there— she spoke. “Y/N, listen to me and listen closely because this will be the only time I will be mentioning this.” Officer Lee looks at her surroundings and figures there’s too many people so she heads to a vacant stairway.

You froze at her words. Her tone sounded completely different. “I’m not allowed to speak about this, but I can’t keep letting you live like this.” You froze at her words, “There is no record of Choi San.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out feeling completely confused as you shook your head in confusion. “A few months back, I was able to find something on him. Just a small trace of his location. He was seen walking around town, nothing too suspicious. But,” she pauses. You feel your heartbeat in your throat, “the following day when I went to check the video surveillance once more, it was gone. Wiped off. When I went to search him up, it said that there was no record of Choi San.“ She said. “It’s as if he never existed.”

Your heart dropped, you felt the room spinning. “Wh-What?” You managed to let out, “As if he ever existed?” You repeated her words in disbelief. “What? Why would anyone do that? Why would that even happen?”

Officer Lee looks up the stairs to check if anyone was coming and below before leaning her back on the wall. “Can I tell you something?” She whispered into the phone. She can sense the overwhelming feeling of hurt and confusion.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears falling down your face. You bit your lips, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes?” You answered quietly, feeling your fear taking over.

“As someone who has been working in this industry for a long time, it can only mean one thing,” she says, “this man was involved in something very dangerous.” You felt your knees give up as you held onto the sofa. “Whoever this Choi San is, he disappeared for a reason.”

“Who is he? What has been done?” You asked frantically, feeling the hairs stand behind your neck. Who did I lie in bed with?

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sounded defeated. Truthfully, she did not know. She knew that this was not the first time someone has just up and disappeared off the Earth. She knows that there are some evil deals made behind closed doors with the police department.

“Why would he do to me then? What am I supposed to do?” You asked her choking out a sob as you angrily wiped that tears off your face.

“If I were you, I would leave.” She said serious. You were taken aback. “Y/N, you don’t know this man. He is not the man you thought you knew. Trust me. Please. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

You felt numb at this point. What else can come in and ruin your life at this point? “I will call you if I have find something. Until then, please take care of yourself.” And with that you heard the hang up tone, leaving you alone once again.

You stood there in silence, dropping your arm down along with the phone. The sound of the phone hitting the floor rang in your ears. San? Dangerous? No. It can’t be. All of these thoughts rapidly came at you at once, making it seem like a million of voices are in your head.

Soon everything just went blank and something within you snapped. You went to the fireplace and hand swipe everything off the counter, screaming in anger. You cried in misery as you grabbed a picture frame and chucked it to the wall, watching the glass shatter at the impact.

You swiped everything off your dining table, flipping the table in frustration. His absence only worsen the betrayal you felt within your fucking bones. You stood in the middle of the living room starting to laugh. Laughing hysterically as tears dwelled in your eyes.

Everything you knew for the past five years was a lie. A waste of time. Your laughter subsided to agony as you fell to your knees, unable to control this painful heartache. You sobbed uncontrollably as you clutched onto your chest wanting to take this unbearable pain out of your heart.

Fucking San? A dangerous man? The same idiot who was afraid of flipping food over because he was afraid of the hot oil? The same idiot who would drink water from his hands because he was lazy to get a cup? The same idiot who wanted to raise a family with you? No. This can’t be happening.

You leaned forward, placing your hands on the floor as you leaned on them for support as your body shook from your cries. It hits you in that moment if he knew what he was asking when he asked you to runaway. All that you envisioned is gone, just like him.

—

It’s later in the night, and you’re in your kitchen drunkenly stumbling on your tippy toes as you kept your balance to reach into the top cabinet for yet another wine bottle. You finally reached it, popping open the bottle and pouring more in your glass. You take a sip as you close your eyes, feeling this temporary relief soak up in you.

You grabbed the bottle and turned to face the living room, eying the mess you created earlier. You’ll deal with it later, you thought to yourself as you took another sip, walking through the mess as you headed straight to your room.

You sat on your floor staring into the open closet with swollen, bloodshot eyes. You took a sip feeling your eyelids getting heavy from the crying and the alcohol. You placed the cup down, grabbing the bottle and poured some more wine without taking your sight off his side the closet.

Judging from how you heard the cup filling up to the brim, you stopped and placed the bottle down. You sighed as you licked your lips. Well, might as well start moving his shit out. You drunkenly got on your knees and crawled to the closet and sat on your knees.

You reached up and yanked off one of his shirts from the hanger, watch it swing from the harsh pull. You brought the material up to your nose, inhaling it. Though your nose maybe be stuffy from the crying, his scent was so strong. You bring it up to your cheek, wishing it was his touch— his warmth.

You opened your eyes to a blurred vision. No, no tears right now. You turned around and reached to grab your drink and took a few sips before placing it back down. You slowly stood up, feeling the liquor rushing down your legs as it controls your movements. Let’s start with something different.

You reached out to the top of the closet shelve, getting on your tippy toes and grabbed a stack full of boxes and miscellaneous things. But with your wobbly drunken self, and horrible grip, you ended up dropping it on the floor, causing you to yelp out as you moved back.

You opened your eyes and looked down to see that you spilled your drink and broken the glass, “Oh, great.” You pursed your lips, “Glad to see that I’m not the only one broken.” You say, making a half-assed joke. You sighed as you got on your knees and collected some of the big pieces. Thankfully your floor is carpet, all you have to do is wet-vac it.

You started to dry off some of his things but was stopped when you saw a black briefcase with a gold lock embedded on it. “What is this?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you grabbed it and used your hands to take off some of the wine droplets.

You sat comfortable and brought it the case closer for you to examine the lock. It was a four digit code. You grabbed your wine bottle, taking a big swig of it before you went to work on this lock. You bit your lower lip in concentration as you tried multiple combinations.

Shit, you even did the good ole 1, 2, 3, 4. Now listen, in your defense, while on one hand you can kill San, or whoever that man is right now, you always laughed at him for having the most basic password ever—to which he would get offended each time. So you couldn’t help but try it out at least one time.

But, man, you were stumped. Plus it doesn’t help that you were drunk so give yourself some slack. You take a sip and groaned out loud, “What could it even be..” you thought out. You then gasp as you quickly grabbed the case and placed in those four digits. Your birthday. And with that, it clicks open.

You scoffed out a smile, “Really?” Of course he would. “Stop it.” You scolded yourself, shaking your head at yourself. You exhaled, trying to calm the nerves. You slowly opened it, eyes widening at the sight of documents. But these weren’t just regular documents— these were gang afflicted documents.

Your drunken eyes roaming all over, you grabbed the papers out and stacked them, pushing the briefcase to the side. You then start to spread out the documents in front of you, eyes widening as they captured specific words.

You get on your knees as you further spread them out. You then fall back on your knees and parted your mouth in shock at the view in front of you. These documents were filled with gruesome attacks of people, some described chilling events that took place, plans of ambushes, details reports of deaths— you felt sick. What you take notice is that whoever wrote all of this, must’ve been so numb to the brutal killings that were executed.

You then notice a familiar signature at the bottom of the paper. “Oh my god..” you cover your mouth in shock. It was his signature. He did this. You dropped the paper and picked up the previous papers to only confirm what you had in mind. All of them had his signature. He did all of this.

You then turn to the side and saw orange envelope that was filled with what you could imagine more information. You grabbed it and opened it, but dropped it as you turned to the side feeling as if you were going to throw up. You coughed as you felt your throat closing up as you leaned on your hands for support as you hunched over.

“Oh, what the fuck!” You coughed out. Never in your life did you expect to see most nastiest, gruesome photos of bodies. You laid in bed with a freaking monster. You ran a hand through your hair as you looked back the photos you dropped.

You panted heavy as you picked a photo with San standing in the center as men surrounded him all shirtless. You looked closely and saw a snake tattoo that started on their ribs and to their chest. You then had a memory come in when you asked San about his tattoo but he shook his head saying it was nothing, how he thought it was cool when he was younger.

The look casted on San’s face was a rough looking demeanor that contradicts the San you knew—but then again everything did. You dropped your hand with the photograph still in your grasp as you spaced out for a second trying to process everything.

Officer Lee was right. You just didn’t want to believe it. You looked down as took in the gruesome that were spread out. You saw all the violence San created—all the blood, guts, chopped off body parts, one with San smiling over a body. You couldn’t contain it anymore and struggled your way to the bathroom, having the walls be your support as you made it to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You can’t believe what your life has become.

—

PRESENT TIME, 5 YEARS LATER

"Alright, my little munchkins," Your voice full of warmness, "It's almost time to go home, let's start cleaning up!" You say to your first grade students as they in unison yelled out "Okay!" You heard the little chairs squeak against the floor as they got up preparing to leave.

They chatted amongst themselves as they worked together. You moved through the room, helping and guiding them when they had questions on where certain things go. As years have passed, you slowly rebuilt your life. You took joy in being a Pre-K teacher. The laughter and smiles from the kids help shed some light in the darkness that was roaming around you.

The kids eagerly grabbed their backpacks and jacket, helping some as you made some jokes with them causing them to giggle. They were filled with excitement knowing it was time to go home as they bounced in a file line by the door. You opened the doors seeing parents waiting outside.

One by one you watched as they left, the crowd of students getting smaller and smaller. You sighed as you closed your classroom door, stretching your neck. You organized the classroom some more, pushing in chairs, sweeping the floor, collecting left over materials and putting them in their respective place.

Finally, time to go home and shower the day off. You grabbed your purse, turned off the light and headed out the room. You lock your class room door and sighed as you take your hair out of the tight ponytail, running a hand through it.

For some reason you felt someone looking at you which made you look across the street to see a man all dressed in black standing still as he looked at you. You slowly subsided your steps, looking at this figure but with the sun and tall silver fence that wrapped around the school, it was hard to adjust on the face.

You watched as they slowly walked away, your gaze never leaving them until they are fully gone from your view. Well, that was fucking weird, you thought to yourself as you picked up the pace to your car, looking behind you every few seconds.

—

For five years you have done all that you could to forget Choi San and started anew. You blocked out everything you two shared. The memories, the empty promises, the relationship you two had—everything. You packed up your shit, got rid of everything that was San’s, and moved states. You changed your number, email, deleted any form of social media and accounts— you name it and it was gone.

To say you weren’t terrified would be a bold ass lie. You were petrified of the things San has done. Most importantly, what he could do to you. You were scared of him finding you. When you feel yourself slipping up, yearning for his love or him, you remind yourself of the deadly things this man did. He has no right to stay in your heart.

But we digressed. You slide the shower curtain open causing the steam to swirl around from your sudden movement. You bring your hair to the side, wringing out the excess water, and then slowly stepped of the tub carefully to not lose your balance. You dragged the towel off the rack and pat your self dry before wrapping it around you.

Tucking the excess at the top to make sure the towel doesn’t fall, you walked to your mirror and hand wiped the fog off. You started off with your nightly routine, wanting to just go to bed from all the exhaustion you had today. But just then as you spat out your toothpaste, you heard a faint creaking of wood in your living room.

You looked at the door and froze, feeling your heart quicken a bit at the sound. Maybe it was the upstairs neighbors. You shook your head as you opened the faucet and wiped the corners of your mouth. Maybe I just made the sound up.

But then the creaking noise comes back. You turned off the faucet, gently placing your ear and hands against the door, waiting for it once more. It’s silent—but you aren’t taking any chances.

You slowly pushed yourself off the door and crouched down to your sink cabinet. You quietly opened it and reached in and grabbed the gun that was attached to the roof of the cabinet. When you moved, you decided to arm yourself as a form of protection.

You stood up and cocked the gun back. Your free hand wrapped around the door knob, inhaling and exhaling before slowly opening it. The creaking of the door opening added to the eeriness of the silence. Goosebumps formed on your skin as a gush of cool air from the hallway hits your skin.

You raised the gun up while your other hand supported it from underneath as you walked down the hall. The mist leaving the bathroom was conforming with the fresh air, disappearing behind you as you made your way down the hallway. Your steps thudded as you got closer, faint sounds of water droplets from your hair coming in contact with the floor.

You quickly turned the corner, scanning the living room as the gun followed your eye movements. Your breathing filled up your ears as your eyes moved quickly to every shadow or movement you suspected was something, which only added to your adrenaline.

Then finally, the creaking noise made your ears twitch and this time it was clear where it was coming from. You pointed the gun to the kitchen, tightening the grip. “Show yourself.” You commanded, voice full of anger.

Soon a man slowly emerges from the dark shadows with his hands up. Your eyes widened for a second but you kept your composure, “Who are you?” A slight shaky tone gave away the fear coursing in your body. All you saw was his body as the darkness covered his face.

Slowly he dropped his hands, standing still. “Answer me.” You demanded, heart beating up to your ears.

And with that he takes a step forward and with one look at the face, everything comes crumbling down. “S-San?” You gasped in disbelief, eyes widening at the sight of him, mouth parting.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. Oh my god. “It’s me.” It’s really him. The voice you longed to hear after five years. The person you missed desperately. The person who was your forever. He held his gaze with yours as he walked to you.

You felt your arms slowly dropping as you stood in shock. You couldn’t believe he’s here face to face. You want to hold him—wait— “Don’t fucking move.” You tell him as you quickly regained your composure. He freezes at your words. He is not the person you thought you knew.

“Y/N,” his voice broke, eyes full of sorrow. “Please. I know I fucked up.” He tries taking a step forward. Fucked up is an understatement.

“Don’t fucking move!” You yell at him, taking a step forward, gun pointed at him causing him to take a step back. “I’ll shoot you.” You tell him.

His eyes widen at your words. “Y/N,” he whispers as tears start dwelling in his eyes. “I know you’re upset, but please let me explain-“

“Upset?” You cut him off with a humorless laugh. “You fucking asshole. You ruined me! You hurt me in ways I didn’t even know was possible.” You spat at him. “You left me. No— You disappeared. Come to find out you’re nothing but a sick piece of inhumane shit murderer.”

“Let me explain, Y/N. It’s not what you think.” He tells you as he takes a step forward to you. His heart drops at the way you look at him. He knows the damage he has done. He knows that it might be late to salvage whatever is left but he would be damn if he gives up to easily.

The two of you moved around in circles in your living room. Him wanting to hold you, to feel your warmth and to explain everything but you wanting nothing to do with him as you moved away from him. His voice broke as he spoke, “Baby, please-“

“Don’t!” You cut him off, feeling the hot tears falling down your cheeks. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to show up five years later and try to make up for all the bullshit you put me through.” You tell him as you two finally stopped moving.

You watched as he cried, looking in pain. “Leave. Never come back. You’re five years too late, asshole. I want nothing from you.” You tell him angrily. There was a pause of works between you two, all you could hear was the cries. Your vision blurred by your tears as you stared into his regretful eyes.

San couldn’t contain it anymore. He walks up to you, making you gasp in shock as you walked backwards, bumping into the wall arms still extended out. You felt a slight push from the gun when its cold metal was pressed on his chest. “I have killed men.” He starts to explain what you saw in the photos. “Those men you saw in the photos have done most vile, disgusting things to people. Things that would keep you up at night.” He whispers at the end.

He clears his throat, “Let me explain,” he pleads. “Let me explain and then I’ll leave. I’ll do whatever you ask of me but please, Y/N…”

You fucking trembled as you let out a sob. He sighs in relief as he raised his hands, enclosing them on yours as he gently removed the gun from your hands. You don’t even fight it, you just hug yourself. He removes the ammo and cocks back the gun watching the bullet jump out, dropping the gun to the floor.

The thud made you jump back, wishing the wall would engulf you and would disappear. Slowly he raised his hands to your shoulders, causing you to look away in fright. You swallowed your nerves as you stiffened a bit, feeling his hands rising up to cup your face, making you turn to face him.

He leans his forehead on yours, sliding his hands from your face down your arms, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles. He places your hands on his cheeks and leans into your touch, let out a shaky sigh of relief. Enjoying your warmth, missing your touch.

You stood there as you took in his gentle gestures. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you fucking missed him. You missed everything so much, but can’t fall for this. You removed your hands from his touch and looked at him in anger. He fucking left you.

You shoved his chest with all your force, watching him stumble backwards. He looked at you in shock. There was a moment of silence before you walked up to him and started pounding him on his chest, hitting him as you released everything you’ve been suppressing for the past five years.

“How could you do this to me?!” You screamed at him. “Who the fuck are you? Why would you come into my life if you were just going to disappear?” He stood there, taking it from you knowing that he deserves this and more.

You slapped him so hard across the face, making him almost lose his balance. “Okay,” he said groaning out in pain as he adjusted his jaw, feeling that burning sensation. “I deserved that.”

You shoved him once more. “I gave you everything.” You told him, panting heavily. “I fucking loved you. You were my everything. We were going to get married and have this life together.” You cried to him. You placed your hands on your head, feeling as if you were going crazy, “I just want to know why.” You shook your head, “Why, San?”

“Baby,” he tells you and you just close your eyes not wanting to hear the pet name he had for you. “I-“ he tried finding the words. “I was involved in something that I never, ever wanted you to find out. I know, sounds hypocritical considering you found the documents and pictures and for that I’m sorry. I genuinely forgot to take the case because- because-“ he sighs as he shakes his head, cutting himself off to change the topic.

You stayed quiet as you looked at him. He sniffed, “I have done terrible, terrible things.” You watched as he looks down and then back up to you, “But I had no choice.” He tells you as he got closer to you, grabbing your hands as he brings them to his lips once more “Part of what I did was something I needed to do in order to get out.” He places a kiss on your hands, looking at you. “In order to be with you.”

You wanted to stay silent. You didn’t want to know but your curiosity betrayed you, “What-“ you let out a shaky breath, “What did you have to do?” You said quietly.

He leans his forehead on your hands, not being able to look at you when he confesses. “In order to get out—to show my loyalty to them and to prove I was done with that life— I had to kill very important people.”

You took your hands from his grasp and looked to the side as you covered your mouth, not being able to look at him. “Oh my god.” You whimpered out.

“Baby, please, it was the only way for me to get out of this life that I didn’t even want to be to begin with.” He says, searching for your eyes. “But that was the only way for me to survive. Once I was in, there was no easy way out.”

He cups your face and wipes your tears, “But when I saw you,” he lets out chuckle with tears streaming down, “I’ll never forget when I first laid my eyes on you. I knew from the bottom of my heart I wanted to be with you,” he looked into your eyes, “I did what I did to be with you. I would do it a thousand times over for you. Because I love you.”

You closed your eyes, whimpering as he kept going on. “I left because I wanted to live a free life from all that shit. I left because I wanted to live in peace with you. Listen,” he cups your face, making you look directly at him, “the men I killed deserved all I did. They have hurt innocent people. Woman, children, Y/N, they don’t care who it was. Scumbags like that deserved to be punished.”

He fell to knees, placing gentle tender kisses on your thighs. “I was so, so afraid of losing you that I hid everything from you. I fucked up for not telling you but I was just trying to protect you.” He cries out as he leans his forehead on your thighs.

He wraps his arms around your legs, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry for all the misery I have caused you. I promise you, I was done. But-” he fumbled with his words, “But someone informed me that they were looking for me to get revenge. To get back at me for all I did to those people.”

He looks up at you, “And I just—… I could never live with myself if they killed you.So I decided to just leave and disappear before they found you with me.” He caresses the back of your thighs as he leaned his forehead once more on your thighs. “I thought it would be better this way. I paid off the men at my job to lie to you if you showed up. I threw my phone away. I had all of my records cleared off the database. I just couldn’t risk anyone having single link of you from me. ”

Your sobs filled the room as you take in all his words. This man who went from your lover to a stranger to now you being conflicted. You watched as he stood up, cupping your face once more. “For the past five years, I never once let you out my sight.” He confesses.

It then hits you. “Was that you today?” You asked him and he nodded.

“It fucking broke me watching you from the distance but please, Y/N, understand it was for your protection.” He tells you.

You held onto his wrists, “San,” you licked your lips as you closed your eyes. “I just- I don’t know what to think or what to do.” You sniffed as you opened your eyes and looked at him. “Why now? Why now after all these years did you decide to come back?“

“I’m free,” he whispered to you, “I took care of everything.” He tells you and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you gulped. “Listen to me, they deserved it.” You remove his hands, feeling sick as you remembered the photos and documents.

He sighs in defeat. “Y/N, the things they have done to others,” he shakes his head, “it’s indescribable. What I did to them isn’t even half of what they have done.” That makes you feel even more in shock. Those photos and detailing was already horrible enough, you can’t imagine what they did to others.

You looked at the floor thinking. Does it kind of make you feel better that San basically did justice in killing bad guys? You don’t know. Are you trying to make an excuse? You don’t know. But one thing is certain, you were afraid. You looked at him as you let out a shaky breath, “Would you ever… hurt me?” You hesitantly asked him.

You saw as his face broke at your question. His heart dropped at your words. “What?” He whispered out. “I would never, ever do such a thing to you. You’re the love of my life. The reason I woke up and did what I did for the past five years just so I can be with you again. Y/N you changed me for the better.” He grabs your hand and placed it on his chest. “This is for you.” He says as you feel his heart beat, insinuating that it beats for you and only you.

“The man you saw in the photos and read in the documents that’s not me anymore. I gave up that life for you. I wanted to change for you. I love you, Y/N, believe that.” He pulls you to him as he cups your face once more.

You planned to never see San ever again in your life. As a matter of fact you wanted to kill him if he ever came across your way. But now listening to him and him explaining, granted he needs more explains to do, you can’t help but fucking want him again in your life. You fucking missed him.

You let out a whimper. “San,” you say, “I hate you so much. I hate that I missed you. I hate that I still love you.” You squeezed his wrists. San lets out a sad chuckle at your word, “I hate myself too. I hate for leaving you and for hurting you.”

You softly hit his chest once as you cried, not having any strength left in your body. You looked up at him, “Are you going to leave me again?” You asked him with tears in your eyes, in a broken voice that was full of pain.

He leans his forehead on yours, “Never. I will never leave you again.” You felt his rough hands roaming up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. You bit your lower lip—fuck. It’s as if nothing has changed for the past five years. You just give into him so easily.

You looked into his eyes, love and lust swirling around. “Please,” he said lowly, as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Let me take care of you tonight.” He places a kiss below your ear, “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He trails kisses down your neck, “How much I’ve missed you.” He hovers his lips over yours.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction from his touches. You slightly nodded as you looked into his eyes. He leans in and captures your lips, you melted into his touch. He wasted no time in picking you up causing you to wrap your legs around him.

You gently tugged his hair as the kiss started to heat up. He glided a hand up your back, tugging your head back by your hair as he trails kisses down your neck to your collarbone. You let out a moan when he starts sucking on that sweet spot. You look back down to him and kissed him again.

“Mmm, where is the room?” He broke the kiss, panting slightly as he catches his breath. “Down the hall.” You whispered, panting as well.

—

He burst into the bedroom, both of you still in the heated kiss, closing the door with his leg as he walked and threw you on the bed. “San!” You yelped out in shock. You sat up as you clutched the towel that still covered your body, giving him an angry look as he hovers over you, “Don’t do that shi-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, “I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers to you, gently pushing you to lay back down on the bed, “I’ll be careful, okay?” He whispers in your ear, kissing below it. Bullshit but okay. Nice to know that something’s don’t change.

He sat up as he takes off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him as he leans back down to kiss you. You unconsciously roam your hands all over his muscular arms, squeezing them as he grinds his clothes hard member against your bare throbbing, achy pussy.

His lips slowly moves down and stops at the top of your towel. He takes his forefinger and slowly drags it from your lips down to neck and between your breast. He never once took his eyes off you as he slowly unravels your towel. He looked at you as if you were a meal—starving and craving you for the past five years.

He leans down and latches onto your nipple while massaging the other one causing you to arch your back as you clench you pussy onto nothing. He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose as his tongue flicks your harden nipple. He switches from one breast to the other.

He trails the kisses down your stomach making you inhale and exhale at his trailing wet kisses, making you excited for what’s to come. He gets off the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your legs as he drags you closer to him.

He places your thighs on his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs as he eyes your glistening pussy. His hands caress your thighs up and down. “San, please.” You begged to him, turning your head to the side in desperation as your chest heaves at his actions.

“Shh, baby, just relax.” His hot breath hovers over your throbbing area, making you clench once more. “Let me handle it, okay?” He asks you and watched as you nodded frantically causing him to smirk.

He then sucks on your clit, slightly hollowing his cheeks from the suction as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. You let out a moan as he lays his tongue flat, moving his head up and down. You gripped on his head, using your free one to grip the sheets. The sounds of suction adds to your pleasure.

He reaches over your thighs, spreading your folds wasting no time to fuck you with his tongue. San swears this is the most beautiful state he has seen you in. Screaming as you arch your back, unable to deal with the pleasure as it takes over you.

He moves his tongue in and out your hole, feeling you clench around him. He moves his tongue all around your folds before going back in. He then freed one hand and uses his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. “Shit.” You breathed out turning your head side to side, gasping.

He freed his other hand and sticks in two fingers, curved upward, moving at a medium pace. “O-Oh!” You moaned out, throwing your head back as your mouth parts in delight, “Ri-Right there!” You gripped the pillow on either side of your head.

He continues the rubbing and fingering as he looks at you. His cheeks hurt but he doesn’t fucking care. “I missed you so much baby.” He said in a deep voice, “I’ve dreamt of this everyday for the past five years.”

He places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Can you cum for me?” He asked you before getting back down. He quickens the pace, sucking the lower half of your clit as he uses his thumb to rub the top part rapidly, adding pressure to it.

You screamed out his name as a mantra. “San! San, I’m going to cum!” You said as you looked down at him before throwing your head back. You clamped his head trapped between your thighs, feeling your orgasm building up. You fisted his hair as you breathed heavy.

“Shit! Shit!” You say as you screamed out as you reached your orgasm. All the built up emotions just released in that moment as you felt like you saw stars. You breathed out uncontrollably as he help you ride out your high with his fingers and mouth. Your shaky legs let go of the grip it had on his head as you tried collecting yourself.

He stands up and removes his pants and boxers in one go, watching you all fucked out on the bed. His member was leaking with precum, eager to feel you and to fill you up all deliciously. He hovers of you, getting between your legs, “You okay, baby?” He asks you.

“Yeah,” You breathed out as you lazily wrapped your arms over his neck, “That was amazing.” You lazily smile which caused him chuckle. You pull him to you, kissing him as you tasted yourself on his lips.

He pulls back, “Are you ready?” He asked you. You nodded at him, “Yes.” You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves to his hand to align himself, both of you remaining eye contact. You closed your eyes as you feel his tip going in and then him full stretching you out. He drops his head down, feeling the tightness engulf him.

He takes a moment for you both, taking in the sensation. You can’t help but to clench down at him, enjoying this longed for feeling. He slowly starts to thrust back and forth, biting his lower lip. “Oh.” You moaned out in pleasure and a slight stinging pain from the stretching.

He kisses your lips. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” He comforts you through the slight pain. “Are you gonna take what I give you?” He asked causing you to flutter your eyes open at him.

“Anything you give me, I’ll take it.” You nodded at him. As soon as you gave him the permission, he puts his hands behind your knees, moving them up to the sides of your head. He starts pounding in you causing him to groan out in delight as he closes his eyes, throwing his head back.

The position made you feel his rough thrusts deeper causing you to scream. The bed frame started hitting again the wall from how hard he was going. “You like that baby?” He asked you looking back down at you.

“Ye-Yes-s!” You managed to choke out. Your tits bounced from his actions as you tried finding something to grip onto, feeling overwhelmed. You then let out a gasp when you felt him dropping your legs, turning you to lay on your stomach.

He drags your hips up, quickly inserting himself back in as his hand forces to arch your back. He smacks your ass which makes you moan out, loving the stinging. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” He says. You adjusted yourself on your arm as you reached out and rubbed circles on your clit. The rubbing makes you clench on him, “Fuck,” he moans out, bed creaking underneath you both. “Fucking love when you do that.”

He then grabs a fist of your hair, pulling your head back. You whimpered at the pulling as he smacks your ass again. You whined as you bit your lower lip, loving how his balls smack against your clit. “You’re mine.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, hand sliding to your neck, squeezing it. “All mine.”

“All yours, San.” You say with the little air you have in your body. You then leaned forward when he lets go of you, gasping for air. But you have no time to compose yourself as he turns you around one last time, laying you on your back.

“Cum with me.” He tells you, rapidly thrusting into you. Your hands reached to his back, scratching it deeply as he rubs your clit. His balls hitting your ass as he tries chasing his high, letting out a low groan.

All the sounds from skin slapping to the bed frame legit about to break added to the electrifying atmosphere. He reaches up and holds your jaw in place, “I'm gonna cum.” You tell him. “Me too, baby. Cum with me.” He tells you as he leans down and kisses you.

A few more strokes and you both are moaning into each other’s mouths as you both came at the same time. He paints your walls white as his hips movements slowly starts to subside, riding out both of your highs. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavy. Hot, sweaty sticky bodies in each other’s embrace. Your hand reaches up and caresses his sweaty hair. “I love you.” He tells you as you feel the vibration in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” You tell him as you stare off to the ceiling, slowly closing your eyes as you felt the exhaustion take over, caressing movements subsiding in his hair.

—

You wake up with the sun shining in your eyes. You scrunched up your face as you turned away from the light, reaching out to feel San. You shot your eyes open when you didn’t feel him there. No, not again. You sit up straight, looking at the empty spot. “San?” You called out, looking out the door way— nothing answers you back.

You remove the covers off you hastily, ignoring the overall soreness in your body as you walked to your drawer grabbing underwear and oversize shirt. You quickly put them on as you walked out the room, “San- Oh.” You called out once more as you walked down the hallway but stopped abruptly in your steps.

All your overwhelming emotions flushed away when you saw San cooking in the kitchen. “Ah!” He screamed out in pain when a small drop of oil jumped onto his skin. You covered your mouth when you saw how he was standing— body arm length away, hips pushed out, completely away from the pan as his arms are extended out. One hand holds a fork and the other holding the handle of the pot.

Through the sizzling, San heard your chuckle, causing him to snap his head towards you. “The stupid oil burned me again!” He said with a pout.

You sighed out a chuckle as you shook your head. “Let me do it, you big baby.” You said smiling as you walked to him. You take the fork from his hand and flipped some bacon pieces. He crossed his arms, “I’m not a big baby.” He said in a whining tone.

You snorted. “Sure.” You say, eyeing the bacon as you smiled. “You have the temperature too hig-“ You froze in your words when you saw a ring on your ringer finger with a huge diamond on it. How did you miss this big ass rock?

You then felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, lips kissing on your neck. You let out a shocked scoff as you felt tears dwelling in. “I told you I was going to get you a ring with a big gem on it.” He smiles into the kisses on your neck.

You turned to him with tears falling down your cheeks. He smiles at your reaction, cupping your face as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears. “I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you so much more.” He tells you. “I promise I will make up for all my mistakes. You’re my life, Y/N. I will prove it to you.” He knows it’s going to take a long time before you fully trust him again, but this a first step for that.

After a moment of silence he grab your chin and places a few more kisses on your lips. “So,” he whispers which you hummed in response, “why don’t we start on those six kids, mm?”

You rolled your eyes, swiping his hand off your chin turning to focus on the bacon. “We are not having six kids, San!” You tell him, giving him a glare over your shoulder. You looked at the bacon and smirked, “Maybe we will have them when you stop being scared over cooking oil.” You teased him.

He let out an offended gasp. “Excuse me?!” He put a hand over his chest. He pursed his lips as he hip bumps you out the way and sassily takes the fork out of your hand. “Watch. I’m not scared of some stupid oil.” His voice trembling through the fake confidence.

He flinched slightly when he sees the oiling jumping all over the place causing you to burst out in laughter. You placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his back. “Sure baby.” You say crossing your arms as you leaned back on the counter.

He then shouts once more , dropping the fork on the counter when the oil jumped on his skin. “Forget it!” He said walking away with attitude which made you stifle a laugh.

He stops in his steps and turns around, a smirk growing on his face. He walks to you, “What are you doing?” You asked him as you stood up, standing with your guard up. He bends down and throws you over his shoulder as he heads to the bedroom. “We can start with one.” He said as you yelled at him to put you down as he smacked your ass. You don’t see it but you two are smiling at each other’s actions.

THE END